Another day, another disappointment at Robert Mugabe Clinic

Last Tuesday, I went to the Robert Mugabe Clinic to seek medical care, but all I left with was disappointment and unanswered questions.

Why did I have to wait in line for hours? Why was I sent away just as I was about to be seen? Where does a person go when their health is failing and the system seems to be failing them?

I fell while rearranging my closet a few days before going to the clinic. I hit my mouth against the compartment dividers, leaving me with a chipped tooth, busted lip and a very painful gash on the inside of my mouth. Panic overcame me when I noticed how red and swollen it was the next day. Worried that it might be infected, I decided to go to the Robert Mugabe Clinic in Windhoek.

I arrived at around 11h15. After having my vitals recorded, I was sent to the screening queue, which was long.

Trust me when I say long, I mean it was long!

After about an hour, I noticed some people becoming restless. Only about three people had been assisted out of about 12 others. People started walking out to get some air and stretch their legs, before rejoining the queue.

“They are so slow,” a woman behind me moaned while holding a baby.

Two hours later, I had grown frustrated and needed to get back to work. I left, intending to return later in the day.

Before this, I was a beneficiary of private medical care, so I had no idea how long anyone had to wait to be assisted at public health institutions.

So, it was really shocking to see the same people from the earlier queue still waiting when I got back to the clinic a little after 15h00.

A girl who was sitting about two places behind me before I left was now at the front of the queue. There were about eight people behind her. The waiting time between patients was between 25 to 35 minutes. Keep in mind, the clinic closes at 17h00.

About an hour and a half later, I was probably fourth from the door, when the nurse stepped out.

“We are not seeing any more patients. We are closed. Please come back tomorrow,” she said.

I, along with several others, began to bombard the nurse with questions.

“What do you mean?”

“How can you close while you still have to see us?”

Tensions were high at this point, and the group had the nurses backed into a corner.

“I’ve been sitting here the whole day. You have to help me!” the woman in front of me told the nurse, who simply scoffed and reiterated that the clinic was closing.

I was forced to leave without being assisted.

WAITING FOR CHANGE

In 2015, a baby died in its mother’s arms in the very same queue after waiting about two hours for assistance.

Selma Martin, who witnessed the incident, says the mother and her very sick baby were ignored.

“The nurses said when mothers come here with their babies they pretend they are sick so they can be assisted first.

“She waited in the queue and by the time they entered [the clinic], the next thing I heard was the mother screaming and crying,” Martin says.

She says the mother was told to go outside because people were not supposed to cry inside the clinic.

In 2019, mother of six Roimi Nandjebo (36) also died while waiting in the same line for over four hours.

This begs the question: Who’s next?

The Ministry of Health and Social Services says healthcare workers may not turn people waiting in line away when the clinic closes.

* Feni Hiveluah is a reporter at The Namibian.