In Kenema, a city in eastern Sierra Leone, the hospital noticeboards are swamped with tributes to staff who have died caring for Ebola patients. Almost 40 doctors and nurses have been struck down since the outbreak began, in May. One nurse dies on the morning of my recent visit, a trip taken with the aid agency Goal.
On a patch of waste ground at the back of the hospital three workers tile a tomb that holds the body of Dr Sheik Hummar Khan. Before he died from Ebola, in late July, Khan was one of the leading physicians battling the virus in Sierra Leone.
A short distance away three families stand silently outside their homes. The hillside on which they live has been placed under quarantine. A person died from Ebola here a few weeks ago, and there have been six more cases in the same location since then. They accept that they will have to remain on this patch of ground for 21 days.
The Ben Hirsch childcare facility in central Kenema now works with children who have been orphaned by the virus, as well as helping Ebola survivors such as Jemilla Jawara readapt to society by providing counselling and survival kits.
The virus confirmed its presence in Jawara’s home on June 27th, when it claimed the lives of her four-month-old twins, a boy and a girl. Less than 24 hours later her mother, Zainab, died too.
The virus continued to scythe through her family, taking her 15-year-old foster child, Jenneh Karimu; her three year-old niece Fatmata Quee; her elder sister’s six-year-old daughter, Kulanatu Momoh; her brother’s nine-year-old daughter, Nancy Momoh; her sister-in-law Massa Moijoi; and her husband’s friend’s daughter Battu Konneh, who happened to be staying in her home at the time.
On the Saturday of her mother’s death Jemilla Jawara went to a treatment unit where she spent 20 days battling the virus, before being discharged on July 18th, three weeks to the day since her babies had died.
Now, apart from the grief of losing so many loved ones in such a short space of time, she has been stigmatised by her own community. Before Ebola she had been a street trader, selling fried chicken and other foods. Now people will not buy her produce. Her husband, a mechanic, is also suffering, partly because people refuse to come to his garage.
She has lost her home and many of her possessions. Her family is surviving on handouts from aid agencies.
Still, she thanks God for the loved ones whom Ebola has left behind. These include her daughters, 17-year-old Aminata and 14-year-old Abibatu, and two-year-old Jammie, her sister-in-law’s daughter, all of whom sit silently beside her as we talk.
David Williams is a media officer with Goal