Last week I found myself consoling an honest young lady whose investment had gone down the drain of superstition.

Employed in the government last year, she chose to invest in agriculture to supplement her income instead of dabbling in corruption like many do. She started a small piggery in the mid-west region of Bunyoro.  

Its centrepiece was a female pig of a new breed called Size 24 because it has 24 teats – 12 on each side – and can produce as many piglets.

My friend’s Size 24 was pregnant when it developed a slight illness. Her auntie, who was managing the piggery while the niece worked in Kampala, took the sick pig to a witchdoctor – where it died.

Such things still happen in our society where the majority are still deeply superstitious. It is not surprising therefore that Ugandans of all levels are now arguing themselves hoarse about a machine called Cobalt 60 that has been mismanaged by the Cancer Institute at the National Referral Hospital of Mulago in Kampala, without addressing the actual problem.

The arguments in the public domain, on social media and in parliament revolve around the monies involved and miss the real issue – that superstitious societies tend to expect value out of no effort.

The dead machine, a donation made many years ago, was supposed to be serviced regularly, but our superstitious managers refused to do this, expecting it to continue working miraculously. 

International Atomic Energy Council inspectors kept checking and pointing out the radiation leaks that were affecting patients and staff adversely, but our managers didn’t budge.

Fortunately, it finally broke down completely recently, saving more victims from exposure.

Now our MPs, civil society and the public are in a continuous uproar as managers of the health sector trot out unconvincing explanations and quote outrageous sums required to replace the machine.

People have conducted Internet searches, found the figures being quoted ridiculously high and are calling for fundraisers, but they are all missing the point.

The point is Uganda’s ability to manage matters of radioactivity. My strong suspicion is that Ugandan institutions will not in the circumstances be licensed to handle nuclear medical equipment again and that we are not being told the truth.

For if there is an international outfit that has a firm grip on its sector, it is the International Atomic Energy Agency. Even the most rebellious governments from Iran through Iraq to North Korea have to submit to atomic energy regulation.

With our level of confusion, it would be interesting to hear our health managers report about their current relations with the relevant international agencies that monitor and regulate the movement of radioactive materials.

Our own legislators whose parents still take their sick livestock to witchdoctors need to rise above superstition and audit the management of nuclear medicine facilities and stocks.

For now, we shall take the 16,600 patients who will miss out on the Aga Khan Health Services offer to treat 400 of our 17,000 cancer patients in Nairobi, to die in witchdoctors’ shrines.

Joachim Buwembo is a social and political commentator based in Kampala. E-mail: [email protected]