The narrow convoluting pathways that make up the Kibera’s arterial routes declare a bustle which is vibrant and boisterous. Traders of dried fish, meat and other food stuffs amused the flies, whilst the rhythmic sub-bass from non-specific enterprises battled for attention. The community health care training team under Millicent’s watchful eye, attempted unsuccessfully to blend into the fiesta, attracting some unwanted attention as they picked their way through the uneven pathways towards Millicent’s clinic.
The clinic itself is a miracle in action. Blue painted corrugated steel surround the tiny waiting areas, consulting rooms, a laboratory furnished with a single microscope, a sick bay, and a bijou three bed delivery suite marginally smaller than the three beds. The dispensing of Antiretrovirals, immunisation, basic treatment and advice take place under the supervision of Millicent and her team. Part government funded and part NGO, the clinic defies economic gravity on every level and is an essential part of this area of Kibera. Fifty times the size would still be woefully inadequate.
Whilst picking our way through uneven terrain on the return leg, a cell phone rang in my pocket. Millicent now the self-appointed head of security and in a valiant attempt not to add to the crime figures, scolded mercilessly.
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