It was a hot morning, emergency room was busy as usual. While all colleagues were fully occupied by patients, one more patient had arrived by stretcher.
Despite the surprise of finding Gweru recently on a world map (in the absence of the likes of Harare and Bulawayo) the fact remains that Gweru is, in reality, a small town that feels like a large village. I’m certain that I could walk from one side
White noise. I’m hunched over the radio, but however close I lean to the receiver, I just hear white noise. I’ve got my eyes closed and I’m frowning. I’m actually trying to squint with my ears.
The mango season is coming to an end, but the heat persists. It's 35 degrees Celsius, inside the office! Sweat is dripping down my face, down my arms, down my back. There is nowhere to escape the heat.
Ntabamhlope is one of my favourite clinics. And it’s not just the fascinating name that I enjoy. It’s the cross-country journey we take to get there. It’s the ancient, broad trunked tree in the corner of the compound.
