By Manuka Wijesinghe –
Bill Gates versus Kaliamman: The meaning of ‘Health’ and well being
I was pondering about the medical teleology, pining for the days of the General Practitioner who treated folks from their residences, knew the family history and took responsibility for a patient’s long-term health, rather than so called ‘experts’ and ‘specialists’ who focus narrowly on a particular disease, rather than the overall health of a patient. Today, despite our affluence, we had no health and there was no sense of responsibility in the system where patients are sent from pillar to post for numerous tests by different specialists who focus narrowly and treat specific symptoms.
My mind travelled down memory lane and I remembered a man I had known for long, a poor man, a trishaw driver whose existence had been ruined by the first Covid lockdown. Deprived of an income he had been forced take a loan from a loan sharks. The stress of repayment had caused a spike in his blood sugar which he neglected due to daily duress. It was topped by an ulcer on his foot that refused to heal. Since national hospitals were reduced to Covid-19 austerity, the man went to some dubious place to treat his wound. It resulted in the aggravation which led to the eventual amputation of three toes leaving a virile man in his mid-forties, a cripple.
But, his malady did not end there.
Due to breathing difficulty his wife took him to the national hospital. She had to bear his weight for due to Covid austerities the National hospital had safe-kept its wheel chair for fear of contagiousness and a man who could neither breathe nor walk had not been given a wheel chair. Covid-19 collateral damage on display! Finally, having crawled to the clinic, the gravity of his condition had compelled the doctor- in- charge to ward him. But beds were unavailable and he was left outside the ward. It was when his condition worsened that his wife called me, crying.
There was nothing much I could do, but those of our social class always did better. So, I called a friend who knew the right persons. A few hours later he called me back saying that my trishaw driver was suffering heart failure. ‘But how?’ I asked him. My friend could not answer my question, but he assured me, ‘Don’t worry, he is in the national hospital, he will get the best treatment’
I gave that assurance to the man’s wife and believed in the compassion and care of the medical profession. Some days later the wife called me again. Her sobs were louder. ‘When I took him he could not breathe, now he has stopped eating too.’
Then I called another friend. He said to check the name of the ward doctor. I did. I called my friend back and gave the name. He knew the doctor. Then he called back. ‘He has been taken to the ICU. His heart is failing, tell the family it is fifty-fifty’
‘How?’ I asked.
‘These things happen.’
‘Could he have got a sepsis through the wound?’
‘Could be or he may have had other issues.’
He did not but I could not believe that a man was lying in a hospital ward, unable to breathe, his blood full of bacteria and they had done nothing. The matter of the heart could have easily been avoided. Something like this could have happened in a private home, but it should NOT have happened in a hospital. ‘Tell his family to be prepared for the worst,’ my friend said.
I did not say that, instead I told the wife the standard lie. ‘He is getting the best of treatment, there is nothing we can do, just pray.’
‘That is what I am doing madam,’ the woman said, with strange fortitude.
Her fortitude impressed me. Since her husband’s malady, this demure woman had carried him to hospital every other day for his wound to be dressed. Not only does the national hospital not supply wheel chairs, but it lacks basic essentials too. It has no gauze, no cotton wool, no antiseptic lotions no disinfectants. Even if they had, it was not used on patients. This woman had no income since the sole breadwinner was indisposed. She was forced to beg for alms, not to feed her family, but to purchase the necessary medical paraphernalia from private pharmacies to dress her husband’s wounds in the national hospital.
I did not hear from her for long, thereafter. After a few months I called her, ‘How is he?’ I asked her.
‘A bit better,’ she said.
‘Shall I come and see him?’ I asked.
‘He is not in our home madam, but in his sisters and they may not like it’
‘Why is he not in your home?’
‘We have a squatting toilet and it is difficult for him to use it.’
In my apathy I did not even bother to understand the logic of his current condition. He had lost three toes, he had a heart insufficiency, what was the connection to the squatting toilet? I did not bother to think till she called me again. ‘What is it now?’ I asked her. I was getting tired.
