I had seen and done many things in
Nairobi, neglecting the fact that I wasn't really feeling too well.
When I arrived in Nairobi I started feeling unwell, had problems with
my stomach and felt feverish many nights. In the beginning I thought
it might go away.. it's probably just something I ate.. but it
didn't. It just got worse and worse. I decided to see a doctor and
went to a clinic that looked quite reputable. In retrospect I should
have known they were not. They took a bunch of tests (for some of
which I am still waiting for results!) and made me pay a lot of
money. Probably without really knowing (and really caring) what I had
they gave me some random medicine that did not at correspond to the
symptoms I had explained to them. I took the medicine anyway, they
were doctors after all, and I had to trust they knew what they were
doing. Not surprisingly I did not feel better. It got worse. I
continued to take the medicine hoping it would help but knew I would
have to seek another doctor pretty quick. I went to the doctor that
is used by employees of the German embassy. Even he took a lot of
tests and said that all my values look normal. By random guess he
ordered the lab technician to test me for malaria: it was positive.
I was happy that I finally knew what
wrong with me. Still I felt extremely sick and violated as I had
trusted that the prophylaxis I had taken in addition to sleeping
under mosquito nets and using repellant, would protect me from this
nasty disease. The doctor prescribed some medicine that was supposed
to treat malaria (I was sceptical because it seemed so random: why
should I have malaria? Did this doctor too make a mistake?) . That
evening, feeling like dirt, extremely lonely in a crappy bed in a
noisy hostel, I decided I wanted to go home to Maputo. So that is
what happened. On the flight back I looked outside and saw Mt
Kilimanjaro towering above the clouds as if to say goodbye to me. It
made me think of all the things I have accomplished and seen on this
trip and made me very sad that it had to take such an aprupt end. I
don't want it to end but in the situation I was in it was the only
right thing to do.
Just like Livingstone and so many other
African explorers before me my trip was cancelled due to a simple
vicious parasite causing the nasty black water fever they call
malaria.. Unlike these explorers I didn't die. This is not the end of
my travels. It is only the beginning.
