Oops

She gets agitated each time she mentions it, yet somehow not talking about the incident only frustrates her more. With a heavy heart she starts recounting all the anguish her family had to endure these past months. It’s a story that I’ve heard several times since my arrival, the characters have different faces and names but the ending is inevitably the same. The anger is intense, the pain deep and the consequences- well they couldn’t be more real.

She wasn’t complaining that lately she felt tired all of the time and her legs felt weak so they decided to take her to one of the many hospitals that decorate the streets of Khartoum. The extortionist, sorry I meant doctor examines her after she has paid the required fee for his “services.” It’s not his fault that the fee is very high and only a select few can afford it, after all he is not the one who sets the rules – he merely plays by them – or so he tells himself. After the physical examination and then followed by some questions, he nods – scribbles and then nods some more all the while using words that no one can comprehend (why is it that doctors with all their supposed intelligence fail to master the art of simple oral communication?) the genius comes to a conclusion, “she has suffered a stroke”.

The shock leaves them speechless as he goes on about the severity of her case due to her old age and continues to write a manual of prescriptions for the patient. The elderly lady asked more details about her condition trying to comfort those accompanying her rather than herself.

Weeks passed and she wasn’t getting any better – if anything she seemed to be getting worse, because she could neither walk unaccompanied nor talk even. When the family asked the genius doctor man why this was happening, he spoke in a grave tone and told them that she was dying and all that they could do was pray for her….

Where the financial situation permits, despite the wave of doctors and hospitals that flood the country most families go all the way to Jordan for reliable health services. The flight was delayed a few times because the doctor here refused to write a medical report for them to take with them, in the end they had to threaten him that they’ll take him to court if he doesn’t give them the blasted thing and she was whisked away in a stretcher.

They arrived a few days later in Jordan, where the doctors proceeded to give them one shock after the other. The good news was that she never had a stroke but the effect of the medication on her aging body had done measurable damage but there was hope – there always is. After all, she only had a lack in calcium.

She returned to Sudan on a wheelchair and a huge smile, talking slowly but nevertheless talking. Those around her were relieved, excited, angry at the incompetence of the medical profession in Sudan, revolted at the price of our lives in our own country, sickened to their very core because change doesn’t seem anywhere near.

It’s been almost a month since she passed away, her body couldn’t handle the effects of the wrong medicine. Ina lil-lah wa ina ilehi raje’oun (we belong to Allah and to HIM we shall return).

How many more lives will we mourn? Why is it that we have so many doctors, hospitals, supermarkets, restaurants and fast food outlets when we are still dying, hungry, poor and miserable?

The other day someone was saying that if we only had healthcare and a good education system life would be bearable. It took me a while to understand why this statement provoked me so much and then it dawned on me, she said it as if it were a luxury to have these things when in my mind it’s a necessity.