[Novel: Venus Syndrome] (165) Myoelectric Prosthetic Hand to the Deep Mountains of West Africa

Chapter 1: The Off-Road Beginning

"If you can't use it, it's meaningless."

That was what I had been told over and over.
Back when I was at the edge of the development department at Saisei Prosthetics.
Every time the control precision of neural prosthetics improved, it became "a given that Japanese people could use them."
Then what about this? In Sierra Leone, in a place where there are neither hands nor electricity, can I still make a prosthetic hand that can be used?――

For that test,Yuina Waridewas chosen.

SYNAPTICProject, simple and durable neural prosthetic, international field test.
Sent to the field as a subject and test engineer.
Target country: Republic of Sierra Leone.
Village name: Kakri.
Conditions: Unstable power supply / Unsanitary conditions / Includes users who are illiterate and non-English speakers.

On Yuina's schedule before departure, it was written like this:

"KAKRI FIELD: Arrival + Device Interaction (Day 1)"

Just that.
But, why is that "Arrival" so endless――.

⸻

9:00 AM, departed from Freetown.

The Land Cruiser arranged by the NGO looked sturdy at first glance.
But after an hour, the paved road ended, and we would be bouncing along a red dirt road.
The seats were thin, and every time my back hit the iron, my nerves ached dully.
The air conditioning didn't work; if I opened the window, heat and dust blew in, and if I closed it, I would get heatstroke.

"Pack in, and don't hit your head."

Misato Agina, the international liaison officer accompanying me, said flatly.
She is a former Japan Overseas Cooperation Volunteer member, famous for being "reliable but scary."
In the car without seatbelts, Yuina nodded silently.



I haven't used the prosthetic hand yet.
The prototype is sleeping at the bottom of my bag.
Solar-integrated, external myoelectric sensor type, opening and closing only.
It was supposed to be adjustable on-site with 3D-printed parts and adhesive parts――.

But the sensor adhesive surface is starting to peel off due to the humidity.
The manual is in English and has diagrams, but it is not adapted to the local language.
Will I really be able to reach "Interaction"?

While I was thinking about that, the car stopped suddenly.



The bridge――is gone.

It seems it was washed away during the rainy season.
A goat is relaxing on the other side of the river.
The driver, Alhaji, just said "Wait" and disappeared into the forest.

"……What are we going to do?"

"I think he went to pick up some boards."

"Boards?"

"We're going to build a bridge, right?"

I thought it was a joke. It wasn't a joke.



Alhaji really came back carrying a few boards and some scrap tires.
The car crossed the makeshift bridge while wobbling.
During that time, Misato took out her water bottle and drank. In silence.



In the afternoon, the road got even worse.

A cow is sleeping.
It won't wake up. Even if we honk the horn, it won't move.
The driver gets out and chases it away.
Even during that time, the engine cannot be turned off. Because it's hot.

"Will I get used to this kind of thing?"

"If you stay for five days, yes."

"Are we staying for five days?"

"According to the schedule, yes."

The fact that every answer is "according to the schedule" is what tires me out the most.



3:00 PM. A squall came.

In an instant, the wheels got stuck in the mud.
Alhaji shouted "Push!" again.
Misato opened the door without hesitation.

"Yuina, let's get out too."

"……I don't have an arm, though."

"You have legs, right?"

That's true, but isn't that too rough?
I plunged both feet into the muddy water and pushed the car body with my shoulder.
My body, without the prosthetic hand, tilted precariously.
Every time the car moved, my waist sank into the mud.

"I'm tired…… really, I'm so tired……"

Even when I said it out loud, no one answered.



5:00 PM. Finally, the village came into view.

"We're here," Misato said.

In the distance, a row of tin roofs.

Kakri――
The place I finally reached with such effort.
But for Yuina right now, it felt like "anywhere would have been fine."

Mud up to my thighs. My underwear is wet too.
Inside the bag, the prototype prosthetic hand's battery showed 37% remaining.
The villagers gathered around.

They were looking at her shoulder with eyes as if they were looking at a specimen.

