Hundreds of people in Sierra Leone worked on burial teams and in support operations to tackle the spread of Ebola . A year after the country was declared free of the virus, we see how the lives of some of the volunteers have changed

During the Ebola crisis in Sierra Leone, hundreds of people – teachers, builders, taxi drivers – volunteered to support not only those who contracted the virus but also their families.

The work of burial teams was crucial in stopping the spread of Ebola, which claimed almost 4,000 lives in Sierra Leone and more than 11,000 across west Africa.

About 200 people, recruited under a Cafod-led programme, worked on burial and support operations in the northern district of Kambia, often in remote areas.

They risked their lives and many were initially shunned by relatives and friends who feared they would pass on the infection. They were sometimes vilified or attacked by relatives of victims denied traditional burial rites by emergency restrictions.

A year after Sierra Leone was declared Ebola-free, we see how the lives of some of the volunteers have changed.

Click or tap on the images below (or drag the blue button) to see “then and now” pictures of the volunteers. (Then photographs: Louise Norton/Cafod. Now photographs: Cafod/Freetown.)

Alex Musa Koroma (third from right), 45, science teacher and former body carrier

Alex Musa Koroma saw it as his “duty” to join the burial team in November 2014, after schools across the country closed amid efforts to limit Ebola’s spread.

Married to Nana, 26, he has a daughter Rachel, 13, and son Michael, one. Koroma worked on the team for 18 months, before being stood down in April. He is now back in the classroom at Kambia Islamic secondary school.

“My pupils used to see me in their villages where deaths were occurring and some students lost relatives who were buried by myself,” he reflects.

Back in class and in front of the blackboard, Koroma says he is glad to be teaching again.

“As a science teacher it was very satisfying to see people come to understand why the restrictions were in place and it’s an ongoing process. Hand washing is routine in school.

“I very much enjoy being a teacher, helping children to grow and have a future.”

Quoting a local pop song, he adds: “I think about things differently now. What I learned about humanity is that we human beings must learn to be humble. Houses and vehicles are just vanity.”

John Nile Kamara (fourth from right), 37, poda-poda minibus driver and former burial team driver

John Nile Kamara, from Sierra Leone’s capital, Freetown, spent four months in Kambia working as a driver when Ebola broke out.

“We would usually work from 6am until 7.30pm, but might be on duty till midnight if there were long distances involved,” he says. “Sometimes we would pick up nine or 10 bodies.” When he returned home after six months of work, he found some of his family, friends and neighbours were frightened of him. “Sometimes they would say, ‘Don’t come near me – you’ll kill me,’” he says.

Over time John’s family came to accept him, but the members of the burial team became his “family” and he meets with them regularly.

“I’m really happy to see them, but I’m also glad to get back home, away from the bad memories of that dark time.”

With the money he earned, he has been able to buy two vehicles: a car and a poda-poda minibus. Now, as he collects paying passengers along a popular route in Freetown, he can earn more in a week than he used to in a month.

“I can afford good schooling for my children, and they’ll enjoy more opportunities in life,” he says. “I’m saving to buy land for a house, and I’m optimistic about the future.”

Momoh Katta, 27, trainee mason and former decontamination crew member

After spending 15 months on the team that decontaminated Ebola ambulances, Katta is back where he wants to be – on a building site. “Everyone was very frightened,” he recalls, “but this was something I had to do for my nation.”

At 6am each day, he would step into his protective suit to disinfect vehicles that had been out during the night, spraying them with a chlorine solution and then scrubbing with soap and water. The process was repeated after each deployment throughout the day. Every time they stepped out of a vehicle’s “red zone” – the area in the back where a suspected Ebola victim had been carried – they had to burn their protective suits.

Katta is now completing his training as a stonemason, supporting himself with the money he saved. Once he is qualified, he will be able to move out of his mother’s home and build a house of his own for his partner, Mbalu Katta, 21, and their three-year-old daughter, Emma.

Fatmata Kamara, 24, student and former burial team worker

Fatmata Kamara wants to use her experience of dealing with the Ebola outbreak to become a public health professional. She was studying for west Africa’s equivalent of A-levels when she saw a female Ebola victim’s body being handled by a man, which is against custom.

“They told me that no women had volunteered, so I decided to,” says Kamara, who took up the task of placing corpses into body bags. Many relatives were angry that they were prevented from washing the deceased’s body, according to tradition, but the burial teams found that female members – eight of Kambia’s 60 burial workers were women – could help calm potentially inflammatory situations.

“After the Ebola outbreak ended, I realised there are few specialist public health officers in Sierra Leone, so I enrolled in a course at the University of Makeni,” says Kamara, who has a six-year-old daughter, Naomi. “We’ll need people with particular skills and knowledge in case of another outbreak. That’s why I’m preparing myself.

“I feel my daughter now has a good future because she’ll get a good education … I’d like to see her grow up to be a doctor, so I want to set her a good example with my public health studies.”

Abubakarr Tony Kamara, 31, finance lecturer and former Ebola command centre coordinator in Kambia

When Ebola restrictions forced the closure of the University of Makeni, Abubakarr Tony Kamara was asked to head up the Ebola operation in Kambia. A former district youth chairperson, he was respected in the community and had an understanding of the area’s cultural sensitivities.

“It was a complex role – very different from my normal job. But they needed someone with an understanding of the area and I grew up in Kambia.”

As an Ebola response coordinator, based in the command and control logistical hub centre, Kamara had to ensure vehicles were called to emergency cases on time, and that safety procedures were followed.

“As coordinator, you have to put yourself in the place of the people who [are] affected and understand the situation from their point of view,” he says.

Kamara is now back at the University of Makeni, where he has been promoted to head of his university’s business administration department and has set about introducing an internship system and a programme to bring key speakers from the business world. He’s proud of his work in Kambia and the legacy it has left behind.

“In some areas, international staff had been running things and their expertise has now gone, but in Kambia we are still around. Cafod helped local people to take action for their own development, so we will be prepared in future,” he says.

Bobson Mansaray, 32, laboratory scientist

Bobson Mansaray, one of more than 10,000 Ebola survivors across west Africa, sees at least one positive legacy of the virus: a better-trained medical workforce.

Mansaray’s job, analysing samples in the lab at Kambia hospital, was key to distinguishing Ebola from malaria, which presents many of the same symptoms. But his world changed when a sample from one of the staff, Dr Godfrey George, tested positive for Ebola. “Everyone in the hospital was devastated,” he says. “We had worked so closely together, I just thought I must be positive too. I was so scared, I felt sick.”

Three days later Mansaray began suffering headaches, and put himself in quarantine. He too tested positive, but responded well to treatment, and was discharged after a fortnight. “By then Ebola was at its peak, and I was Kambia’s only senior lab scientist, so I wanted to get back to the lab,” he says.

As an Ebola survivor Mansaray was anxious as to how his colleagues would receive him.

“I was worried they would feel negative towards me and ignore me, but they embraced me.

“If I sat away from them, they would call me in and say, ‘Bobson, you don’t need to stay away. Come and join us to talk.’ They have helped me take my mind off what had happened.”

Mansaray sees his country as much better prepared to deal with any future outbreak. “Before Ebola the medical set-up was zero. You would see doctors seeing patients without using gloves,” he says. “Now, with protective gear and better training, they are equipped to prevent any future outbreak spreading.”

When Mansaray was being treated for Ebola, his family did not tell him that his eldest son, Mohamed – five at the time – had also shown symptoms, but tested negative. Now Mansaray and his wife have another son, Tosin, aged nine months. “He’s named after the man who took me for treatment,” he says.