11/11/2025
πΏ ππππ₯ππππ’π¨π§π¬ ππ«π¨π¦ π πππ©π‘π«π¨π₯π¨π π’π¬π
Last week, I saw two patients who reminded me why we do what we do; both as nephrologists and as Oak Tree.
The first was ππ³. ππ»πΆπ³πͺ (not his real name), who received a kidney transplant eight years ago.
When he first came to our office, our transplant program had just begun. He had massive ascites, was severely malnourished, and on dialysis. Frankly, I told him he was a poor candidate and walked him and his wife through the serious risks of transplantation.
But his wifeβs determination was unshakable. They went through the full workup β including screening for active TB β and, against the odds, he made it.
Eight years later, heβs thriving. Farming. Smiling. Living. A transformed man.
The second was ππ³π΄. ππ’ππ’πͺπ¬π’ (not her real name), an elderly woman we started on dialysis over five years ago for diabetic and hypertensive kidney disease.
Elderly patients on dialysis face steep odds; and she travels over 100 km twice every week for treatment. Yet, she remains steadfast. Her journey is a quiet testimony to courage and resilience.
Looking back, itβs humbling to see how far our healthcare system has come. I give credit to the Government of Kenya β particularly during the UhuRuto era β for expanding NHIF to cover dialysis and transplantation. It was a game-changer. Costly, yes, but for the lives saved, money is no object.
Today, under SHA, we continue to walk with patients through the challenges of kidney disease. There are still teething problems, yes, but I remain hopeful. Hopeful for progress. Hopeful for new frontiers. Hopeful for every life that gets a second chance.
Because in the end, thatβs what itβs all about β restoring life, one kidney at a time.
