CLINIC FOR THE POOR

Ijeoma broke down, her tears flowing like a river as she spoke from the heart. Why did this have to happen? I blame the system, I blame the hospitals that turned us away, and I blame myself for not being able to do more for my mum. She isgone, and I am left wondering who is going to take care of me and my siblings now. Who is going to guide me, advise me, and love me like she did?

I think there should be a place, a clinic where people like us can get the care we need, without having to choose between food and medicine. A place where everyone's treated with dignity, regardless of their wallet. A place where patients can find comfort, support, and quality care.

The wealthy folks, they flaunt their riches, buying fancy cars and houses, but what if they used some of that to help people like us? What if they supported a clinic that cares for the poor? It would make a real difference, showing they care about more than just themselves and their own.

If only such a place existed, my mum might still be here today. It is a harsh reality, but it is one we need to face. We need compassion, we need support, and we need it now.

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