Finding Another Way

WRITER April Petrusma

As I write this, I’m sitting on the floor in the corner of a village community hall in Tavua on the island of Viti Levu, Fiji, taking a quiet moment after completing the first day of another week-long Optical Dispensers Australia (ODA) outreach for the South Pacific Eye Care (SPEC) Foundation. Around me, our volunteer team of 14 Australian optical dispensers, two optometrists, one ophthalmologist, and an incredible group of locals from Christian Helps are packing away trial frames, prescription glasses, and vision screening equipment before we load everything back into the minibuses for the two-hour journey to our base in Lautoka – where we’ll prepare to do it all again tomorrow in a different location.

It’s a familiar scene, yet one that never loses its impact.

For our volunteer optical dispensers, the ODA outreach is so much more than dispensing glasses. It’s about restoring independence, creating opportunities, building friendships across cultures, and witnessing first-hand the extraordinary difference something as simple as clear vision can make in a person’s life. Uncorrected refractive error remains the leading cause of vision impairment worldwide, and being able to use our skills to help address even a small part of that is both a privilege and a humbling experience.

Image

April Petrusma, co-founder of South Pacific Eye Care Foundation, writing about the experience.

Returning to Fiji this year has brought back countless memories of the past two years of outreach – experiences that transformed not only the lives of many of the people we met, but also had a lasting impact on every volunteer fortunate enough to be part of the journey.

Every volunteer gives up their annual leave, travels thousands of kilometres, and works long days because they believe everyone deserves the chance to see clearly, regardless of where they live or their financial circumstances.

It’s hard work. It’s emotional work. But it’s also incredibly rewarding work.

Each morning, as the sun rises over the island, we load our vehicles with equipment, donated prescription glasses, and supplies before making our way to a new village. Some days are busier than others. Today we screened 257 people and dispensed 313 pairs of prescription glasses, with presbyopia proving to be, by far, the most common condition we encountered.

Although this is now my third year as project coordinator and a volunteer, no two days are ever the same. Every day presents a different location, different challenges, and different stories waiting to unfold.

Some clinics are held in school classrooms, others beneath temporary shelters, in village halls, tents or even family homes. From the very first day of our inaugural outreach in 2024, we learnt that flexibility isn’t simply helpful, it is essential.

Today’s clinic was meant to be held at a school, but while we were en route, we received a call to say the venue was no longer available. Fortunately, the local village chief welcomed us into his community hall and quickly organised tables and chairs from the nearby school. Within minutes, our clinic was back on track.

As Australian optical dispensers, we’re accustomed to working in comfortable practices with modern equipment and familiar surroundings. Outreach work strips all of that away. Suddenly you’re adapting to heat, dust, changing light, no power, limited resources, language barriers, and patients who may have travelled hours to have their eyes examined.

Yet somehow, none of these challenges matter.

Instead, you become completely focused on the person sitting in front of you. A child. A parent. A grandparent. A farmer. A village chief. A school headmaster. Someone who needs your help, and someone whose life can be changed with a simple pair of glasses.

Every volunteer finds their place. Through trial and error, we’ve developed a streamlined system, with dedicated teams registering patients, screening vision, assisting the optometrists, and dispensing glasses. Everyone steps in wherever they’re needed, and it’s commonplace to work until the sun disappears below the horizon.

Sometimes, it doesn’t end there.

After a long day, when all you want is a shower and a chance to rest, that feeling is quickly replaced by the desire to help when we hear about patients unable to reach our clinics because of illness or disability.

Over the years we’ve made several home visits, but one evening stands out above all others. While half of our team returned to the hotel, six of us made our way down a rough dirt track through the darkness of a cane field.

The only light came from our phone torches as we met an elderly amputee who had previously lost an eye due to untreated glaucoma. He explained that the pressure had become so high the eye eventually ruptured.

Hearing his story was confronting, but it was also a powerful reminder of why outreach work matters. Access to basic eye care is

something many of us take for granted, yet for millions of people around the world it remains out of reach.

Not every memory revolves around patients. Some of my favourite moments happen after the clinics have closed.

Children challenge us to games of soccer that somehow become rugby. Village chiefs welcome us with extraordinary generosity. Families insist we share meals together. Choirs perform traditional songs that leave more than a few volunteers wiping away tears.

These moments remind us that outreach isn’t simply about providing a service. It’s about genuine human connection – both with the communities that welcome us and within our own team, where shared purpose quickly turns strangers into lifelong friends.

One thing every volunteer quickly learns is that Fiji has a wonderful way of keeping you humble.

Vehicles break down – we’ve experienced it all: our van, our ute, and even a boat. Equipment refuses to cooperate. Clinics become busier than expected. Supplies run low. Schedules often run to ‘Fiji time’, which usually means they don’t run to schedule at all.

Rather than becoming frustrated, our local partners taught us a phrase that has become our unofficial motto: “There’s always another...”

Another van. Another boat. Another solution. There’s always another way.

It’s become more than a saying. It’s a mindset. No matter what obstacle appears, everyone works together until a solution is found.

By the end of every outreach week, we’ll have screened more than 1,000 people, dispensed hundreds of pairs of prescription glasses, and shared information about eye health with many adults and children.

The numbers are significant, but they never tell the full story.

Behind every statistic may be a child who can now see the classroom blackboard. A grandparent who can thread a needle again. A parent who can return to work. Someone reading their Bible, recognising a loved one from across the road, or simply seeing their own reflection clearly for the first time in years.

Those are the moments that stay with you long after you return home.

Now, as I look around the community hall once more, someone is closing the last equipment case while another volunteer is sweeping the floor, and others are loading the waiting minibuses. In a few moments we’ll begin the journey back to Lautoka, ready to do it all again tomorrow.

The faces we’ll meet will be different, the location will change, and the challenges ahead remain unknown, but our purpose remains exactly the same.

Because somewhere out there is another person waiting to see the world more clearly – and that’s exactly why we’re here.

April Petrusma is the Chief Executive Officer of Optical Dispensers Australia. She co-founded the South Pacific Eye Care Foundation, which is a registered charitable organisation.

Image
Image

Volunteer team leader Allyson Freind working with SPEC Foundation co-founder Chedy Kalach (left), and people in line for near vision screening (above).

Image

Dispensing glasses to community members.