Yuina said nothing and closed the door of the Land Cruiser with an expressionless face.

The journey hasn't ended yet.
Rather, this was just the beginning.

Chapter 2: Different Bodies, Different Lands

In Kakri village, the first place we were taken to was a building called the "former clinic."
Even so, part of the roof was missing, and there were cracks in the walls.
Inside, a metal examination table and a dusty scale remained.

"They said this will be where we stay," Misato said without looking back.
"Eh…… are we sleeping here?"

"Yeah. The NGO said they'd give us mosquito nets. Use insect repellent too."

There is no bed.

The floor was just hardened red clay, there were no window panes, and only the buzzing of insects echoed loudly.
Yuina put down her bag. As she stumbled slightly, the prototype prosthetic hand inside rattled.
That evening.



The first "person who wanted to try it on" came.
It was the young man without a right arm I had seen during the day.

He was a little older than Yuina. He spoke broken English, but his gestures were faster than his words.
He showed the stump of his right arm and pointed to the prosthetic hand.
"Put. Me. OK?"

Yuina nodded.

The prototype's myoelectric sensor is a simple specification that picks up muscle movement just by sticking it to the skin.
But――the problem was that I didn't know the exact position to stick it.
"Hmm…… around here, maybe…… but…… there's not much muscle……"

Yuina muttered in Japanese. The young man didn't understand.

The village children watching from the side giggled.
Tension and heat messed up the procedure. The adhesive part slipped, and the sensor fell off.

I'm also worried about the remaining battery.
Yuina pulled the bag toward her with her feet and looked for spare stickers. Since I can't use my hands, it takes time.
The young man and the children watched that scene in silence.

It was a look somewhat like a "spectacle."
"……Sorry, let me take it off once."



Yuina said that and removed the sensor.

A dry wind blew through, and the villagers' murmurs stopped.
No one said anything.

"Let's do it before the sun sets over there. It will be a blackout at night," Misato's voice was the only thing that was dry.

The fitting test didn't go well in the end.

The sensor response was weak, and it was difficult to get the signal for opening and closing.



Even when I conveyed "open, close" with gestures, the young man just tilted his head anxiously.

The prosthetic hand only moved slightly and didn't reach the point of grabbing things.
"……Well, it's the first time, so. It's not a bad start."
Misato said that, but it didn't sound like comfort to Yuina.

The young man said "Thanks" and quietly took off the prosthetic hand.

Expectation and disappointment lived thinly together on his face.
When the sun went down, the sky turned as black as ink.
Inside the flashlight and mosquito net, Yuina lay down.



My whole body felt sluggish, and in my head, the feeling of the sensor slipping still remained.

I came all the way from Japan, taking dozens of hours, the language doesn't get through, it's hot, humid, I'm bitten by mosquitoes,
the prosthetic hand didn't move well, and the villagers' eyes were cold the whole time.

"……Is this really meaningful?"
Even when I muttered that, Misato was already breathing steadily in her sleep.



Mud and sweat seeped into the back of Yuina's eyes.

Chapter 3: Things That Don't Get Through

The next morning, the ground was wet.
Drops fell from the gaps in the roof, and mud spread across the floor of the former clinic.
Outside the mosquito net, Misato was silently making breakfast.
Just a mixture of hardtack and skim milk powder. There is no fire.

"An interpreter is coming today," Misato said.
"Even though there wasn't one yesterday?"

"Well, it means they're moody. They're an NGO volunteer, after all."

Thinking that maybe that's not an interpreter anymore, Yuina plunged her feet into the mud.

Mud got into the straps of her sandals, and every time she walked, it made a squelching sound.
The interpreter was a young woman.



Her name was Amina. She is fluent in English and the local language (Mende), but she has a habit of talking while looking at her phone occasionally.
The young man――his name, the one who tried the prosthetic hand yesterday, seemed to be Momo.

"He was really looking forward to it when he heard you were the 'person bringing a new hand.' But because it didn't move well, he's a little……"

"A little?"

"He's disappointed. Probably. He said it's not your fault, though……"

"Whose words are those?"

"Eh?"

"Is 'it's not your fault' your words?"

