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shown our accommodations, the orphans on the compound greeted
us respectfully, remaining somewhat reserved. But a few hours
later, after all the introductions had been made, they swarmed us
and clung happily upon us, before treating us to traditional Kenyan
music and dance.
The next day we toured a local hospital, the provincial hospital
where the local Kenyans go for their medical needs. As we entered
the complex, the first building had a stenciled chart with medical
services provided and their associated fees. Our guide told us
that all medical services here consisted of fee-for-service. When
someone rolled into the emergency department, they often asked
for 50 shillings before a provider would even look at the patient.
If an individual was not able to pay, then he was often denied service regardless of how sick he was. After explaining this to us, he
shrugged his shoulders, as this was just a fact of life.
Our tour continued into the center of the one-story hospital
complex. As we dodged a flock of free roaming chickens, we noted
a few family members sitting beneath a sparse tree to escape the
noon heat. The hospital lacked any sort of waiting room, so people
rested wherever they could. As we entered the medical ward, the
lone doctor covering hurried to greet us. He was quickly examining rows of patients who lay on threadbare cots, only partially
covered by mosquito nets. Malaria, HIV, and diabetes were a few
of the diagnoses that the head nurse mumbled as we moved past.
Most of the patients barely acknowledged our presence. We then
were ushered into the hospital’s ICU which consisted of two cots,
IV poles, and a shared oxygen tank. No monitoring equipment
was to be found in this area, as they relied on frequent c X