The Radio Workshop:
Giving Young People a Voice

By Gabriel Urgoiti

It always amazes me to hear children’s insight and understanding of issues that affect them. The problem is that adults seldom listen to what children have to say – and more often than not, they make assumptions about what the children need and what they want.

Sick children are no different. They have the right to know as much as possible about matters that affect them, to understand and to be involved with their illness and the health care provided to them. They need information about the hospital environment and what is expected; their health condition; diagnostic procedures and treatment options; possible outcomes of these treatments; degree of likely pain and discomfort, and above all to be able to ask questions and be reassured of the support and care they will receive from their parents, caregivers and health workers.

It is for this reason that Children’s Radio at the Red Cross Children’s Hospital (RXH) is being established.  Imagine a radio mainly run by the children in the hospital providing them with the opportunity to connect with other children by sharing opinions, asking questions, telling stories, sharing entertainment and creating vibrant networks. These are just some of the opportunities to be gained.

Qaqamba and the author in the hospital classroom.

You already know the children who took part in the inaugural hospital workshop – Qaqamba (9) Mujahid (7) Kauther (8), Iyad (9) and Nonkhanyiso (15). All are veterans of RXH. They have experienced a lot in their young lives, from accidents to chronic illnesses. Each of them has been admitted to the hospital many times and continues to return for treatment and check-ups.

Our workshop took place each morning from 10:00 to 12:30 in the small hospital primary school on E Floor. Here we worked every day. However we had to be very flexible to accommodate the different needs of each child such as medical follow-ups, changing oxygen tubes, going for chemotherapy, taking medicines, getting injections and changing tracheotomy tubes.

Working on self portraits.

The first five days included a variety of activities such as drawing and painting, listening and talking, games and story telling. Each child developed a “life book” where they drew or painted self-portraits, as well as depicting important people in their life, the things they like and dislike doing, and ‘a day in my life’ in hospital. They also mapped the hospital by walking around and describing the areas of the hospital they knew well.

These processes helped to develop the necessary trust, team spirit and life skills to help the children to begin sharing their stories. Early during the workshop we introduced the audio equipment so that the children could familiarize themselves with the technical aspects of recording sound.

During the last five days the children focused on developing their stories that later become their radio programmes. They looked at their life books to remind themselves of their stories and decided what they wanted to tell and whom they wanted to interview.

Fun and games: Mujahid, Qaqamba & Kauther.

As a team we had a rewarding time with lots of fun. We managed to learn a lot and also to open ourselves up and to share experiences. We all became good friends and I believe that the learning and the laughing opportunities also contributed to the healing process.

Feedback Session: Mujahid (foreground) and Qaqamba listen back to their finished programmes.

On Saturday January 24, we invited the children, their parents and caregivers to listen to the radio programmes and to view all the photos that were taken during the workshop. It was a very special moment.  Looking at the faces and body language of the children and their parents while they listened to the programmes was deeply rewarding. A good few tears were shed by those in the room.

In reflecting on the workshop and the objectives we set ourselves, we are confident that RXH radio can make a big impact on healthcare workers, hospital managements, parents and of course children themselves. Listen for yourself to the voices of our five ‘reporters’ and see what you think.

By Gabriel Urgoiti

I have walked into the Red Cross Children’s Hospital thousands of times since I first started working here in 1982, but on January 5, 2009 it was different.

This time, instead of a stethoscope I had a microphone, and together with Sue and Mike, my job was to facilitate a 10-day radio workshop with five remarkable children. They would become the first radio reporters for the Red Cross Hospital Children’s Radio Station that will hopefully be up and running in 2009.

Red Cross War Memorial Children's Hospital

I know the Red Cross Children’s Hospital very well. I even lived there for four months at the doctor’s bungalows when I first arrived in Cape Town  27 years ago. (I am from Argentina.) During the 1980s I worked at Red Cross Hospital as a medical doctor in the outpatients unit, as well as some of the hospital wards. Since then I have been working on health communication, participatory media and children’s rights, especially the right of children to participate in issues that are important to them. This we do through enabling children to make their views and opinions known through the use of radio, video and art.

I have kept in touch with the hospital over the years – frequently attending the academic meetings on Wednesday mornings.  Each time I enter the hospital I have this warm feeling of being at home.  It evokes for me so many memories, some very happy and of course some very sad because you want all the children to get better. It is a remarkable place and it is a privilege to be associated with such an excellent institution that provides superb care to many children from all over the African continent, and sometimes from other continents as well.

However, this time I saw and experienced the hospital in a completely different way.  Each of the children took us through a tour of the places they know well. With the field recorders hanging from their shoulders and the microphone in their hands they walked through the familiar places, talking to people and telling us about their own experiences about being sick.  The corridors, lifts, wards and ICU took a different dimension when seeing them through the children eyes and listening to their stories. It was a privilege and a humbling experience.

Mujahid Wiener, age 7

Mujahid Wiener came down with a serious case of the nerves on the day of the big interview.  He had given a lot of thought to the questions he would ask and wrote them down on a piece of paper.  He untangled the cables that connected the recorder to the microphone and headphones, and proceeded to meet his subject—his mother Kamilla.

Microphone in hand, he sat in silence opposite his mom, looking down at the floor. His mom instructed him not to be nervous. “Come now, man.  I’m your mother.  This is someone you speak to everyday,” she said.

Microphones are powerful things.  They have the ability to turn everyday conversations into considered and reflective moments.  They dig deep into the furthest reaches of your memories and experiences, bringing out the finest details.  The colours, smells, and sounds.  The moments you thought were long since forgotten.  Microphones get you speaking about things in new and exciting ways, and sharing moments and thoughts that were previously reserved for you alone.

For Mujahid and his mother, the microphone created a space for talking about something that is always there but never discussed.  It got them to both remember and reflect on the day last year when Mujahid was severely burned.  It was also the day he was first admitted into the ICU, when his relationship with Red Cross Children’s Hospital began.

Mujahid finally gathered the courage to ask his mother a question.  He asked her to recall what happened on the day of the accident.  She responded with a blow-by-blow of the chain of events.  Mujahid listened carefully at certain points, as if hearing these details for the first time.  Kamilla remarked earlier in the week that Mujahid struggled to speak about the accident, even though the social worker had encouraged them to speak about it openly.  She tried to bring about the conversation numerous times, but it never got very far.  He listened to what she had to say, but never spoke about it himself.

After a long pause Mujahid turned to his mother, looking her in the eyes. “Mommy, what were you thinking that day?”  And then the floodgates opened.  Kamilla clearly remembers every second of that day, and reconstructed her thoughts for her young son in the shape of a five-minute monologue.  Her response contained moments of pain, humour, and, joy.  It brought about many answers, many more questions, and what seemed like the start of a conversation.

Listen to Mujahid’s story: