15/03/2018
I always wanted to be a doctor.
When I was young, we lived near Nanyuki District Hospital. I remember they had a little fishpond there, and we used to come and try and catch the goldfish. Next to the pond was the operating theatre, and we’d peek through the window and watch the surgeon at work. Since then, I knew that’s what I wanted to do.
Part of my medical degree was spent in Pakistan. I picked up a lot of my trauma experience there - the Soviets were in Afghanistan and we’d go across the border to help in the refugee camps. It has served me well in my role here, where we deal with emergencies in human/wildlife conflict, snake bites, gunshot wounds and severe altitude sickness. We are really a unique hospital.
And I love it. There’s a lot of job satisfaction. I like helping people and seeing them get better. Once we had someone come in who had been gored by a rhino. He had a wound the whole way through his chest - I saw rice coming out of the hole and I realised the horn must have also gone through his stomach. But we patched him up and seven days later he walked out, completely fine. We’ve had people injured by buffaloes, elephants, lions, leopard and over 350 snake bites. You couldn’t do this kind of work anywhere else in the world.
The hospital has grown so much since I first arrived 26 years ago. It used to just be a “European” old folk’s home. Now, we have 60 beds, we do surgeries, we have a labour ward and we are open to everyone. There is also an outreach programme in Gundua, where I go and treat people who can’t make it here, or can’t afford it. We also do some training with the nurses there, and in Lewa. But the county still needs more clinics, more staffing, more support - financially. So many people simply don’t have the money for medical help, though we do what we can for them.
For 17 years I was the only doctor here. I used to have a very short temper, as I’d go from delivering babies early in the morning, to a long line of outpatients and then someone would come in with a serious injury. It was high stress, and my bedside manner suffered. Then, someone told me, just count to ten. It was maybe the best advice I’ve been given. I’ve learned to be calmer, and to listen, rather than talk.
Part of the joy of living here is being part of a small community. Children I’ve delivered are coming here to have their own children. Some are themselves becoming doctors. Everyone knows everyone, and it’s like a family, you know? Living here, I think I was in the right place at the right time, and it’s made me what I am. People in Africa live in extremes, and I am on call 24/7 for Laikipia. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Dr. Abid Butt, OBE.