Used syringes lying about at The Arab Clinic

A crumbling ward at The Arab Clinic

Medical drama

I grew up watching TV shows like CSI, Law and Order and Numbers where the bad guys were always the ones hiding behind a locked door and the men and women in blue had to kick their way in to bust up some nefarious activity.

The other day I got to live out that police dream. I accompanied the Ministry of Health and Sanitation on a crackdown on illegal hospitals and clinics in the city. We all piled into ministry cars and accompanied by armed policemen we set out to rid Freetown of quacks.

I have to say it was not the most subtle of raids. Our convoy was far too conspicuous and every where we went, a couple of public relations officers got out to clear the traffic for us. In the car with me was Dr Edward Nahim, the chief of medical services in Sierra Leone and the man in charge of the whole operation. Incidentally he is also the country’s only trained psychiatrist.

The first couple of stops were less than exciting; we checked papers and let them off with warnings. However it was an eye opener about the quality of healthcare in this country. Flickering lights, dingy wards, dirty sheets and filthy mosquito nets. If there had been a couple of drills lying around it could have been a scene from Eli Roth’s Hostel. These are not places where anyone can recover from anything.

The third place was where things not exciting. This was the Arab Clinic, part of a chain of Egyptian-owned private medical centres. Same ambience, even discarded needles lying lazily on a table near the reception. The man in charge seemed confused by our presence. Dr Nahim began interrogating the doctor in charge, a Guinean man who couldn’t produce any paperwork to prove that he was a certified medical practitioner. So amidst great pomp and protest we threw them into the police car and bolted the clinic.

Now comes the sad part, the patients who were admitted there. The ministry had obviously not thought this through very well and had no idea what to do with these people. They were simply told to “go to the nearest government hospital.” No one helped them remove their IVs or fetch them their crutches. “They’re better off without these fake doctors. This is dangerous,” Dr Nahim said to me. Surely there’s a reason they’re here. I winced as a young woman bled all over dress trying to pluck out the needle from her fore arm.

Same story at the next place. I was stunned by the fact that all the patients complied and agreed to be thrown out even though they had paid to be looked after. There was also no talk about whether they would get any money back.

By late afternoon everyone was pretty exhausted. Word seemed to have spread and every successive hospital we went to was shuttered already. Not sure what the point of this exercise was really, beyond publicity. It’s not going to stop illegal medical practitioners from treating desperate patients or mothers from dragging their daughters to unlicensed abortion clinics. The owners of these hospitals will bribe someone in the ministry and be back in business within a day.

That’s the cynic in me. The optimist however would like to believe that we stopped crime, saved lives and were heroes for the day.