Vaccination is about money… and nothing else
I had had an argument with a colleague over the validity of yellow fever vaccinations, where I insisted that it was a ten-year thing, while the colleague swore that it was a lifetime thing. We would put argument to the test when she produced her yellow booklet while I did mine. And as sure as global warming, her vaccination was for life, while mine was for 10-years – same vaccinations, and even a similar vaccine batch!
That would mark the start of my troubles. I usually like to have that YF vaccination upto date just in case of a travel, especially to our stubborn neighbours in the name of TZ and ET. Those two can even deport you on the next available plane/vessel if you do not have or have a faulty YF vaccination certificate. Why can’t they be like our good neighbor, UG, where you just match in even with your Kenyan ID with no questions asked?
Anyway, I finally I decided to validate the expired vaccination. I wanted that time limit cancelled and a new ‘forever’ limit added. I had read the WHO website on vaccinations and they had said as much, that YF vaccination is forever and there is no booster or repeat vaccination necessary. You get it once; you are done with it.
I visited a vaccination centre at Adams Arcade to get the extension done on Tuesday, August 30, 2022.
“I have come to extend an expired yellow fever,” I told the receptionist, showing the yellow booklet and pointing to the ’10-year’ wordings indicated next to the 2011 date stamp. Three or four people sat at the waiting area just next to the reception, on this clinic that had been converted from a one-storey residential quarters.
“Did you get it here?”
“No, Aga Khan, Parklands”
“We only deal with our own vaccinations”
“So?”
I was directed to Parklands where that batch originated. I took a taxi and was at Parklands in about 20-minutes. We conversed with the cab driver briefly about the ongoing supreme court battle over the challenge of the presidential election results. We both agreed that the dueling sides should have this matter won at this round. A second round would be a bigger quagmire with no guarantees to either side.
I reached Parklands around one-thirty. The vaccination centre was just next to Mediheal hospital ten years ago. Now the place was completed changed, with a new imposing brick building and an equally impossible gate and pedestrian access.
“I have come for vaccination,” I told the sentry.
“Go across,” she pointed to the main hospital across the road.
“But I was vaccinated here?”
“Sorry, this is now the medical school”
I crossed the road reluctantly. I was sure that there was just something that was not right, but I could not put a finger to it. I was soon at the reception desk opposite the road.
“Where is the vaccination centre?”
“It was closed”
“So?”
“So you have to get the vaccination elsewhere”
“But I need an extension?”
“Sorry, we closed”
What a good Tuesday I was having! I soon called back the very same taxi that had dropped me and asked him to take me back to Adams. He was still around and he agreed to take me back. I was back to the same Adams vaccination centre hardly an hour since I was there last. I found a new person at the reception. I explained to him that I had come to have the YF vaccination extended to lifetime.
“Were you vaccinated here?”
For crying out loud! I have been through this already!
“No,” I handed him the booklet to read for himself.
He proceeded to fill in some details from the booklet onto their computer systems and told me to sit and wait. He did not tell me as to what was to happen next. I even assumed that he was just confirming that I could get the extension, until….
“Go upstairs, door to the left.”
What for? I thought of asking, but did not.
I matched upstairs. I already know the profile of such quarters since my regular dental provider also took up the next quarters and I have been up such stairs in that side of the building many times. I found two ladies and a gentleman seated at the head of the table, in this once bedroom of the quarters. I took the seat opposite.
“We can only renew our own vaccinations,” the gent in white overcoat started.
“But I was vaccinated already!”
“Yes, but we did not issue that batch, so we cannot confirm”
“But the booklet already says that I got that vaccination!?”
“We can only renew our own, sorry”
“So what are my options?”
“Are you ready to pay?”
Soon one of the ladies, also in white overcoat approached my sitting position with a small stainless steel medical dish. I could see in it a small vial and about an inch-long needle affixed to an equally small syringe.
“Roll up your left sleeve,” she instructed. I did.
She made a kind-of-pinch on the top part of my arm and proceeded to prick up and inject.
“Go can go and pay downstairs,” the gent handed me a small paper on which he had scribbled on something that I did not understand, nor care. I soon paid some KShs.4,200 by MPESA and was back to the first floor with the receipt.
I got my yellow booklet and confirmed that I had a second entry of yellow fever vaccination with a ‘lifetime’ time stamp.
This was the most unnecessary vaccination that I have ever had in life, but a rubberstamp can be costly, trust me. I was so absent minded over this whole episode that I even failed to give much thought of the eatery where I went subsequently at the same Adams centre. The upstairs sitting area had a ‘mind your head’ warning that turned out to be the only true one that I have ever seen. The concrete ceiling was so low that I had to walk while bending down low to get to my sitting area. I could easily touch the ceiling even from my seating position. Then the sitting stools were toddler size – maybe due to the low ceiling? How did this place even pass a building inspection?
WWB, the Coach, Nairobi, Kenya, Sept. 1, 2022
