I vote for health

A large crowd is gathered by the roadside. People have abandoned their businesses and are speaking in low tones while exchanging puzzled looks. I am not a fan of crowds like these so I decide to walk on, then I hear the screams of a woman. I make my way through the crowd and see a woman writhing in pain on the hard dusty floor pulling out her braided hair. I move closer and touch her temples and notice their unusual tenderness. I feel her forehead and realise that she has a fever. I ask the crowd to move back to allow air circulation and then ask for a wet cloth to control the temperature and  put her in a recovery position. By this time, several women drawn nearer. They ensure her head is properly tilted and cover her body for decency. I notice that now, the women start to touch her. When I got there, there was not a single person near or even touching her. Later, I assume it had something to do with the superstitions of seizures and panic attacks.

My heart bleeds because even so, I do not see it befitting any dignity to have her on the road like that. But she is heavy and any effort to have the women carry her causes more pain. Pesh and I call a friend to take her to Kenyatta National Hospital. There is unimaginable traffic and it takes 30 minutes for the vehicle to get there. In the meantime, I am concerned about her children and her family. So I ask of any relatives within the vicinity. I am pointed out to her husband, who to my utter shock is part of the crowd. Part of the people who could not touch his wife. I am concerned about their children. No child deserves to see their mother in this state. So I think of directing the children to my house to have some food. Luckily, they are staying with another relative in another area. I ask the husband of any pre-existing epilepsy conditions his wife may have. He tells me this incident is a first and says, “this person has shocked me” (hii mtu imenishangaza sana). I probe further, “when did she start complaining of a headache?” “this morning,” I am told. He then draws out some tablets she had obtained from a local chemist usually prescribed for disillusioned patients. I look at my watch, it is now 7:30pm. Josh arrives and we put her in the car and send them off to Kenyatta Hospital. I pray she survives the traffic. I ask her husband to hold her like a child and keep talking to her until they get to hospital. He seems uncomfortable with this. I take his mobile number and ask one of her female friends to go with them and she graciously accepts.  I walk home, replaying the evening incident in my mind. That is how people die, I think to myself. 

Poverty has made Kenyans afraid to seek medical help even when their bodies scream for medical attention. I imagine that maybe she started feeling unwell a few days earlier but downplayed it because of the need to continue earning a living and running her domestic chores. I imagine that her husband possibly brushed off his wife’s headache as a sign of fatigue. I am worried that she may die at casualty if she is not attended to immediately. I can only pray. She is admitted quite fast and put under strict observation. I call her husband who assures me that she is responding to treatment. I feel at ease.  

I discuss the incident with my housemate, Carol. We veer off into the aspect of health policies for Kenya. Vesh and I pick up on the topic later. Sometimes I think we make policies for Kenya in this friendship circle than any average Kenyan relation. I recently decided to document our policy discussions. We all agree that health is the policy priority for Kenya. The practical aspect of accessible and affordable healthcare is the missing link to our country’s prosperity. We take note of the ridiculous health policies being taunted by some presidential aspirants, of ensuring that women give birth for free. Kenya does not just need women to give birth for free, we also need proper pre-natal and post-natal healthcare, more referral hospitals, hospital diagnostic equipment, well remunerated medical personnel and a healthcare policy with disaster preparedness mainstreaming.  So no, I do not accept any political manifestos that have health as an afterthought, at the periphery, at the end of their documents or manifestos that declare health but not the practical ways to ensure that health becomes an actionable priority. 

I decide that among other things, I am peacefully voting for health.