"……Yeah, well, my interpretation."

Yuina sighed.

The ambiguity of the word "interpreter" weighs heavily on me now that I'm here.
In the afternoon, I fitted the prosthetic hand to Momo again.



I tried to explain the intention of actions like "grasp" and "open" through Amina, but he said in the middle of it.
"Why do I need to grab?"

I understood the meaning before it was translated.

"……No need to grab?"

"He says, in the farm, they use elbows, feet. His sister holds spoons for him. He doesn’t really grab things."

Grabbing is not the goal.

The very concept of "using a hand" was different from the Japanese premise.
Yuina stood still.

The "grasping function" of the prosthetic hand, developed over hundreds of hours,

was not needed here in the first place.
"……I see. I see. We brought it thinking 'this is convenient,' but is it not 'convenient' in the first place?"



"He says that in words, but he does want to try using it."

"Doesn't that mean it's just 'novel'?"

"……Maybe. But he was asking 'why do you do that when it's not your own hand?'"

"How did you translate that?"

"I said 'She wants to know if it helps your life'."

That wasn't a lie. But it was an incomplete word.

The sun sets.



Today, it didn't move well either.
But Momo didn't return the prosthetic hand, and while wearing it on his arm, he went around showing it to the village children.

Misato, who was watching that from afar, muttered.
"How to use it will come later. What you brought wasn't a 'tool,' but a 'question'."

"A question, you say?"

"You came to ask 'Can this be used?', right?"

The answer to the question hasn't come out yet.



Rather, it was even less visible than yesterday.
But the question was certainly "there."

As Momo's own question, which belonged to no one else.
Yuina closed the case of the prototype, which still had mud spots on it.



It's not something that can be wiped off in one night.
However, I also felt that the mud itself was proof that this prosthetic hand "was here."

Chapter 4: A Distant Handshake

In the morning, the wind was cooler than usual.
Perhaps the humidity had dropped, the mud was starting to dry, and the village air felt a little lighter.
Yuina was watching the shadow of the Land Cruiser illuminated by the sun in front of the former clinic.
Yesterday evening, the sight of Momo walking through the village while wearing the prosthetic hand still remained in my eyes.

"They said there's no fitting test today. Momo went to the field from the morning," Misato came and said. She was holding bread and canned food for breakfast.

"……I see. I wonder if he'll use it."

"Use it, or rather…… he was kind of 'acting like he was using it.' He was taking care of his younger brother and stuff."

"Is 'acting like it' okay?"

"If 'acting like it' continues, won't that become 'using it'?"

The way she said it was a bit funny, and Yuina laughed through her nose.

At noon, when I was organizing supplies in the bed of the Land Cruiser, I heard the laughter of children from behind.



When I turned around, Momo was standing there, back from the field. Sweat was oozing on his face and neck, and the prototype was still on his right arm.
A small flower was tucked into the hand of the prosthetic.

"Hey, Yuina. Look."

Momo lifted the prosthetic hand a little to show me.

Perhaps because the opening and closing didn't work well, the flower wasn't held properly and was fluttering inside the palm.
"……flower?"

"Yes. For you. You came far. Very far."

Momo took the flower from the hand of the prosthetic and offered it with just his shoulder.

That gesture looked like a somewhat awkward "handshake."
Yuina stepped closer without thinking, tilted her head slightly, and gently pushed out her shoulder to respond.

Shoulder touched shoulder, just a little.

It was only for a moment. But――that was the most distant and gentlest handshake we could exchange in this village.

Misato said from behind.



"So, can you write that in the internal report?"

"……I can't."

"Right."

The flower was a small wildflower.



I don't even know its name, but I put it in my pocket, having received it with my shoulder, not my fingers.
I still haven't found the answer to what I accomplished in this village.

I don't even know if the prosthetic hand will continue to be used like this.
But in that "Thank you" from Momo,
there was certainly something that was conveyed without going through anyone's translation.
Yuina muttered softly.



"……Maybe it was good that I came."

In the dust, beside the Land Cruiser,



the flower in my pocket was swaying gently.
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