This health crisis was a century in the making, Covid just exposed it

Author: Daniel K Kalinaki. PHOTO/FILE. 

What you need to know:

  • The most obvious is that people are so used to privately paying for what should be public goods, that they have diminished expectations from the State. If a private hospital started offering vaccinations for a fee, many people will flock to it, even if the government claimed the vaccines were not safe or must be free. 

In September 1989, a flood of humanity began to flow to Lutunku Village in Sembabule, then part of Masaka District, in search for healing. Nanyonga, a peasant woman in the village, and a devout Catholic, said she had received a vision in the night which told her that she could cure all manner of diseases using soil from her garden.

So Nanyonga started dishing it out, first to friends and relatives, then to people from far and wide, for Uganda was then in the throes of the Aids epidemic. It wasn’t just villagers and peasants who came, but also the rich and the powerful. 

Nanyonga did not hit pay dirt. The soil wasn’t for sale, and she told her ‘patients’ that it would not work if they sold it on. But with Aids still enveloped in stigma, it didn’t stop a black market from emerging, of fleet-footed fellas willing to collect, for a fee, the soil from the source and deliver it to the cars of those who did not want “to be seen in people”.

In a little over a month, Ms Nanyonga had prescribed 30 tonnes of dirt, according to one estimate. But as one patient after another bit the dust, it became clear that she wasn’t the salt of the earth, and the crowds began thinning, until they eventually dried up like the Sembabule savannah.

We are reminded of the Nanyonga story because of the controversy over the covidex drug. Unlike Nanyoga’s handful of dirt, this was created by a well-regarded pharmacist, and, from what one gathers, does not claim to cure patients of the coronavirus but offers symptomatic relief, as many other things indeed do.

Regardless of what the National Drug Authority says, and regardless of whether the drug works or not, desperate people will seek it out and try it. In fact, in short order, it will be counterfeited and ‘variants’ will emerge as capitalism matches supply to demand.

Overall, the clamour over covidex, like the dash for Nanyonga’s dirt before, reflects a disillusionment with official solutions to real and urgent problems. In the case of Aids, it was perhaps understandable because there was no known cure or vaccine against HIV which caused it. 

With Covid, there are known vaccines that have worked elsewhere, and known treatments to save lives. Why, then, are people willing to pay an arm and a leg for a herbal therapy rather than demand for oxygen and vaccines from the government?

 The most obvious is that people are so used to privately paying for what should be public goods, that they have diminished expectations from the State. If a private hospital started offering vaccinations for a fee, many people will flock to it, even if the government claimed the vaccines were not safe or must be free. 

 But it is also possible that, deep down, we have never really relied on the State for or seen it as the primary provider of healthcare. The history of Western health care in Uganda is tied to faith-based organisations and most of the main hospitals – Mengo, Rubaga, Nsambya, Kibuli, Kitovu et cetera – were all founded by or are run by religious organisations. 

This isn’t surprising, for even in the pre-colonial era, the concept of healing was closely associated with faith and religious leaders, all of whom were lumped together under the grass thatch of ‘witchcraft’ when the missionaries arrived. 

It is easy to see why highly educated people ate Nanyonga’s soil in vain, and why many ‘prayer warriors’ today still seek spiritual assistance to physical and worldly ailments, even where science offers proven remedies. 

 Covid has undressed the tapestry of propaganda around the state of the country’s healthcare system and exposed it in many areas as dysfunctional and donor dependent. Those left standing whenever the pandemic finally passes will have to choose between a return to traditional forms of healing, or to demand for higher-quality and more affordable modern healthcare. 

That we have gone from eating dirt to inhaling a pharmacist’s concoction shows the direction of travel is towards the latter. Healthcare is finally becoming openly political, and the contests will be not in the Sembabule savannah, but in the wards and in the streets, at least of public debate. The crisis has been long in brewing, Covid has exposed and added oxygen to the fire.

Mr Kalinaki is a journalist and  poor man’s freedom fighter. 

Twitter: @Kalinaki