Remember Molaw? He was the boy with a cancerous growth I wrote about in one of my first entries after arriving in Dubie. He came by the office yesterday to say goodbye.
He had made drawings of all the expats and was handing them out, clutching the coloring book and crayons that the expat doctor had given him in his other hand. The drawing of me is included below. We were all holding back tears.
This is the hardest part for me. Of a closure. Of my job. Of the absolute inequality in which I currently live. I get to go home in a few weeks to hot showers, a big steak and a health care system that will care for me regardless of what illness I have or how long it takes to treat it.
Molaw will get drugs to manage his pain for a month. But while some of his treatment is still available at the hospital, the Ministry of Health will install a user fee putting this largely out of reach for an orphan living with his great aunt. And that’s it. He waves and then climbs into the landcruiser that takes him back home.