[First published on 10th June 1999, this piece reports another episode in Professor Nkandu’s relentless campaign to destroy the national health system]
PROFESSOR OF DEATH
Last Thursday Sam and I were at the Utopian Termination Hospital, watching another amazing performance by Professor Nkandu Cholera, Minister for Death and Destruction. She was standing in the middle of the Mortuary, addressing a group of visiting dignitaries...
‘I thought we’d begin our tour of at the end of the production line, here in the Mortuary,’ said Professor Cholera. ‘Since my government came into office we have increased production here by four hundred percent.’
‘Is there any wastage?’ asked a voice.
‘None at all,’ said the Minister, with great satisfaction. ‘We have a hundred percent success rate. Everyone who comes in through the front door will certainly end up coming out here, though the Mortuary. It is therefore an extremely efficient system. We have been certified as cost-effective by the World Bank.’
‘What is the unit cost?’ asked one of the dignitaries.
‘Only 60 cents per corpse. This is the lowest unit cost achieved since the end of the Second World War.’
Polite applause echoed around the Mortuary.
‘Is this a result of your policies of structural adjustment?’ asked a dignitary from the IMF.
‘Oh yes,’ beamed the Professor of Death. ‘As soon as we came into office we expanded the Mortuary to four times its former size, in anticipation of the success of our economic policies. As you can see, the corpses are piled three high. We have even exceeded World Bank targets. That is why the Bank has brought you here today, to see this great example of economic reconstruction.’
‘Where are the mortuary attendants?’
‘Retrenched,’ replied the Professor. ‘We found that the relatives of the deceased are more efficient at finding the right corpse.’
Now we moved to the wards, to examine the patients being prepared for the Mortuary. All of the patients lay like skeletons, their sunken eyes staring motionless at the ceiling. Around each bed, a group of relatives mourned and wept.
‘All this waiting for them to die seems very inefficient,’ said one of the World Bank dignitaries. ‘Why do you admit them while they are still alive?’
‘In the Second Republic,’ replied the Professor with a sneer, ‘people developed the habit of bringing sick people into the hospital. You know our people are very simple and ignorant, and changing their out-of-date attitudes is one of the big problems of structural adjustment.’
‘Bit you could have people lying here for weeks! Shouldn’t they stay at home, until they’re ready to die?’
‘We’re already doing that,’ replied the Pompous Professor with some irritation. ‘Nursing is now provided in the home, by the Haworth Home Helpers. These women were previously unemployed housewives, who lolled around at home with nothing to do. After a lifetime of research, Professor Haworth discovered this pool of untapped labour, and has given them something useful to do.’
As we were looking at this dismal scene a fat rat scurried along the skirting board. Then it stopped suddenly, and began to nibble some invisible crumbs of food. ‘We used to employ cleaners and chased the rats,’ explained the Professor of Death. ‘But now we’ve employed the rats and chased the cleaners. They’re much more efficient at cleaning up any mess. And there’s no wages to pay, no union leaders to talk nonsense about wages, they find their own food and are willing to work all hours without complaint. An example to all other workers in Zambia.’
‘Doesn’t the state have any obligation to provide health care?’ asked one of the group.
‘What!’ screamed the Professor of Death. ‘These people become sick because they don’t even wash themselves! They’ve got filthy toilets, and they dig their wells in disgusting places! They must pay the penalty for their own disgusting behaviour! They’re just useless parasites who consume food and medicines, and produce nothing. Government policy is to support production, not consumption! They must learn to help themselves or make way for those who will!’
‘But still the government has to bear the cost when they are finally brought to the hospital.’
‘Certainly not! The Haworth Home Helpers have to come with the patient, to provide the food, buy the medicines, and provide the nursing care. That’s why you see these women sitting on the floor around every bed.’
‘What suppose patients are brought too soon? They could be here for weeks!’
‘We send them to the Operating Theatre,’ said the Professor of Death. ‘After that, they can go straight to the Mortuary.’
As we came out of the hospital, we found a crowd of five hundred nurses all sitting on the grass. The Pompous Professor quickly led us in the opposite direction. ‘I can’t waste time talking to them,’ she said, ‘they just can’t get the message. I’ve removed their jobs and their salaries, but they just won’t go away! If those scroungers dare to go back in there, I’ll make sure they only come out through the Mortuary!’
As we set off back to newsroom, I turned to Sam and said ‘I don’t know why she needs all this hard work and constant publicity, just to destroy a hospital.’
‘General Godless Meander is much cleverer,’ laughed Sam. ‘He managed to reduce the university to nothing while just sitting at home doing nothing!’
