Leah, the Lonely Midwife of Tambach

By Hillary Kosgey Arap Masut, from An Anthology of Memoirs

The image you see is of the former maternity wing of the former Native Council Hospital in Tambach. It was likely constructed in the late 1930s. This is the place where my grandfather, Michael Bundotich, was first employed as a colonial Grade Three dresser in 1942. I still have his employment records. In those days hospitals like this were known as Native Council Hospitals because they specifically served the African population.

Their key functions were maternity services, immunization programs for conditions such as tuberculosis and smallpox, and treatment of malaria, which was one of the biggest burdens of the time. Tetanus from infected wounds was also common among the local people. This is why dressers like my grandfather were considered very important. Dressers were graded into three categories. Grade Three dressers earned between 25 and 30 shillings per month. Grade Two dressers earned between 35 and 45. Grade One dressers earned between 50 and 55. There was an annual increment of about 5 shillings until one reached the maximum. That closes the chapter on dressers for now.

Back to the story and to the image of the hospital. There was once a midwife who worked here called Leah P Ishmael. She was not a local woman. From my findings, she came from Taita. There were probably only two or three midwives in the facility. One was said to be Maria Thuranira and possibly one European sister as well. Sister Ishmael was employed and posted to Tambach in March 1954. After one year of service she began to raise complaints to the African District Council, which served as the local government of that time.

Her concerns were that she was a lonely young woman with no other colleague from her community. She had arrears that had not been paid to her by the Lidbury authority. She also demanded her annual increment, which was due after completing one year of service from March 1954, yet March 1955 had already passed with no adjustment.

Perhaps Leah was homesick. Perhaps she longed for a more urban working environment such as the Native Hospital in Eldoret, about 28 miles away. The Lidbury Commission, named after Sir David Lidbury, was similar to the present day Public Service Commission. Its mandate was to review the structure, pay scales, and working conditions of civil servants across the British territories of East Africa, including Kenya, Uganda, Tanganyika, Zanzibar, and services under the East Africa High Commission.

On 21 June 1955, Leah wrote a resignation letter. She first drafted it by hand, but someone later advised her to type it and make it formal. In her Swahili letter she demanded that she expected replies within nine days. Her letter was addressed to the District Commissioner. The District Commissioner received it and forwarded it to the Medical Officer of Health. In those days the Medical Officer served both Baringo and Elgeyo Marakwet districts.

District Commissioner Peter Tait wrote back confirming that she indeed had the right to resign. In those days resigning did not necessarily mean leaving the service entirely. It often meant requesting a transfer. The District Commissioner also wrote to the African District Council explaining that working among the Elgeyo people was one of the hardest assignments. He described the Elgeyo as difficult people to live with and work with. He wrote that they were jealous and that they created unnecessary quarrels with hospital staff. I am not sure how true that was. What I know is that the Elgeyo have long been known as Mapunjan people, a nickname meaning that they are not quick to spend money, always insisting that they do not have loose coins to give out.

I have Leah’s letter of resignation and the District Commissioner’s supporting letter. The correspondence was copied to Fredah Rose, the officer in charge of the Native Civil Hospital in Eldoret. That is how I believe Leah eventually moved to Eldoret to continue her midwifery work. I hope she received her increment and her promotion, and that she finally worked among people with whom she was more comfortable.

I am certain my grandfather knew her, but these are questions I can no longer ask, now that he has long passed on. May he rest in peace.

The image of this hospital carries many stories. Many children have been born here. Jonathan and Jeniffer, the first and second born children of Kenya’s second president Daniel T Moi, were likely born here. Elijah Sumbeiywo was born here. Lucas Chepkitony, former Member of Parliament for Keiyo North, was born here. My father too was born within these walls. Many of the Murgors were also born here during the era of Chief Chemweno, with J A Mackinnon serving as the doctor and P G Tai as the District Commissioner.

This is a story worth keeping. I estimate that Leah P Ishmael may have been around 30 years old when she was first employed in 1954, meaning that she was born around 1924. Who was she beyond the files? Where did she eventually go? Did she settle in Eldoret? Who were her children and who are her grandchildren? Her name was Leah P Ishmael, a Taita lady who found it difficult to remain in Tambach, the ancestral land of the Terik and the Saniak clans.

First shared in The Wonders of Sergoit Hills Facebook group. If you know of Leah P Ishmael or her descendants, Hillary would like to hear from you.