‘He needs an operation and now two times I brought him. He starved all day because of the operation and in the evening they dismissed him saying they cannot do the operation today. This has happened two times already, madam.’
‘First they said ‘Corona’, this time they gave no reason’
I then called my friend again. He inquired and called me again. ‘They can’t operate him for his sugar is too high. They released him till his sugar goes down.’
‘What are they doing for his sugar to go down?’
‘They have sent him home. He can get another appointment when the sugar is better.’
And so the cat and mouse game continued. The hospital and its staff and its medical doctor played blind man’s buff with human malady, telling them to come, telling them to go, telling them one day was inoperable due to Corona and the other day for another reason. And all the while they could not even supply a single wheel chair to a cripple or reduce his blood sugar.
I called the lady again and parroted what I heard. ‘Manage his diet.’ But I did not tell her how to manage it. I did not know. I expected a poor uneducated woman to educate herself when the medical establishment had failed her.
A few weeks later I called to check on the sugar.
‘The sugar is normal now madam,’ she said.
‘How did you manage it?’
Then, this simple woman rattled off a list of traditional edibles of which I had not even heard. The entire medical establishment had not managed to lower the man’s sugar or even advise him on what he should do. All they could do was to provide pills, but this poor woman had, through her own intelligence, local knowledge, and simple common sense, talking to people of her class, to villagers and servants, controlled her husband’s sugar.
‘Now the operation? Will it be necessary?’
‘Yes madam, then he will not pant, they said’
‘So, they will operate on the heart?’
‘NO madam, the leg.’
‘But I thought he had an issue with the heart.’
‘His heart is alright madam.’
‘What is wrong with the leg?’
‘It is like rock and swollen and they say it is causing the breathing difficulty. Also, a few days back he passed blood instead of urine and I took him to the clinic again and the doctor gave him medicine and now it is better’
Now, the kidneys were becoming affected too. I knew that western drugs could not revert him to health and would only worsen his diseases before it eventually killed him. I had to do something.
‘Can you come to me with his reports this evening’, I told her.
Looking at his report I saw an elaborate diagram of a leg and crosses in differ parts. I realized he had a deep vein thrombosis and if it got lodged in the lung or the brain, death was imminent. He was a living time bomb. I called my friend again to ask what I could do. My friend was not a doctor, but an insider to the commercial aspect of the medical trade.
‘Chanel his doctor privately. See if you can do it in a private hospital and if not, ask him if you can hurry his operation. With people like you they are more responsive.’
People like me. What was I? I spoke English with a slight foreign accent, I was from a home in Colombo, I was not bad looking and I reeked of having lived and studied abroad. I was the privileged class so I had the greater right to health and more clout to confront a doctor.
Finally, I did as he said. I paid 3000 rupees and channelled the doctor. My driver drove us to the Nawaloka entrance and we immediately surrounded by an army of wheel chairs porters, competing to direct by trishaw driver to the channelling room.
Did Corona not infect wheel chairs in private hospitals? The inequality of our market economy struck me hard. Since JRJ’s ascent to power we had inequality in every essential service. It was the poor who always suffered. The rich did not care.
After waiting for a while, we were called in. ‘At last,’ I said. The man’s wife smiled and said, ‘this is nothing madam. In national hospitals it lasts a whole day’. Indeed, I should have known, the poor had more time than the rich.
The doctor came, surrounded by a bevy of nurses. The nurses asked me for something. ‘Ko?’ ‘ko what?’, I said, handing his file. But that was not what they wanted, they wanted my purchases to dress his wound. I was cross and said, ‘don’t you people have these things?’ Without a word they were supplied. What generosity! Then she undid the bandages and I was exposed to a festering piece of pink flesh which had once been a foot.
Then the surgeon strutted to my trishaw driver, stretched out his tweezers and pulled out bits of festered yellow, dabbed and sprayed and tied the foot up in neat surgical attire. Then he turned to go. It had not even taken five minutes and it had cost me 3000 rupees. But, I had not got any answers, it was now or never. I stopped the doctor in mid track and said, ‘he has been called twice for operation and twice sent home’.
