I need a doctor. And I need one now! Not Dr.Dre, neither am I Eminem. I’m talkin about those heroes who don white coats and stethoscopes on their neck. The one you met when your body felt being healthy was too mainstream.
See, we are barely two months into 2017 and I have lost at least 3 really close people already. None of them was shot or committed suicide. Neither that it was their time to die but simply because the government WE voted in decided that just like many other national necessities, doctors concerns are not of national importance.
Problem is, the people with the power and ability to get doctors back to work are busy dabbing or totting licenced fire arms at the people who elected them. If this is not impunity, somebody school me already.
Just in case you are wondering why I am so rancorous about this whole issue, here’s why.
Mid last month, a friend fell ill late in the night. Really ill. So we decided to rush him to a nearby private hospital since the doctors in public hospitals were on strike. You’d think we’d get help, right? WRONG!
At the private hospital, we were made aware that the much doctors there could do was stabilise our falling soldier in a bid to buy him time before he gets to the nearest suitable public hospital. I know you might be wondering why we never had him treated at the same hospital. But where on earth would we get Ksh.30, 000 at 1am mid-January? We do not work at NYS you know. Our “arms” are not as long as those of the government either. Long story short, we lacked the financial prowess.
But a poor man really has no options more so around here. So our brother got stabilised, and we were give an ambulance to ferry him to the nearest public hospital where upon arrival we all got sick, the ambulance driver included. The sight as one I will never want to relive. Ever.
At the waiting bay lay dozens of people. Some taking their last breaths. Others mumbling their last prayers to the God above since the gods in white were nowhere to be seen. I witnessed a mother pass away in her 13 year old daughter’s arm. I heard her cry out. A cry that cut through me in ways a thousand samurai blades will never understand.
Back to my ailing friend.
He lay on his stretcher, holding on to life with hope that he shall see a doctor soon. But we all knew the only doctor he could probably see at this point in time was Dr.Kanyari in one of those numerous YouTube videos, or Dr. Ringding. He was a reggae fanatic anyway. Devastated, we decided to rush him to a friend-owned dispensary in Kayole knowing too well there was not much that could be done over there. But you know a drowning man will cling onto a straw.
Sadly, our sick friend never made it Kayole. He died on his way there. While I watched hopelessly.
http://https://youtu.be/oRrJx-CAf04
I may not reach the president but I know one of you will. And when you do, kindly tell him his government has put me in much more trauma than all the terrorist attacks within and without Kenya have or ever will.
Tell him that courtesy of his government, people are rocking their loved ones to death. And please do not forget to mention that all those are votes he is losing, since that’s all they care about anyway.
Dear Mr. President,
You locked up doctors for fighting for a better healthcare system. And a result, many more lives, hopes and dreams are being lost. Being human I may want to wish the worst on you but my clerical godfather did a really good job. So I will just wish you all the best in your endeavours, and a (really) long life. We need you around when karma strikes.