PROFESSOR OF DEATH
Last Thursday Sam and I were at the Utopian Termination Hospital, watching another amazing performance by Professor Nkandu Cholera, Minister for Death and Destruction. She was standing in the middle of the Mortuary, addressing a group of visiting dignitaries...
‘I thought we’d begin our tour of at the end of the production line, here in the Mortuary,’ said Professor Cholera. ‘Since my government came into office we have increased production here by four hundred percent.’
‘Is there any wastage?’ asked a voice.
‘None at all,’ said the Minister, with great satisfaction. ‘We have a hundred percent success rate. Everyone who comes in through the front door will certainly end up coming out here, though the Mortuary. It is therefore an extremely efficient system. We have been certified as cost-effective by the World Bank.’
‘What is the unit cost?’ asked one of the dignitaries.
‘Only 60 cents per corpse. This is the lowest unit cost achieved since the end of the Second World War.’
Polite applause echoed around the Mortuary.
‘Is this a result of your policies of structural adjustment?’ asked a dignitary from the IMF.
‘Oh yes,’ beamed the Professor of Death. ‘As soon as we came into office we expanded the Mortuary to four times its former size, in anticipation of the success of our economic policies. As you can see, the corpses are piled three high. We have even exceeded World Bank targets. That is why the Bank has brought you here today, to see this great example of economic reconstruction.’
‘Where are the mortuary attendants?’
‘Retrenched,’ replied the Professor. ‘We found that the relatives of the deceased are more efficient at finding the right corpse.’
Now we moved to the wards, to examine the patients being prepared for the Mortuary. All of the patients lay like skeletons, their sunken eyes staring motionless at the ceiling. Around each bed, a group of relatives mourned and wept.
‘All this waiting for them to die seems very inefficient,’ said one of the World Bank dignitaries. ‘Why do you admit them while they are still alive?’
‘In the Second Republic,’ replied the Professor with a sneer, ‘people developed the habit of bringing sick people into the hospital. You know our people are very simple and ignorant, and changing their out-of-date attitudes is one of the big problems of structural adjustment.’
‘Bit you could have people lying here for weeks! Shouldn’t they stay at home, until they’re ready to die?’
‘We’re already doing that,’ replied the Pompous Professor with some irritation. ‘Nursing is now provided in the home, by the Haworth Home Helpers. These women were previously unemployed housewives, who lolled around at home with nothing to do. After a lifetime of research, Professor Haworth discovered this pool of untapped labour, and has given them something useful to do.’
As we were looking at this dismal scene a fat rat scurried along the skirting board. Then it stopped suddenly, and began to nibble some invisible crumbs of food. ‘We used to employ cleaners and chased the rats,’ explained the Professor of Death. ‘But now we’ve employed the rats and chased the cleaners. They’re much more efficient at cleaning up any mess. And there’s no wages to pay, no union leaders to talk nonsense about wages, they find their own food and are willing to work all hours without complaint. An example to all other workers in Zambia.’
‘Doesn’t the state have any obligation to provide health care?’ asked one of the group.
‘What!’ screamed the Professor of Death. ‘These people become sick because they don’t even wash themselves! They’ve got filthy toilets, and they dig their wells in disgusting places! They must pay the penalty for their own disgusting behaviour! They’re just useless parasites who consume food and medicines, and produce nothing. Government policy is to support production, not consumption! They must learn to help themselves or make way for those who will!’
‘But still the government has to bear the cost when they are finally brought to the hospital.’
‘Certainly not! The Haworth Home Helpers have to come with the patient, to provide the food, buy the medicines, and provide the nursing care. That’s why you see these women sitting on the floor around every bed.’
‘What suppose patients are brought too soon? They could be here for weeks!’
‘We send them to the Operating Theatre,’ said the Professor of Death. ‘After that, they can go straight to the Mortuary.’
As we came out of the hospital, we found a crowd of five hundred nurses all sitting on the grass. The Pompous Professor quickly led us in the opposite direction. ‘I can’t waste time talking to them,’ she said, ‘they just can’t get the message. I’ve removed their jobs and their salaries, but they just won’t go away! If those scroungers dare to go back in there, I’ll make sure they only come out through the Mortuary!’
As we set off back to newsroom, I turned to Sam and said ‘I don’t know why she needs all this hard work and constant publicity, just to destroy a hospital.’
‘General Godless Meander is much cleverer,’ laughed Sam. ‘He managed to reduce the university to nothing while just sitting at home doing nothing!’
No comments:
Post a Comment