With a Lantern
…In my right hand.
Temperature constant at 41 degrees for three days straight.
Something is not right.
There is 23, 650 francs under the mattress, 5000 more in the right pocket of the purse, and 13,000 francs is owed to her.
The nurses are stern, but not unkind:
They will treat her son even with a deposit.
She is strong enough to carry Cham to the hospital,
But even if she isn't, Pa Firewood will not mind giving them a ride in his wheelbarrow.
If they run fast enough, they will arrive at the clinic in 40 minutes.
If they can’t, they will keep trying until they do.
When she goes to work in the morning,
Mami Sandra from next door will keep an eye on him.
And when the pharmacy shuts down for the night,
Beltha, Aunty Mankaa’s daughter who is a nurse,
Will lend her painkillers.
The clinic is not big, but it has a reputation.
If it gets limited, as clinics do, the hospital is not a day away.
To rush there, the quarter-head may offer his bike.
If they get short on money, Ngess Market Trader’s Association will lend her some.
When they get lonely, her siblings will come to visit.
The hospital is far from home, but they will not starve.
The church women will bring food,
And there is clean tap water available.
Again, the nurses are stern, but not unkind.
The hospital is not popular, but the doctors know what they are doing.
…So it comes to pass just as she thought it would:
In no time, her son is running around with his mates,
And enjoying his childhood once again.
That’s the joy of certainty,
Or what passes for it.
Trusting that your means does not determine your future.
Knowing that where your hand falls short,
Your community will stand in for you.
Still, most importantly, resting well assured
That the health system is strong enough to be relied upon.
There is a peace in knowing that when sickness, the inevitable, comes around,
Your area, the place you reside,
Will not limit your ability to recover.
Trusting that your health system and the people that man it,
Are up to the challenge of stitching you up and sending you on your way.
Someone, many-ones as I say, do not have that peace.
Many people do not have hospitals they can reach in under five hours.
Others that do have clinics, trust the staff to be consistently absent from the premises.
Some know where help is, but the road there will be the cause of death.
These people sigh loud when they sense sickness around their corner.
They know their health system and their communities,
Cannot bring them out of it.
That… is the opposite of the peace we so often take for granted.
From a child who lived two minutes bike-time,
And fifteen minutes walk,
away from the Bamenda Regional Hospital,
I ask you, as a city resident, to appreciate your privilege.
While we empower ourselves to someday change the status quo,
It is important that recognize and appreciate the difference between ourselves and so many others.
Until we can help, may our hearts and prayers stay with them.
More from Bisi Amanwi.
