Ligda was one of my regulars in the Ravine. She was always skinny and weak, and she had a respiratory infection that I could not get rid of with any antibiotics. I kept telling the parents to carry her the 1/2 mile up the road to Grace Hospital where she could get a free TB test, x-ray and treatment. They didn't take her.
Ligda was in Sherrie's feeding program, receiving 2 meals a day and vitamins. That extra nutrition helped her to keep fighting. In January though, her family took her out to the countryside for a few weeks and when they came back in February, Ligda was weaker and thinner than I'd ever seen her. I treated her for the diarrhea she had and Sherrie's workers started taking her specially enhanced peanut butter balls in addition to the daily meals. It was too late. When I arrived at Sherrie's on Monday, my community health worker, Wesnal, told me that Ligda had died on Sunday night.
I had the opportunity to stop at her house and speak with her parents that Monday. 50 feet down the road, we passed the carpenter's house. Normally, his yard is full of chairs, tables, and bed frames. But that day, the centerpiece was a tiny wooden coffin.