6/6 is not my vision; I am just a finalist. At last. The sixth and final year in school. It feels good to say that I am a finalist, and I admit I am excited about it. I could compare it to the time I was in class 8, or form 4. I am tempted … Continue reading 6/6
Labour ward day 1. The sounds at either ends of the 9 months of pregnancy are the same. Grunts, moans, heavy breathing and puffing. They are unapologetically blasphemous. if there are times that people use the name of the lord their god in vain, it is then. There are the stoic ones, the ones … Continue reading Of a Hysterical Symphony
Photo by Suzanne D. Williams on Unsplash People don’t tell their stories as they grow but rather after they have grown and made it- when their stories mean something. These are the stories that we want to hear and read because we can derive inspiration from them. Struggling does not mean that you will get there, because you … Continue reading G for Growth
(This is a re-blog from claasicalletters.wordpress.com) When I was a little girl still shedding my milk teeth, I yearned to be a doctor. My parents were well aware of my dreams and my mum would call me Dr Karen. I loved it. It sounded lovely and I knew that I wanted to pursue a career … Continue reading Am I not Valuable?
Photo by Mihai Surdu on Unsplash How does a pandemic end? The word pandemic doesn’t sound quite right ever since I heard the Gengetone song “pandemic” by the Kenyan music group Ochungulo family. But I digress. Pandemics are considered ‘ended’ when there are few cases that are quickly contained in specific locations (words by Tom Koch). Historically, pandemics … Continue reading Two-Faced: Reflections on the pandemic
“Someone once said if you scratch a cynic, you’ll find a disappointed idealist. That really rang a bell with me- because I recognized that, within me, there is this flame, or wishing it were better, wishing people had better lives, that there was more of an authentic sharing and harmony with nature.” George Calin. I have met some of the most passionate individuals in town that have felt short-changed, that they can only do so much. imagine the child that grows to become a lawyer, propelled by the desire to fight injustice. Once she beat the odds and becomes a lawyer or a magistrate, reality hits her. She had observed or experienced some form of injustice while growing and swore to fight it but fails to because of factors beyond her. Among them is a toddler-like “revisitation” of the judicial system, a massive case backlog in the courts, shoddy investigations by the relevant agencies, name them. She fails to win cases, and another injustice is served, motivating another child to become a lawyer. She cries bitterly, feeling like she had betrayed her life’s dream.
“We are just practising witchcraft in the name of medicine!” clicked one frustrated registrar in a ward round in the acute care room. He had been managing a child with intractable convulsions. He was decrying the missing emergency care drugs in the ward and the tortoise-paced turn-around time in obtaining the crucial laboratory results. … Continue reading ICU Bed
Owang’ Sino, the son to Akoko and Chief Owuor Kembo of Sakwa becomes the chief after his father’s demise. He served his people well, but he is the subject of this paragraph because of the cause of his death. Owang’ Sino choked on a fishbone to his death. Read that again. Chok rech e … Continue reading F for Fishbone
(Don’t read this before a meal) In many instances have you sought to understand my medical school experiences. While this is in(consequential to you, dear sister, I do not want to bite the hand that feeds me and will indulge in your desire. Which of these important nothings shall I tell you first? 1 … Continue reading Dear Angela
I stared into the abyss but, thankfully, not long enough for the abyss to gaze at me. I don’t remember the events of the evening that led me to the event that is the subject of this story. Maybe it was one of our typical evenings at the Accident and Emergency (A&E)- answering the … Continue reading Where Is Thy Sting?