by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer, MMM                            USA              05.09.2026     

Am I going to get leprosy?  Will I die like Damien the Leper?  These thoughts passed through my mind as I entered through the gate of ALERT Leprosy training program in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia in September 1989.  I had asked to do a course in Leprosy before going to Nigeria. I would be in charge of Leprosy in our hospital in Ogoja and I felt I did not know enough about it. The pretesting exam showed that was true. I received a score of 22 out of 100, but with God’s help and hard work I received an A in the final exam. I loved learning about this very mysterious disease which was not caused by contact but by inhaling the germs spread by coughing and sneezing. It was similar to tuberculosis but much less infectious. Most people who were exposed could contain it with their immunity. Others could not. The mystery remains. It was an intense nine-week course.

I looked forward to home leave with my mother and family from Dec to March 1st, 1990, the day chosen to go to Nigeria. I had entered that day 34 years ago and this was a new beginning. Little did I know that it would be a frigid winter in Connecticut -10 F – and that I would soon face more than 100-degree change in the weather.

Upon landing in Lagos, I thought I was in an oven. The sequence from Pentecost came to mind. “Thou in toil are comfort sweet, refreshment in the noon day heat, solace in the midst of woe.” Every time I said that verse a cool breeze would come out of nowhere and refreshed me. Sr. Cecily Bourdillon met me at the plane. I was in trouble because I had only a one-way ticket. My ticket was bought in Tanzania to travel to Ethiopia, Ireland, New York, and Nigeria. Sr. Cecily’s charming smile saved the day, and I was allowed to enter. It was around midnight and we got lost going to Mafoluku. At that time, we stayed in the present-day Dominican Priests’ house until a new house was built for us. We ran the clinic for the Dominican Fathers.

I remember the kindness of Srs. Dervilla O’Donnell and Rita Higgins who were spending a few days there from Irele. One gave me stamps to write home and the other turned on the air conditioner in the bedroom. Sr. Giovanni McCormack had traveled from Ogoja to take me there. She had taken time out from the busy physical therapy department in Ogoja. I appreciated all the newness and adventure but still had the feeling of being in an oven for the next 2 weeks. My previous experience of living in Africa had found me at elevations of four thousand feet. Being at sea level was another story -which I shall continue.