Medical School has always been the toughest time in the life of an aspiring doctor. Even for the eldest in the profession, the message has always been the same. As is the case of one of the eldest and most respected consultant at Moi University. He emphasizes that back in his day (1970’s) when he did his undergraduate, he did not enjoy the comfort of having computers, internet or appetizing literatures as is the case today. All the books he read were in black and white with little or no pictures… But that is not the epitome of my story, so here goes. You see, in med school, as in any other course, the only time that matters most is exam season. That time even the most serious alcoholics, jokers and the like turn to avid readers. All of a sudden the library is crammed as if the books were on offer.
Being in fourth year, it was all about clinical exams; four in total. There was internal medicine, Obstetrics and Gynecology, Pediatrics and Surgery. To bring to light how serious the end of year exams were, let me highlight a few facts. Each rotation represented a different or different specialties with their respective consultants. Each specialty had its own practice, protocol and science. Therefore you do agree that for a mere medical student it calls for a lot to be an internist, an obstetrician and gynecologist, a pediatrician and a surgeon.
It was during my end of year surgery exam that I had my greatest laugh, and this yes, is the epitome of my story. I had woken up at 6am so freaked out about my last exam… the rest had been equivocal. I hurriedly prepared and sat down to read, I could feel my heart pounding as I turned each page of my notepad and realized “ Ngai, haki nitapitia hii saa ngapi!?”. Nonetheless, I found myself in the surgical wards with a burns patient. Kamau* smiled and said he was tired of talking to students. I did not despair, I immediately turned our conversation into the appropriate mother tongue and it did the trick. He now sat up and said “ reu reke gutarerie uhoro” ( Now let me narrate to you my story).
As the story goes, Kamau worked at a car wash in Eldoret town. It was Saturday at around 7pm when he left for home, he made a stopover at his local chang’aa den. He had his regular and 8 glasses later he decided to stagger home. At 10 his neighbor also college at the den had himself locked out of his house by the landlord. He begged to spend at Kamau’s. Kamau agreed on condition that he got him some more ‘good stuff’ which he brought in plenty. They drank till the wee hours of the night. Suddenly, the kerosene lamp went dim, as Kamau stumbled to bed, he kicked it and it slung pouring kerosene on his trouser and setting it on fire. For Kamau, it was unknown to him and his cotton trouser was totally burnt off: still in his person. He had not felt a thing and he retired to bed. But this was not to be for long.
At 3 am, Am guessing the powerful anesthetic had worn of he woke up in pain. This was not in any way surprising but it was what he did that won him the award of being the first person to make me laugh within. “ Nikawakisha kiberiti na kuangalia nini ilikuwa mbaya, mguu yote ilikuwa brack” he said, “ nikaangalia chini ya kitanda na kuchukua kale kachang’aa kalikuwa kamebaki… nikamwagia mguu kiasi na hiyo nyingine nikakunywa, nililala pap!”.
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