After hearing the confession of the last critical
patient in the Referral Hospital on the shores of Lake Victoria in western
Tanzania, I began the walk home through a long dark corridor. The electricity
had gone off which often is the case in Tanzania. But in the shadows I could see
a man deliberately running toward me. I was alone. So I braced myself, as I had
in similar situations in my hometown of New York. When he reached my side the
young man quickly asked in Swahili, "Do you remember my name?" Nervously I
answered, "No, but if you tell me again I promise I’ll never forget." Then, he
pulled up his trouser leg, showed an artificial limb and explained that I had
saved his life 10 years ago. I immediately remembered that several hundred miles
away in a hospital in the Serengeti I had amputated his mangled leg after he had
been nearly killed by a crocodile. I explained I was not the person to thank,
but he should thank the people in the USA who sent me to Tanzania with all I
needed to do his operation when he was just a boy. He replied, "Father, I am
married now, I have children, it took me years to find you. I do not have time
to look for anyone else, will you thank them for me?"