Clinic

They kept order in the first-come-first-serve waiting room by leaving it up to the patients waiting there. 
The patients patiently filled the room, changing concrete bench for vacated concrete bench, moving closer to the destination.  And more people came.  There were continually 20 or so sick persons with a parent or family member inside the concrete room, and more people hanging around the motorcycles outside.
The sickest woman there waited outside until she was called - you could see pain in the eyes of everyone watching her "walk" to the examination room with the support of two or three men.  
A nurse came out and tested each patient for malaria, weighed them on the scales, and checked for temperature (higher than 37?  Adama's was 40...)  All this happened right in front of everyone there (imagine that!)
There were several babies and as many children.  They sat quietly or slept.  When the nurse drew blood for the malaria test, mostly they were still quiet - the one that wasn't was asked by his father - if I understood right - if he was a girl? 
The entire hospital was open-air, and about as dusty as outside. Their sanitation included wearing white coats, changing plastic gloves frequently, using an alcohol wipe where they needed to prick a finger... and throwing the numerous plastic packages from injections and test kits in a pile against the wall.  The place had no noticeable smells of cleaner, ointment, or medicine. 
Our turn in the examination room: they hand wrote patient information and symptoms in a little yellow book (each patient takes this with him) and stamped it with the blue-inked hospital stamp.  The doctor did some further examining and thinking, then prescribed medicines. 
We went next door to the second of three buildings in the hospital compound - none of them large - where we could  buy half of the medicines.  One we took directly back to the doctor, who injected a large shot into Adama's arm. 
We were there for Adama's bout of fatigue (similar to what I had a month ago).  Unfortunately, I think watching that red medicine ready to fill his arm triggered a head- and stomach-ache that lead to more fatigue for me as well. 
Thank God, that was last Monday night, and we are feeling much better now! 

I don't have pictures of that hospital visit, but I do have one of Adama' s mother in her office at the maternity hospital.  She is looking over record books, the same kind they used at the infirmary clinic.  The biggest difference between the infirmary and the maternity hospital was the amount of people.  In this picture, Mouonton showed me that they had 37 births for the month of September in the district of Belleville (new section of Bobo Dioulasso).  Despite this significant number, no one showed up during the hour that I was there with her.