“We go to those who do not have access to care”: aboard a medical truck, this woman from Nice goes to the bedside of forgotten patients in Mayotte

The day we finally manage to contact her, Martine Eutrope has just got the electricity back. He was told the water would return on December 25 – “My Christmas present!” At 75 years old, this Azurean who has lived in Mayotte for twelve years shows astonishing energy and humor. Two valuable assets to face the post-Chido era.

Born in Grasse, Dr Martine Eutrope practiced for a long time in Nice. She was to join her three children and six grandchildren there at Christmas. But this general practitioner, with pediatric qualifications, remained helping a population in extreme suffering. “Doctor Granny”, or “Doctor Coco” for the Mahorais, crisscrosses the villages with a mini medical truck and its unfailing commitment.

First of all, how are you?

I'm doing well. My house is damaged, but less than my neighbors'. I was flooded, but was able to get repairs done quickly, so I'm staying in my house. being a sailor, I experienced it as my personal Vendée Globe! I lived on my boat, I stayed the course. I also made a Christmas tree from a broken tree in the garden. It's important to keep the humor.

What is the situation on the island?

It's so difficult… It's a disaster. I've been here for twelve years, I'm in love with this island. And I don't recognize anything anymore. It's chaos.

Can you describe to us what you see?

There are piles of garbage everywhere. Children eating out of trash cans. Sheet metal, broken trees everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. I haven't seen an untouched place! Going north, I saw only fields of ruins. I couldn't even drive because I was so upset.

In what state of mind do you find the Mahorais?

They have the ability to cope with the worst. But entire families have nothing at all. My housekeeper's house was completely razed. I saw a woman who was combing her baby's hair, sitting on the ground in the street, looking completely blank, somewhere else… The children are either super excited or like statues. My secretary gave birth three days before the cyclone. Her baby gained 5 grams; he should have taken 300. Everything is like this.

Do you see humanitarian aid arriving?

I didn't see anything with my own eyes. Or you have to wait in very long lines for distributions. That’s one pack of water per person. I saw a young man with two packs: he offered me one for 20 euros. The black market begins. There is a curfew to prevent looting. I live in a relatively residential area in Mamoudzou, and everything is looted.

Are you holding on despite everything?

I put my morale on hold. If we think, we cry. And if I cry, I'm no longer holding the bar. There is such a shock!

Have you considered returning to mainland France?

I am of retirement age, but I have never taken it. My children and grandchildren know that I will stay as long as I am needed. I had to come home and spend Christmas with them. I called my agency to tell them: “As soon as there are commercial flights, give my ticket to others.”

You had equipped the island with its telemedicine network. Is it inoperative at the moment?

I set up all the assisted and augmented telemedicine. I equipped my nurses with connected backpacks, to be able to make remote home visits. At the moment we have no communication. But we did e-communications in a medical bus.

Are you going to meet people?

With Nathalie de Turckheim [cousine de l’actrice Charlotte de Turckheim]we have an association which provides care to the inhabitants of Mamoudzou. We still had money. I said to myself: “We have to do something, roll up our sleeves.” With this truck, we are going to those who do not have access to care. It is very important to treat people without distinction.

Who are your patients?

Mainly injured people. I take care of all those left behind. All this fringe that doesn't go to the hospital. Asthmatics, diabetics… These chronically ill people have lost everything. Their medicine is gone! So I give prescriptions again, I take blood pressure again… We only talk about the hospital; I would like us to show this work of the liberals, who are passionate.

With this truck, you can travel through all neighborhoods?

There, I go to consult a pharmacy. We have no more fuel, we can no longer move forward. But there are queues of five to seven hours to buy thirty liters of gasoline…

Do you fear epidemics?

For the moment, we don't have any rats on the garbage bags. Maybe they disappeared in the cyclone… But it will happen quickly. I started to experience diarrhea and vomiting. And also weird skin rashes on babies washed with rainwater. I am an optimist by nature, but I wonder how things will evolve.

What message would you like to send to us metropolitans?

Chido, the name of the cyclone, means “mirror” in Mahorese. It's a lesson: you have to look in the mirror to find the truth. Remember that there are other people who are suffering. Just think of them.