‘Is that so?’ he asked the driver.
‘Yes doctor,’ the man said meekly.
The doctor then smiled at me and said, ‘don’t worry he will be operated one day’.
‘What do you mean one day’, I asked, ‘he is a young man, he has a life to lead and he has breathing problems.’
‘Oh, that is nothing to do with the leg it is heart matter, take him to a cardiologist.’
Then, gathering the privileges of my English speaking Colombo social guts, I confronted him. ‘How do you treat your patients? Don’t you feel you are treating them like objects in a spare parts shop? How will a poor uneducated man like him know to whom he has to go? One day you say heart, one day it is the leg, on the third day it is kidneys on the fourth day it is diabetes….what kind of savagery do you do with the under privileged diseased who go to national hospitals?’
The doctor looked at me most earnestly and said, ‘you are right, those days doctors were better. Those day one doctor could treat the whole patient, today we can’t do so, we only treat parts.’
Then, he was gone and a bill for Rs.1900 Rupees, pressed into my hand. For that amount I could have bought a whole bale of gauze! I left. The doctor’s words running in my mind. His confession was an example of the malaise of the medical profession. Of the WHO. Of the world.
In the eagerness for vaccination profit had the Covid-19 military lost sight of the big picture, the greater reality of human life? It was not the avoidance of death that had value, but health and well-being of humans.
Was it not obvious to all that the most Covid-19 deaths were in first world advanced nations, which have had a long history of prescribed commercial drugs through National Health care systems, and annual flu shots.
Was the history of the welfare state and National Health Services not a post-world war institution? A time when people were abysmally poor but war companies were incredibly rich and needed new avenues for the continuance of profit? Was it not the same war industry that had renamed itself into the pharmaceutical company?
We are not developing. We are developed. A trishaw driver’s wife was able to reduce blood sugar which the medical establishment could not. Do we need a jab for Covid-19? Do we not have enough knowledge and medical tradition to sort out our own maladies? I raged at our medical establishment; whores of the western pharmaceutical industry. I pulled out a book from my hand bag and flipped through it. Its name was ‘Our Malady’. ‘Our malady is physical illness and the political evil that surrounds it. We are ill in a way that costs us freedom, and unfree in a way that costs us health. Our politics are too much about the curse of pain and too little about the blessings of Liberty’.
It was for the blessing of Liberty and not for health we were taking a Jab, whose long term impacts are unknown. Had we all dared to protest, the collective ‘demos’, the WHO could not have pulled this gimmick. But we complied. We were all filled with a greater avarice of consumerism and too lazy to think. My rage gradually abating, I thought of ways to regain this trishaw driver’s health.
It was not that I did not know traditional healers but I was afraid. His case was serious and I needed one who would understand his malaise in western medical terms. He was not my father, he was not my husband, I could not afford to make a mistake. But, to whom can I take him? Friends I called just laughed saying, ‘are you mad, you want to take him to those quacks, can’t you remember Dhammika Bandara?’
Of course I knew Dhammika Bandara, who did not? ‘There is nothing wrong with Dhammika Bandara’, I said.
‘What nonsense, they who took his concoction all got Corona.’
That was not true. Those who drank his concoction did not get Corona, they were PCR positive. The meaning of PCR positive is not an indication of a disease but the knowledge that the immune system had updated itself. Dhammika’s pani (honey) has been an immune booster. If doctors studied the immune system, they would have understood it. But, why had his endeavour been made into a common TV comedy, a fiasco? A final nail on the coffin of traditional medicine?
