On our second day in Burkina, we visited a music club, called Les Bamboos, in Bobo. Michael was very excited about seeing Farafina live that evening and he was trying to enthuse the Swedish couple, Karin and Patrick, about this group. It was also New Year’s Eve. I decided to go to the toilet while he was engrossed in this discussion.
One of the club workers showed me where it was – and the first thing that surprised me was that there was a long stick being waved above the toilet which did not have a roof. After a few minutes I realised why because a monkey showed up and the stick kept it away from the toilet. The monkey was in attack mode with mouth wide open. I hurried up and as I was washing my hands, the monkey jumped on my head and I felt what could have been a bite or a scratch. I screamed my head off a rushed out. The stick obviously did not work and maybe I was too good a target to miss. I am not sure when the monkey disappeared but the man waving the stick must have been able to get rid of him.
The amount of blood that was pouring out of my head was unbelievable, it was everywhere. I started shouting for Michael who could not hear me. Patrick noticed me bent over and shouting for Michael who rushed over. He panicked when he saw all the blood. He called Karin and Patrick over who were most helpful as Patrick in a soldier and had a first aid kit on him. They both helped Michael clean the wound and bandage it.
We ended up in the local hospital and that was quite a shock because the hygiene was poor and people were lying on the floor to be treated. The doctor on duty found a wheelchair for me to sit on while Michael had to stand. He was able to supervise that clean equipment was used. I had 5 stitches under local anaesthetic and more blood when he injected the anaesthetic. I now had a bold patch around the wound. He did not bother to clean the blood off the rest of my head! What was shocking was that he asked for a present after we had paid about £20.00 officially and after some argument Michael paid him £5.00.
I wanted to have the rest of my hair cut straight away while the anaesthetic was working. Two hairdressers said no and we were driven to a hairdresser who cut “Le Blanche” hair. He did not even think twice about cutting hair that had so much blood on it – and of course the whole incident became the topic of conversation. One woman said you are lucky, it could have been your face. That did not bear thinking about!! We bought antibiotics and hoped for the best.
That evening we visited “Les Bamboos” to talk to the French owner Bernard. One of the young men who sells trinkets outside the club showed more sympathy than Bernard. We visited the next day and found out from the trinket seller that another customer had been attacked half an hour before me and Bernard was with her in a private clinic when I was attacked. Bernard had kept this information from us and failed to tie up his monkey after the first attack.
We travelled to Bamako two days after the attack with a view to have the wound seen again. We did finally get to a private clinic and the doctor on call took one stitch out without local anaesthetic as the wound was infected. More screaming from me!! He changed my antibiotics and gave me something stronger. The next day another young doctor took two stitches out and asked me to return to see his boss Mr Traore, the trauma specialist. Mr Traore said he would need to clean the wound and remove the rest of the stitches and luckily this time it was going to be under local anaesthetic and Michael was able to watch him do the procedure. He changed my antibiotics yet again!! Gave me stronger ones which he said would do the trick and get rid of any residual infection.
The disappointing news from Mr Traore was that I needed to be seen by him everyday and that he did not recommend my travelling to the Desert Festival. We were going to start travelling there the next day. Michael wanted to go with his advice and return home to England and my attitude (maybe a foolish one) was to find a way for us to go. The day of the journey to Timbuktu, my question to Mr Traore was how is he going to make it possible for me to travel. I had waited until he had said the wound was much better and that there was very little infection. He agreed to show Michael how to clean the wound and Michael was very brave to take on the task – I would have it any differently! So we were finally on our way to Timbuktu. Of course with new headgear! I did not know that the rasta hat I had bought in Thailand would come in so handy.
At the Desert Festival, a Polish doctor, Liina and a nurse, Jaana, cleaned the wound in a car to keep the sand away! They also supervised a local doctor, Dr. Sangare, in Timbuktu clean it. Dr. Sangare came to see me at the hotel wearing a trench coat and my first question was I don’t want any treatment until I have had a chance to tell you what my problem is and you tell me what you will do. Out came his container of his tools from his pocket – that worried me even more – how hygienic is this doing to be? Language was a problem because he did not speak English but as every other time I decided to put my faith in him and it turned out to be okay.
Since then Michael cleaned the wound until we returned to Ghana and saw a VSO doctor in Bolgatanga. He said that within a week the wound would be okay and that head wounds usually heal in a couple of weeks – well mine was taking longer.- the attack happened 4 weeks ago!
I have now taken to wearing a turban and people tell me the new look suits me – so maybe this look is here to stay for some time. I still have a bald patch as the wound has not closed over! Sorry about going on about this but had to get it off my chest to be able to move on and tell you about the more positive stories about our trip.
