As we enter the long corridor, a strip light overhead flickers for a final few seconds before joining some of the other lights in the corridor that have long since given up and now do little more than collect dust. The few remaining lights throw strange long shadows next to the wheeled beds that rest head to toe along the side of the corridor. It reminds me of the Kampala traffic jam that stacks up outside the hospital in the choking city heat.
No natural light makes it into the corridor but somehow the faint smell of congested traffic makes it up onto the third floor of Mulago Hospital to intermingle with the smell of humans and disinfectant. Avoiding the few harsh strip lights that still work, patients lie either in the shadow of their own headboards or with their thin sheets pulled over their heads.
As I walk down the corridor I step carefully over the relatives, water bottles, half eaten meals and other ordinary items that are dotted across the floor. The patients rely on relatives for not just company but also for a lot of the day to day care….
Read the full article on the International edition of ehospice.
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