I began to understand the role Derana TV played in creating the narrative of Dhammika and then destroying it. It was for the advantage of Derana’s chairman; that kind of Sinhala Buddhist businessmen created by JR Jayewardene’s government through the plunder of the Tamil business community, who had master minded it. Another party this time but the business tactics were the same. Then, it was Tamils, today, it is Muslims who got Covid-19 and suffered most. Why did he bother? Was it because he was a primary importer of Covid paraphernalia, being the chairman of George Stuart: the importer of pharmaceutical drugs and Covid testing equipment? The Sri Lanka govt. debt trapped to the hilt spend 80 LKR million a day on PCR testing for a virus milder than seasonal flu in Sri Lanka on the instructions of WHO, while essential drugs are in short supply and govt. hospitals unable to provide dressings for wounds!
Destroying the image of traditional medicine was to his advantage. Secondly, being responsible for the marketing of the younger Rajapaksa sibling to be the nation’s technocratic president, given mounting pressure on the regime Derana provided a distraction. Thus, killing many birds with one stone Derana’s chairman reaped the profit of disgracing OUR traditional medicine. Dhammika was just a poor fool caught in a spider’s web of business interest. A Ferret.
I called a friend to check into Dhammika’s pani. I was interested in the recipe. But my friend laughed and said, ‘oh that fellow was a rogue. Had he shut his mouth it would have been okay but he had to say his prescription was from Kaliamma.’
What is wrong with Kaliamma? Is she a lesser Goddess to the omniscient techno-deity, Bill Gates invented by global media during the Covid-19 panicdemic? Kaliamma, a Hindu Goddess worshiped by many Buddhists as well in South Asia, is associated with the defeat of evil forces. She provides a remedy, cure and the Shakti or power including psychological and cosmic energy to heal. Bill Gate’s Big Data gathering, genetic mapping and biometrics of seeds and peoples project, takes our local, indigenous and archaic knowledge systems like Ayuvedic knowledge, fragments and cannibalizes them, patents it and resells it back to us. The algorithm rules, through information theft and cannibalization of local knowledge!’ If we cannot pay, like the Indian farmers, we have the option of suicide….
A lesser goddess to Neil Ferguson? Why are we so eager to believe western ‘experts’ and ridicule our own local knowledge systems? Do we still believe God is a white man, or his brown sahib like Tedros? Do we still think his angels sit in the WHO? If we go to Kaliamma during duress and she helps us, why was her appearance to Dhammika so ridiculed?
Neil Ferguson said a half a billion people will die. He may be right, but it will not be from the Corona virus, it will be from vaccinations and the poverty induced by Covid-19 lockdowns recommended by WHO. Why are we so confident of the moral superiority of the west?
It was Tedros Adhanom, who, during his tenure as health minister in Ethiopia, opened the doors for the Gates and Buffet Foundation and was their nominee for the post of the Director General of the World Health Organization and was appointed as its chief although the Ethiopian diaspora stood in front of the United Nations officers in protest. His human rights track record was abysmal. He should have been tried for genocide, instead he was elected as the Director General of the WHO.
This massive vaccine initiative is not a governmental initiative but a non-governmental initiative.
Gavi’s actions which WHO authorizes is an extension of the Euro-American Empire – colonialism all over again, reminiscent of the incredible barbarity of the East India company, which destroyed Indian industry and knowledge systems, like its old textile industries, rendering artisans and weavers into beggars which heralded the rampant destruction and the pillage of India.
Likewise, with vaccines we are destroying our health. The west’s prosperity is born on India’s woes, even as India is being projected as the British Oxford vaccine manufacturer of the world for the Global South, which cannot afford Pfizer and Moderna’s fancy mRNA technology vaccines that WHO rushed to authorise.
Modi’s India seems to have forgotten that it was against Colonialism and western avarice which impoverished India that Gandhi did the salt march, burned Manchester Fabric and did Satyagraha. But, less than a century later we have forgotten Gandhi, forgotten the woe of independence and forfeited our dignity to the west again. We sacrificed our planet, now we are sacrificing our health. We were born free but everywhere we are in western chains. To stop the barbarity of the east India Company, the British government intervened. Today, there is no government to intervene. It has become the whore of western business interest, consultancy companies like the Boston Consulting Group (BCG), which has been collecting data and carrying out analytics for Govt. of Indian Covid-19 policy. In a new age of Techno-feudalism.****
in 2009, the Bill and Melinda gates foundation, under the guise of assisting in public health, vaccinated 23,000 Adi Vasi (ancient tribal) girls between 9 and 15 years of age with the HPV (Human Papilloma vaccine). Within days, several got epileptic seizures, cramps and some died. Most of the rest were rendered sterile.
