What a Texas NICU Taught Me About Helping Malnourished Babies in Tanzania
A few weeks ago, I spent several hours in my little office tucked between two NICUs. I was there to catch up on paperwork, not screen newborns.
For four hours, I listened to the sounds that fill a NICU: monitors beeping, alarms sounding,
nurses moving quickly from one baby to the next, and the occasional cry from behind the nursery doors. But one baby cried differently.
His cry was loud and desperate. It seemed to go on forever. Every so often, it would stop, and I would think someone had finally gotten to him. Then, a few minutes later, it would begin again.
More than once, I stopped what I was doing and looked toward the door. My heart hurt for him. My anxiety was rising. Every instinct in me wanted to walk in, pick him up, and make sure he knew he was not alone. Finally, I asked a nurse about him.
She quietly said, “We don’t know who his mother will be.”
I have thought about that little baby so many times since. It was hard to hear him cry, but I also knew something he did not: someone was watching over him. The nurses heard him. They were caring for so many fragile babies at once, but they knew he needed them. They fed him, checked on him, and comforted him as soon as they could.
Eventually, I found myself taking a deep breath and thinking, He’s okay. Someone is coming.
Why My Mind Went to Mothers in Tanzania
As I sat there in that safe, busy hospital, my mind traveled to Tanzania—to the mothers and caregivers Kulea Villages serves through Maisha Matters, our baby nutrition and family support program.
I wondered if the babies in Tanzania cried like that little baby in the NICU, desperate for something they needed, or if some had become too weak to cry much at all. I do not know how a baby responds when their needs go unmet again and again. Do they cry harder, desperate to be heard? Or do they eventually grow too weak to cry at all?
That insistent cry from the NICU made me anxious as I worked. I thought about the caregivers we serve in Tanzania who know their baby needs help but may not know where to turn for the support their child needs. I wondered if they carry that same anxiety day after day.
I thought about what it must feel like to hold your hungry baby and know something is not right, even while doing everything you know to do. A mother may not know why she is unable to produce enough milk; she only knows her baby is hungry. With no formula available and little food for herself, she may turn to tea or thin porridge, hoping it will ease her baby’s hunger for a little while. But I do know this: a mother’s love does not disappear just because she does not have the resources her baby needs.
She loves her child. She wants to feed her child. She would do anything she could. And still, there are moments when love cannot make a bottle full. That is what stayed with me as I sat in my office between those two NICUs. Here, I knew help was nearby. For many families in Tanzania, that kind of certainty is much harder to find.
Why Kulea Villages Serves Families in East Africa
People sometimes ask why Kulea Villages serves families in Tanzania and Kenya when there are babies and families in need here in the United States. It is a fair question.
The answer is not that children in one place matter more than children somewhere else. Every child is precious. Every hungry baby deserves to be fed. Every parent deserves to have hope.
Tanzania and Kenya are simply where God called Kulea Villages to serve. We cannot meet every need in the world, and that can feel overwhelming. But we can be faithful to the children and families placed in front of us.
Through Maisha Matters, Kulea Villages meets caregivers who are doing everything they can. Grandmothers, aunts, fathers, and mothers carry the weight of caring for that child with so much love and sacrifice. When formula is out of reach, though, love is not enough to meet a baby’s nutritional needs.
How Kulea Villages Helps Malnourished Babies
When a baby is referred to Kulea Villages, the caregiver comes to our office and meets with
one of our social workers. The baby is weighed. The caregiver receives formula and learns how to prepare and store it safely. Then our team goes to the family’s home.
Sometimes a baby’s needs extend beyond formula. A family may be living without a mattress, struggling to find enough food, or lacking a mosquito net. When medical care or other support is needed, our team helps connect the family with the right resources and offers encouragement every step of the way. We want caregivers to know they do not have to carry this burden alone.
Sitting in my office, I pictured caregivers walking through our doors with a baby in their arms. I could feel the anxiety they may have carried with them, much like what I felt as I listened to that baby cry in the NICU. And I could almost feel the relief they felt as they left knowing they had something to feed their child and that someone was there to help.
One can of formula may seem small to some people. But for the families Kulea Villages serves, it can cost a week’s salary, and a baby needs two cans each week. For a caregiver wondering how they will make it through the next day, receiving that formula can feel like an answered prayer.
When Someone Chooses to Care
Whenever I think about the formula shelves in our storeroom, I think about the people who make those shelves possible.
Most will never meet the babies who drink that formula. They may never know the name of the mother who finally sleeps a little easier that night. They may never see the child grow stronger, gain weight, begin to smile, sit up, walk, or go to school. But their generosity becomes part of that child’s story.
I have watched those shelves get low. I have also watched God provide again and again through people who simply chose to care about a family they would likely never meet. That kind of generosity humbles me.
My prayer is that our shelves will remain full throughout the year, so when the next caregiver walks through our doors, we are ready. Ready to enroll another baby, provide the formula they need, and begin walking alongside their family.
That day in the NICU, I kept reminding myself, Someone is coming.
My prayer is that every family who walks through the doors of Kulea Villages will know, Someone is there.
Continue the Story
Help Kulea Villages make sure we are ready for the next baby in need. Learn about our Maisha Matters baby program or make a one-time gift to help keep our formula shelves full.
About Amy
Amy Carrier serves as Executive Secretary and Sponsorship Coordinator for Kulea Villages. She lives in Texas, where she also works as a newborn hearing screener. Amy is the mother of two sons and enjoys horses, animals, babies, and sharing stories of God's work through Kulea Villages.
Kulea Villages is a U.S.-registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization in partnership with Kulea Villages entities in Tanzania and Kenya. Rather than dramatic rescues, their child protection model focuses on stabilizing families through a process that typically lasts 1-2 years, prioritizing education, nutrition, and family income generation through a business. Join our email list for new blog alerts. We appreciate your support.
Wonderful articles, Amy! How could anyone say no to that! 💕