NAMIBIA BUSHMAN MEDICAL CLINIC
Andrew Loftus 2007

The month I spent in Namibia was the single most rewarding activity that I have ever had the pleasure to a part of. This project combines the wonders of African wildlife with the experiences of both ends of the Namibian medical situation. I worked closely with Dr Rudie van Vuuren in his Windhoek clinic, driving every morning through the gorgeous rolling scrub of the Khomas region into the capitol. My time in this clinic gave me an insight into how medicine is practised in the richer more privileged areas of Namibia. It also gave me the opotunity to develop clinical skills that proved vital in the Bushman clinic. On several occasions I was able to observe minor surgeries, one of these held in the Windhoek state hospital that showed me how basic facilities can be and how ungrateful and lucky we are in this country.

After learning enough to be able to help the staff of the bushman lifeline clinic I was driven north to Gobabis, which has the closest hospital to the clinic, and then on to Post 3 or Epikuru. The lifeline clinic lies within a chain link compound along with the accommodation for the sister and volunteers. Whilst in the bush I was lucky enough to be there with a Namibian medical student, Steven, this made translation easier but still tricky at times. Most Herero can speak English but a lot speak Afrikaans and the bushman tend only to speak their native language, luckily a local girl, Natalia, translates. Most cases in the clinic are infections (urinary/respiratory) for which there are antibiotics to treat them. There is a large problem with alcohol in the underprivileged peoples in Namibia, which can be so bad that patients will sell their medication to get a drink. An effect of this aside from the obvious is that it is not uncommon for Bushmen to brew their own alcohol, which is so strong and drunk so regularly that it inflames the optic nerves and causes blindness. Treatments for liver conditions and sight impairments caused by alcohol are not available in the bush however educating the locals could prevent the damage in the first place.

We also got involved in some outreach work in going around the Bushman dwellings, hammered flat tins and corrugated iron if they weren't just a tarpaulin over some branches. Whilst giving out de-worming medication with the help of Simone (bushman handy-man for the clinic) we were lucky enough to come across a homeless mother and her very sick child. After much convincing she agreed to bring the child to the clinic. As soon as they arrived it was clear that the child has severe pneumonia and he quickly lost consciousness, as no IV antibiotics were available he had to be fed and treated via a nasogastric tube for several hours before we could arrange transport to Gobabis and a Hospital.

On one occasion, a Sunday when the clinic is usually closed, as Steven and I were returning form the local shop there was a Herero woman sitting by the gate of the compound. As we approached she started speaking Afrikaans and begging. Steven quickly told me that she wanted us to go and see her uncle who was in agonising pain in his back, knees, feet and hands, he could not move because of it. Five minutes later we were driving though Epikuru with some hastily gathered supplies, all the basics and a shot of diclofenac thanks to Stevens foresight, the Herero woman directing. We arrived at the stone cube that was their home and went inside. Between two blankets on a cold stone floor was a frail old man curled into a ball. After some very slow and painful movements he produced a key from under a blanket and opened a small chest, inside was his previous medical information on a small battered card. After an examination diclofenac was given and we asked him please come to the clinic tomorrow. Honestly I thought that the next day we would be driving back to the house and examining the same immobile ball of pain and misery that we had tried to help that day. But the next day, after walking across the sandy compound to the clinic in the blazing morning sun coffee in hand, there he was walking through the door a different man. One injection had turned a shadow of a human into the person he had been and with a few pills he could continue to live normally.

When it was time to leave Epikuru I was of course sad, however I knew I would be coming back…

I spent the last days in Namibia at the Wildlife Sanctuary fully involved in the wildlife project that is being undertaken there. This was the perfect way to end the adventure, bottle feeding baboons, grooming cheetahs, feeding lions and leopards and sitting round a fire pit with some of most interesting people I have ever met.

Andrew Loftus