Between 2000 and 2017, promising to eradicate Polio, Bill Gates took control of India’s National Advisory Board and mandated a minimum of 5 polio vaccinations to every child. The Gates Vaccine resulted in a Vaccine Caused Polio Epidemic (Acute Flaccid Myelitis) which paralyzed nearly 500,000 of those children. In 2017, even the WHO made public that the Global Polio Explosion was caused by the Vaccine strain of the Gates vaccine.
In Africa, in 2010, the Gates foundation funded an experimental malaria vaccine. It resulted in seizures and febrile convulsion to more than thousand out of the 5000 children, rendering many retarded.
In 2000 to 2002, the Gates Foundation carried out a vaccination campaign in sub Saharan Africa called ‘MenAfiVac’ against meningitis. It resulted in paralysis.
In Australia, a mandatory DPTa vaccination given to pregnant mothers by the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation caused 3000 babies to be born with a Microcephalus (retarded brain development). The Australian government lied saying it was caused by the Zika Virus.
And so, the list continues.
But, was it always the WHO’s objective, to be the executives of drug companies? The WHO was founded three years after the UNO for the purpose of Global health, in 1948, three years after the WW2. Their motto was that ‘a billion people have universal health coverage, the protection of a billion more people from health emergencies and to provide a further billion with better health and well-being.’
Today, it is trying to vaccinate 7 billion people, against a common flu, with untested vaccines. Is that not a breach on its pledge?
Billions in the developing world need improved nutrition (and not the sub quality industrial surplus of wealthy nations), it needs clean and chemical free water (but corporates giants like Coca cola are depleting natural water resources), they need sustainable farms and clean soil (instead farms and made waste through industrial farming and soil is made toxic through western agro chemical) and finally, the world needs the luxury of being free from war and persecution. Yet, it is the same western first world nations, selling arms, planting and disposing leaders, funding opposition groups, who are fuelling wars and ruining our well-being. Is that the other leg of Philanthrocapitalism?
Having ruined the planet, they are now about to ruin Health. ‘We had no diseases until the white men arrived’, Australian Aborigines elders used to say to those who listened. In the book, ‘In the year of the lord, 1943’, Alan Jacobs writes, ‘After the war, when the problem of reconstruction arose, many Christians, even the best ones said that the United Nations is an admirable institution and the way of the future. That what matters most is the producing of material goods and the prefabricated houses as a solution to everything.’
Did men forfeit virtue for material gain?
‘Has the right questions been asked? For, had the right question been asked, Christians would have realized that, while summoning armies to fight Hitler, they had ceased to pray for had they given prayer the priority perhaps the result would not have been the horrifying triumph of the Hitlerian Spirit that we now see throughout the world.
That Hitlerian spirit is the Spirit of our times – also embodied in vaccine nationalism. It was not the superiority of morals that brought Allied victory, it was the superiority of weapons. Having won, they buried faith in the bureaucratic edifice of institutions (UNO and WHO) and men were made no more culpable for individual sin. For, if he was, western Philanthropists would not be investing in vaccines but ensuring that in his own back yard, in the United States of America, a young life is worth more than the Gun, the Drugs and the Opioids that kills it. And babies born to poor black mothers will live.
Is the WHO is making the world into Auschwitz?
**** Term coined by Yanis Varoufakis. Former Finance minister of Greece.
Disease, vaccine and the forgotten history. Szanne huphreyes and Roman Bystrianyk
Year of the Lord: Alan Jacobs
Corona, facts and figures – sucharit bhakdi
Our Malady – Timothy Snyder