Being Rich Could Have Led to Her Demise by Now
Why Being Rich Might Have Killed Her
It was 9:00 in the morning when my mobile phone rang. I answered the call and said, "Naam!" In Swahili, "naam" loosely translates to "hello."
"I was given your phone number by…" the man on the other end mentioned a name, but I had forgotten it.
"Okay. What can I do for you?" I replied.
"We have a kidney patient. She is currently admitted at Muhimbili National Hospital. The hospital says she must undergo dialysis weekly, but we don't have the money, and the patient doesn't have medical insurance. The person who gave us your number accidentally learned about our situation and decided to help. He says you are a renowned alternative medicine practitioner who can assist us!" The man explained enthusiastically.
I wanted to tell him he was mistaken, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. From his tone, it was clear they were pinning all their hopes on me. I told him to come and see me once they got a hospital discharge and gave him my address, hoping fervently they wouldn't show up. You see, I had no idea how to cure kidney disease. Although I had (and still have) a license to practice alternative medicine, this was the first time I had been asked to treat a kidney patient.
Not knowing what else to do, I pushed the issue from my mind and focused on other matters. At 3:00 in the afternoon, I glanced outside my office door. My office is located at the back of a building, with the door facing the street about thirty or forty meters away. The sight that greeted me shocked me: four people were approaching — three women and one man. One of the women was being carried on the man's back. I was speechless!
Slowly, they entered my office. It was sparsely furnished, with only a few ordinary chairs and no couch. The man placed the woman on the floor and sat in one of the chairs, while the other two women took their seats. The woman on the floor was whimpering, clearly in severe pain or discomfort.
"You are Doctor Juma?" the man asked. Without waiting for my reply, he continued, pointing at the woman on the floor. "This is the patient I told you about over the phone. Her name is Rehema. We are all siblings here. These two are my sisters, but Rehema is the youngest. The doctors at Muhimbili say she needs dialysis. They say she must have her blood cleansed at least once a week; otherwise, she won't survive. Our biggest problem is the cost. A single session costs 450,000 Tanzanian shillings. Our family is poor, and our sister doesn't have medical insurance."
At the time, 450,000 Tanzanian shillings was equivalent to about 197.6 US dollars.
"Did you get a discharge?" I asked.
"No, we sneaked her out!" the man replied.
I started shaking internally. "If this woman dies here, I would be in serious trouble!" I thought. The police might arrest me, and I could end up being beaten! I knew the media would sensationalize the story, distorting the facts. My colleagues in the alternative medicine field would face derogatory scrutiny. As the story spread, the magistrate might even refuse to grant me bail. Essentially, I would be condemned and sentenced before any trial!
The world is not fair. All hospitals have a building dedicated to housing the dead, called a mortuary or morgue. Yet, no one questions the deaths that occur there. It seems dying in a hospital is considered a right!
I decided to get rid of the people in front of me quickly. Although I had never treated a kidney patient before, I had an idea of how to approach the situation from an alternative medicine perspective. I retrieved four packets of a product we call Haiiba Timam Tea. The four packets would be enough for one month. Among other benefits, this tea is excellent for stimulating urination, which is crucial because kidney patients often struggle to pass urine due to their kidneys' inability to filter blood.
I also knew that kidney patients typically require an alkaline diet because kidney disease is often caused by excessive acidity in the body. I wrote a prescription for dietary items they would need and handed it to Rehema's brother. Once they left, I sighed in relief. If she died out there, no one could pin it on me, I reassured myself.
Do you believe in God? I hope you do, because God is truly great and can correct any situation. Three weeks from that day, Rehema's brother called. My heart skipped a beat; I braced myself for bad news, assuming he was calling to tell me she had died. Surprise! Instead, in an excited voice, he told me that Rehema was healed and wanted to return to the village. I was dumbfounded! Rehema was healed? I could hardly believe my ears. But then I remembered God and His unlimited power. We will all die and return to dust, but one day, God will resurrect us. Surely, the one who can resurrect us from mere dust can heal a kidney, right?
I told her brother to thank God for Rehema's healing. This incident happened seven years ago, and to this day, Rehema remains free of any kidney problems. Since then, I've had the opportunity to treat a few more kidney cases, and I repeated the same approach I used with Rehema. It worked!
Last year, out of the blue, Rehema called me and said she had a small gift for me. She insisted I accept it, even though it was modest, as it was all she could afford. I told her not to worry. A few minutes later, I received a notification on my mobile phone — it was a transfer of 5,000 Tanzanian shillings. At last year's exchange rate, that was equivalent to about 2.30 US dollars. It was indeed a small amount, but just imagine the enormity of the heart that gave it.
Here is the program I used to heal Rehema. With a small investment you can access it Here for your own use.