A July Friday in TZ, 2026

Friday Our Last Clinic Day #6

One last prayer at the foot of God’s mountain. The moon’s bright beams peek from behind the clouds giving a lightness and splendour to New Hope. The bugs and birds and roosters sing me awake finishing the job my son started when he called me at 0430 this morning. It turns out I did not set my alarm so it was an unexpected and welcomed blessing! His mercies are new every morning. Thank God!

My spirit feels clear and ready for our final day of clinic until we arrive and set up. I arrrange my corner clinic with supplies, a chair…all the things. My first patient is my darling from former days, here for her last IV injection. She is understandably cautious but easily consolable in her uncertainty. The water bottle splint has protected her IV well so it is an easy thing to use and remove. She is on the mend and I send her off with her grateful Mama. My hands full of discarded supplies, I find someone has taken my garbage bag and I abruptly snap into an over reactive, as of the world is ending snit. It catches me by surprise and I realize my spirit is not as clear as I had hoped. Part of me lingers on the ‘thoughtless injustice’ and part of me prays for an attitude adjustment only God can provide.

My little family of girls has returned today for a trip to Longido for malnutrition evaluation. They are joining two other vans, full of patIents. There is a lively discussion in Swahili among my docs. When they are done, Dr. S realizes he has not included me and he turns to me. “We discriminated you,” he says. I was taking no offense and let out a hearty laugh despite myself.

The walk to the bathroom today becomes a social fiesta. Latin, a tall, handsome Maasai, stops to chat. He had brought his sick friend to the clinic from his house on the hill telling me this is his village. He asks me where I am from and wants to thank me for coming.

Further down the path, I spot four young boys playing under a thorn tree in the rocks. Their precious giggling catches my attention. I raise my hand and enthusiastically call out to them, “Jambo!” They are thrilled to be seen and their small bodies become pogo sticks with their jumping and waving. Their faces alight with wide grins of greeting.

I leave the path for a visit which, I think, surprises them. They close ranks, one going back for his Maasai stick. They stand together arm in arm as I approach. Three in the front and one behind who seems a bit shy as he holds a bottle cap in his mouth. I greet each one with a fist bump and my wee warriors pose for pictures. They give me a thumbs up and as I walk away, I can hear their soul delighting laughter. It is the attitude adjuster I need.

My corner clinic is busy. We have replaced my stock several times this week and so again today. The number of people with pneumonia exceeds anything we have seen before and our patients are so sick. Our guidelines advise multiple day treatments for the littles and my final round of repeat darlings cycle through today. They have increased energy, decreased fevers and more relaxed Mamas. It is another attitude adjuster as I see the effects of the medicine in smiling kids.

As with the start of clinic, the end tends to be a bit chaotic. Supplies are low, people are waiting and time is marching toward sunset. It is now that we need to pivot. As we clear the line inside, Kelly begins rapid assessment of those remaining outside. I am her runner. I dash inside to collect minor treatment items while she gives everyone vitamins and toothbrushes. It’s a win-win. Everyone gets something as we wrap up and gratitude is the predominant feeling shared by all.

What a week. It is always a bittersweet ending. We have shared so much as a team as we have become the life of Galatians 3:28.

“There is neither US and African,
neither examiner nor translator,
nor foreigner or local,
for we are all one in Christ Jesus.”
(Paraphrased)

There is truly nothing more meaningful and beautiful than to join Jesus in the work of taking back His beloved creation.

Tanzi
July, 2026