Here with my mom on an emergency to see her specialist doctor at Connaught (we have no option—it is an emergency). The porter (who appears to be a minor or perhaps a new entrant into adulthood) declines attending to us saying he does not have a face mask and gloves. They have not been supplied, he ventures an explanation. We have to fetch a wheelchair ourselves. After few minutes of scouring the entrance, the only one which is available, left over the gutter abutting the main gate, we joyfully grab. It has a broken leg. But we have no option. The guy at the triage, yells at us to piggyback her and get to the screening point since the wheelchair is visibly on its way to ruin. We have no option. After about half an hour without any help from the young men none of whom wears a mask, we consult our good old friend “sababu”. Do we have an option? The inertia is mobilized.
The mini foot-press water tank has run out of water and so folks cannot now wash their hands. After failed attempt, they stroll into the triage section. There might be social distancing in our media announcements and in our heads, but not here at Connaught. They tell us we are ready to fight COVID-19 but my little experience at Connaught here says a loud opposite. Ebola left us good enough lessons and experiences; God gave us sufficient time to be ready to deal Corona a blow with muscles of our experience and great preparedness; but I guess we forget too easily and we treat ourselves too casually. As for our leaders, they only think about us when we have their votes in our hands.
We are still here…crossed the first hurdle. The nurses who are attending to her, are swelling the refrain ”we nor get gloves o” but we have no option.
They say we are ready…but do we have an option not to believe!
©️Augustine Sorie-Sengbe Marrah Esq.
16-05-2020 @ 14:40GMT