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Things are spiraling out of control. One of the Nigerian doctors was spat on by a patient yesterday. According to the other interns, the patient said she didn’t want to be examined by a cockroach. Many of the foreign doctors are now saying they don’t feel safe coming to work. And Nyasha is still not speaking to me over the whole burn-patient thing.
It’s crazy, Lord. This is crazy. What have we become?
I’ve resolved that I must do something to stop this. Or at least try.
I’m going to draw up a petition. I’ll print it and distribute it around the morning departmental meetings. I’ll get all the other interns to sign it, too, deliver it to the doctors’ quarters, put it under everybody’s doors. I’ll stick it up at the blood bank and in the lab so that students coming to fetch results can sign it while they wait. Maybe even at the security gate. As people sign themselves in they could simultaneously sign the petition, too. I could even walk around the cafeteria at lunchtimes, table to table, and ask people to sign. I could leave it in the anesthetists’ tea room so they could sign it between cases. Maybe even in the Emergency Department, as people wait, I could ask families of patients to sign it, too. And if the CEO of the hospital signs it, and the senior leadership, maybe I could even write to the local newspaper. Maybe it could make it to the Minister of Health and the minister could sign it. Maybe I could even get in touch with other interns on the intern Facebook page and ask them to circulate it to other hospitals. Maybe eventually it could become a countrywide thing for the whole nation to sign. Then the world will see that this isn’t who we are, and that those thugs out there going around killing foreigners don’t represent the majority of us. Maybe this petition will bring this madness to an end.
But I won’t tell Nyasha. I want to do this all by myself. I want to surprise her. Then she will see just how much I love her, just how different I am, just how much I care.
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Oh my gosh, Lord, I myself cannot believe how many people have signed the petition. It’s had 3,000 Shares on Facebook and 10,000 Likes. I had a call this morning from a lady from SAFM who wants to interview me about what we’re doing. I also got a mention in the Mail & Guardian Online and the journalist at the end of the article challenged doctors around the country to do the same and stand up to xenophobia.
Lord, it’s so strange, You know. I always knew You were going to use me for something important, but I couldn’t have guessed it would be this. It really feels great to be at the forefront of something good. I can’t remember the last time I achieved something single-handedly. I’m finally coming into my own. The Mail & Guardian described me as a young activist, an inspiration. I’ve never thought of myself as an activist, as inspiring to anyone, but there it all was, and they said it, not me.
I made the mistake of telling Sister Palesa about the article and the potential radio interview, and that the success of the petition had gotten me thinking about organizing an anti-xenophobia march in the community. Instead of congratulating me on the success of the initiative, she showered me with criticism. I was going to land myself in trouble, she said. This wasn’t the suburbs. People here are really suffering, she said, and foreigners are largely to blame.
“People can’t feed their families, Doctor. These foreigners are eating everything. If it’s not the Nigerians, it’s the Somalis. If it’s not the Somalis, it’s the Chinese. Enough with this petition nonsense now, or you’re really going to irritate people and get yourself hurt. Focus on your work. People around here don’t like it when children don’t know how to behave.”
When I got home this afternoon I told Nyasha what Sister Palesa had said. Nyasha said she wasn’t surprised. Perhaps it was better to stop. She didn’t want me getting hurt.
“These people are crazy, Masechaba. And anyway, going on radio and everything is an unnecessary amount of attention. These things are delicate political matters. Leave it to the real activists.”
I’m annoyed. Here I am trying to do a good thing, trying to stand up for something I believe in. And the people around me who should be supporting me, who should be proud of me, are telling me to stop because the community will be irritated? Really? Who gives a fuck about the community? What’s happening is wrong, and if we don’t stand against what’s wrong, who will? You’d think Nyasha of all people would get this. I finally have a cause, something to wake up for, something to hang myself on, and Nyasha wants to take that away from me? No, I’m going to see this thing through. Was it not Nyasha who chastised me for allegedly neglecting that burn patient from Mozambique? Was she not the same person who swore at me for not doing more? And now that I am doing more, she has nothing but discouragement for me. The same Nyasha who goes running around to poetry sessions, criticizing African presidents whose countries she knows nothing about, insisting that we must put an end to white supremacy once
