Thoughts in a Hospital Waiting Area…

In this life, we are not perfect and quite frankly neither are our bodies. It is true that I believe myself a god.


Not heresy. Just a god.


Because I am.

I am made in the image of Him who walked through the universe flinging the stars against the sky; spinning the sun on his finger into its orbit; summoning- like a king summons subjects, the plants and the millions of species to sprout of the earth; wild and free!

But the one quintessential element this Walker (lets call him Johnnie shall we?) forgot to give me was spare parts … you know like the Ferrari, or like the Toyota? How are you going to give me a mind that the universe has never had the chance to witness, the body of a man and then not give me spare parts? Indictment No. 1

These thoughts are scampering through my mind as I queue up in one of Uganda’s Healthcare Mis-Delivery System’s outlets [read hospital].

Frankly am tired of typing in Braille so am getting me a some software for my eyes, kinda like increased RAM for a computer… I am typing this post in the hospital with the slight murmur of patients!

So here is my problem. Ugandans are perpetually late for everything in life:

They stay longer in the womb; they are late when they go to school so they finish Senior Four when they are 19/20,much older than nearly anywhere else the world; they are late for wedding meetings and even later for the wedding itself; they are late to collect money from the bank and occasionally end up borrowing from a friend [call him John too] and then they have to pay him with interest (if they ever pay him). They pay him late and because he has no transport he cant come early to the wedding meeting… (whose wedding meeting?) Pick any one of the two million in Kampala and you’ll still be right. There’s always a John and a Richard in every wedding organizing committee!

Am done with my parents’ threats mbu “if you don’t attend your friends’ wedding meetings, no one will attend yours”… Indictment No. 2

and now we interrupt normal programming to bring a special Leonidas moment:

Colinidas: Kampalans!!! What is your profession?!!

Kampalans: [in unison] Party crashing !Party crashing! Party crashing!!!

and now back to normal viewing…

But I digress. Ugandans are late for everything except here… Where people got up before Six O’clock in the morning to come here and queue up. I am here at 7:30 am and there are 40 people in the waiting area, which is sorted between priority customers and normal clients.

Yeah priority customers. Like esteem, executive or pinnacle banking! I wont pay priority whatever it is called. It will be a cold day in hell if I ever pay to receive a good service in a Ugandan government facility!

8:17am: There are close to 100 people in the room and counting! It worries me that all these people cant see and have hence all come to have their eyes checked. Good sign. I scan the room and I note particularly there are no boda drivers present or taxi drivers. Wait, unless they are disguised like sexagenarian [60year-olds] women in long shawls and pre- pubescent kids in the company of their mothers. My worry is valid.

As I worry a thought comes to mind, maybe we should toa order for all boda riders and taxi drivers to get mandatory eye check ups and secretly bribe all the opticians to slam glasses on them! Kinda like what one health minister suggested about circumcision? Yeah you heard me right. The bloody guy suggested that the government, which was struggling already under the abscondment of the GAVI funds should roll out [and hear this] a Mass Male Circumcision Plan [MMCP}!

I think someone should just roll out a massive beating to that idiot…

Over. and. out.

2 thoughts on “Thoughts in a Hospital Waiting Area…

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