Beyond the Pain

“I believed they would be healed. I told my children, ‘You will receive your surgery. Just pray and wait.’” — Haja

Meet: Fenitra, Rolland and Rody

In Anjiro, a rural village in western Madagascar, families are often known by what they contribute to the community. Some are farmers. Others are skilled craftsmen. Many are remembered for their generosity toward neighbors.

But for years, Haja’s family was known for something else entirely.

“When I heard people say, ‘Those are Haja’s children, the ones with bowed legs,’ it hurt me,” he said. “It hurt me as a father.”

Haja himself had developed bowed legs as a child but was never able to receive treatment. Instead, he navigated his world with struggle, one that unfortunately was passed down to his children. The label cut deeply and followed his family wherever they went, reducing generations to a condition.

More than the emotional toll their condition took, Haja’s children struggled with the physical limitations caused by their twisted legs.

Help other children today

For 15-year-old Fenitra, 8-year-old Rolland, and 6-year-old Rody, navigating the rough terrain of their village was a daily struggle. Their curved legs made everyday movement slow and painful.

Fenitra and Rolland would wake up before dawn and set out for school each morning, pursuing an education they refused to sacrifice. They had to navigate rocky paths and sharp inclines for over two hours each way, often struggling to keep their balance and sometimes falling along the way.

mercy-ships-patient-stories-fenitra-rody-rolland-1

“At school, the kids mock us and call us ‘bow leg,’” they said. “We don’t answer them. We just keep going.”

Their mother, Berthine, continuously worried for her children. She wondered if her children would finish school, find work, or ever escape the sting of teasing that threatened to follow them into adulthood.

There was also concern about what people’s superstitions might do to their futures. In their community, bowed legs were sometimes explained as a curse or a punishment.

“It hurt to hear those things,” Berthine said. “It made everything heavier.”

When Mercy Ships arrived in Madagascar in 2024, the family had hope the children might finally find healing. Delays kept them from coming aboard initially, but Haja refused to give up hope.

“I believed they would be healed,” Haja said. “I told my children, ‘You will receive your surgery. Just pray and wait.’”

The following year, in 2025, that prayer was answered.

Fenitra, Rolland, and Rody came aboard the Africa Mercy with their mother, ready for surgery to change their lives. Knowing she could not manage alone, Berthine was joined by Fanja, the children’s older sister, and Oliva, their cousin, who stepped in to help during the long days of surgery and recovery.

“They are very caring and loving of one another,” said Maddy McArthur, a volunteer physical therapist. “You see them laughing, joking, and encouraging each other. They went through everything together.”

One by one, the children underwent complex orthopedic surgeries aboard the hospital ship. After a bit of recovery, the three began the difficult process of physical therapy. Their legs were placed in casts, and they were given daily exercises to help them learn to walk again. Progress came in small steps.

mercy-ships-patient-stories-fenitra-rody-rolland-2

“It was like a child learning to walk,” Fanja recalled of Fenitra’s first steps. “She was crying because it hurt. But the nurses and doctors encouraged her.”

Day by day, pain gave way to possibility. And after months of hard work, the three children were ready to return home, standing tall at last.

“It was just so special seeing them walk down the gangway all together,” Maddy remembered. “Seeing them leave the hospital as a family was beautiful.”

When the family returned to their village, they were met with awe and celebration.

“People were amazed,” Fanja said. “They were happy to see the children arrive with straight legs.”

Haja remembers that day clearly. “We were all together, and we danced with joy,” he said. “We celebrated until dawn.”

mercy-ships-patient-stories-fenitra-rody-rolland-3

At last, the name that once followed his family began to loosen its grip on them.

“Before, I was hurt by what people said,” Haja said. “But when my children came back healed, I knew that name would disappear.”

Their family is still known in the village… but the story people tell has changed!