Matt Cochrane in Zimbabwe
We went back to the clinic in Kwekwe this morning. The tent that we set up yesterday was now occupied by eight of the more severe cases.
In contrast to yesterday's sense of pandemonium, this morning felt calm. I spoke to Nyengera Caston, the head nurse. "I'm very pleased with your (the Red Cross Red Crescent's) contributions," he told me. "Without your help it (the situation in the clinic) would have got totally out of control."
Now that he had a moment, I asked him how this latest outbreak had unfolded. Last week, he explained, a woman had arrived. She was dehydrated and exhausted and she collapsed at the door of the clinic. That was the first case. The next day, the patients flowed in all of them from the nearby mining town of Tiger Reef.
"We could only do so little," Nyengera said. "We didn't have beds, medication or staff." (Nyengara was leading a team of three nurses that was trying to help more than 130 cases.)
But now, he and his team feel that the situation is under control. The Red Cross Red Crescent tent, medication, latrines and technical expertise has helped them get on top of it.
That seems to be the nature of this outbreak now. One area will flare up, and the Red Cross Red Crescent will respond, bringing in resources and experience. But no sooner are the local health staff able to breathe a sigh of relief, reports of another outbreak arrive. And the Red Cross Red Crescent team packs up, and heads off to meet this next challenge.
"I feel it's like chasing a ghost," says Jens Gloersen, the head of the Norwegian Red Cross' basic health care team.
As we are leaving the clinic, two bodies are carried out to a truck. There's still a long, long way to go.