Queen of Sheba 2

And then it happened . . . Yes that was where I was with that story.

As I mentioned earllier, that Queen of Sheba is one hell of a place. With the smell of Njera mingling with the aroma of burning goat meat, it was all set for a dramatic event about to happen.

A tall slim chick stepped into the place. She was all African beauty piled into one person. God was so generous to have given her all these qualities! However her face did not register the fun the place was set to see. You can tell she was out on a payback trip. She surveyed the place with her eyes, scanning the tables in one round sweep and settled on a group sitting in the far corner. Man you could tell fron her face tha radiated hatred in that semi-dark palour that a great event was about to be witnessed by men!

True, she walked over to the group, gripped a lady by the shoulder and pulled her out the way. She focused on her man and looked him straight in the face. Well, not a word was spoken, as he stood up slowly and left the table. She followed him outside.

Uhmm, a cheating husband caught in the act! Well, we were denied the drama by his cool act, but what the hell. Nothing bad happend! Sigh. I disappointed you.

It is one hell of a thing that is happening in the town. Where there is money, what men do best with it is is marry another wife! It is an unnecessary side effect of wealth, unfortunately. An unhealthy one too!

By being a frequent user of such places and picking on ladies of the night, there are also underlying bad sides. For one thing, AIDS is a real thing. I will leave that for next time! I seem to have lots of them these days, don’t I?

Going private

And now I will tell you why going full private is the way for me . . .

 A lot of colleagues know that going full private means you have nothing to do with hospitals. You go to your clinic in the morning and hope patients come. You do what you can and go back home, only to return again in the evening. Cool. You are in control of yourself. No headaches about nurese not reporting to duty, no missing stuff in the theater, no gloves available in the OPD. Sounds familiar?

I had a rather bad experience while working once in the hospital. It had nothing to do with luck of stuf, but bad practice. You see this hospital is almost like a private one, people have to pay for everything, from entrance fees to surgery and beds. Unfortunately they had a no tolerance rule for unpaying clients who regularly turn up at the hospital not knowing about the costs expected.

So one day a woman turned up at 12 mid-night with bleeding, clear an abortion and she needs quick assessment care less she bleeds to death. Imagine my utter dismay when the hospital staff turned her away because she couldn’t pay. She sat there in her pool of blood, an impending shock. They were adamant, even refused my offer to cover some of the cost when she couldn’t afford. It pains when money comes before life!

Many people would think I went private for the money. Not at all. Maybe I was not cut to be a medic? Maybe I am too faint hearted, couldn’t bear to see the inequality in tretament? Maybe. My reason may sound flimsy to you, but not for me! But I guess sitting in my own little OPD is my way of contributing towards the whole. Oneday, I am going back there.

You maybe wondering what happened to the lady? At least the hospital got her into an ambulance and carried her to another hospital. She survived. Could we call that a happy sad ending?

Queen of Sheba

Just the other day . . . 

Yes I was talking about the unhealthy boozing culture that is creeping into our society. The situation I was talking about happened at one of the coolest places in town: the Queen of Sheba.

You know with the advent of peace Juba has become really vibrant. There are lots of new hotels,  some in tents, others in prefabricated strutures and some are just putting up concrete ones, and the commonest thing they share: a bar! And they serve food too.

I was chilling out at the Sheba the other day. The place is in Hai Malakal, just near MSF offices. (If you are Juba bred person, it is opposite house of  Abel Alier). The place is cool man. It has a resort atmosphere, designed in wooden structures and thatched roof. There is Ethiopian DVD playing out of a TV screen in the corner, as the smell of “Njera” floating from my neighbours table tantalizing the tastebuds. And the beer was flowing . . .

Outside NGOs cars were parked: UN, UNMIS, MSF etc. There were also lots of cozy new SUVs with GOSS number plates. You know then there are big government people in here.

And then it happened . . . (To be continued)