I was walking down the corridor of our 100-year-old hospital, and saw the big, noisy, milling crowd, just outside the Male Ward, blocking the view to the Out-Patient department beyond, where my private consulting chamber was situated. As I approached, I recognized one old man somewhere in the crowd, looking lost; he was the father of the patient I had just finished treating in the ICU, along with another even more critical patient whose chances of survival were only slightly above zero. The crowd of people, most of the villagers by the look of them, and appearing somewhat worse for the wear - they must have traveled a significant distance overnight to visit their beloved friend or relative - were noisy and appeared quite belligerent.
As I got closer, I could hear snippets of what they were saying, none of which was music to my ears. The moment I was abreast of them, they practically…
