"You have aroused their curiosity." Professor Jacob grinned at him. He wanted to leave early but now he was forced to answer some questions.
"Okay class, the PS will only take three questions in the interest of time." He knew his class well, if he didn't specify; the poor man would be swamped with questions.
"You," PS Dunga Funtula pointed at a lady in the front row with her hand up. "Your name and question please."
She stood up before going ahead to present her question. "My name is Harriet Sahum, and this is my question. The seven WCs per hour, are they for twenty-four hours or the hours one is on duty?"
"Good question. If there's no emergency in that hospital, you will be on duty for twelve hours each day. That's eighty-four WCs per day. I have to say this is a very fair price." He answered her.
The standard wage per hour in the East African Federation was two WCs, professionals like lawyers and doctors normally charged around four to five WCs per hour. So, these seven WCs being paid to medical students were more than generous.
Each World Credit (WC) was equivalent to twelve US Dollars.
Bosco Masaba was already counting the hundreds of WCs he could pocket at the end of the five days posting. However, he was not sure about how much was going to be paid for transport, accommodation, feeding, and per diem. He decided to raise his hand to ask, he hoped the rate was also generous.
"You," the PS chose someone else.
Bosco felt bad, now there was only one question left, he hoped the chosen fellow would ask a sensible question.
"Thank you, Mr. Dunga, I am Kasim Odinga. You have told us about the daily rate, I request that you enlighten us about the figures for transport, feeding, accommodation, and per diem." Kasim Odinga asked what Bosco Masaba and others were anxious to know.
'Thank you, Odinga. You are our man.'
"Noted, let me take the last question and then answer all of them at once. You at the window." PS Dunga Funtula pointed at Bosco Masaba whose hand was no longer up.
"Me?" He asked in shock; his initial question had been asked by Kasim Odinga and as such he was left with nothing.
"Yes, I mean you." The PS confirmed it was him. He wanted to say that his question had been answered but remembered something.
He stood up to present his question. "Mr. Dunga, we are honored to have you in our midst, I and my colleagues will always treasure this day when you graced us with your presence. I am called, Bosco Masaba, pronounced Mas Aba." He didn't ask the question straight away; he said some rich words to create an impression.
"I want to know the criteria which was used in posting us to the different hospitals." After asking he sat down to wait for the answer.
"Alright, those are good questions. To answer the second question regarding transport, feeding, accommodation, and per diem. Transport fee varies depending on where one has been posted. For example, someone who has been posted to the border with Malawi will get the equivalent of a two-way train ticket with some little change while those posted within the capital city area will also get their transport equivalent. If you choose to use a plane, that's at your personal cost.
Concerning accommodation, feeding, and per diem. You are provided with a uniform fee of forty WCs per day spent. You can calculate to get the overall sum for the five days. For those of you who are familiar with the ministry rates, you will find that these rates are several times above the normal rates. The level of risk was considered.
"Hazard wage!" Someone at the back shouted. None of the students laughed, they knew he was right. This money was good enough for them as third-year medical students, but there was no underscoring the risks.
PS Dunga Funtula ignored the hazard wage statement and went on to answer the remaining question.
"Concerning the criteria for choosing the hospital where each one of you is posted. The ministry coordinated with your department to allocate each medical student based on the need. Fairness was taken into consideration, so you should not be worried about nepotism or some underhanded tricks.
"I will now take my leave… Professor Jacob is going to share the list. Once again, thank you for your time." PS Dunga Funtula had adequately answered the class's questions. The medical students stood up and clapped in appreciation.
"Alright," Professor Jacob Bata spoke up once the PS had exited the lecture hall. "It's a lengthy list, should I read it or email it?" He asked.
"Email it." The class answered in unison.
"Okay, give me a minute as I send it to the whole class." Said the professor as he opened his tablet to share the list with them. He had the class email list, so it was easy compared to him spending half an hour or more reading names and their postings.
Before even a minute was done, they received an email notification of a new email dropping in their mailbox with the subject being, 'EMERGENCY POSTING'.
'Oh God, I beseech You, may I have not been posted to the coast.' He prayed in his heart. He believed that there was going to be a high chance of a tsunami wave should the asteriod or its larger fragments land in the ocean.
Bosco Masaba did not hesitate to open the email. Once it was opened, he saw that the hospitals were arranged in alphabetical order, with the names attached on the side. He began searching for his name from the top of the list to the bottom. Midway, he found his name.
It said that he was posted to Mutukula Hospital and shelter.
Mutukula Hospital was located on the border between the states of Uganda and Tanzania, close to river Kagera. It was a historical and cultural place. Half a century back, it was the site of a brutal war between the forces of the Ugandan dictator Idi Amin Dada and Tanzanian forces.
"Bosco!" He saw the beautiful Monica Namatovu leave her seat and rush to where he was.
"Yes, Monica." He politely answered her. Her presence next to him was drawing too much attention towards them from the class. Some people may even misinterpret that they were seeing each other.
Ordinary this could not be a problem, but the issue was that he was already in a relationship with a sensitive girl. Such rumors could impact her negatively, so he tried not to arouse any suspicion.
"Have you seen?" She asked him.
"Seen what?" Her question confused him. She shook her head in disappointment, it was not the answer she wanted to hear.
"The list, you and I have been posted in the same hospital." She explained what she meant.
"What!" He had not paid attention to the other names since he was looking for his name. He went back to the list to examine properly whether what she said was the truth.
He saw it. Below his name, was hers; Monica Namatovu.
"What a coincidence," was all he managed to say. This came as a surprise to him but also raised a question on how the allocation was done.
'How come the two Ugandans in the class had been posted to the same hospital? Was the selection based on nationality?' He wondered.
Before he finished digesting this revelation, she suggested. "Since we are going to the same hospital, I was of the view that we leave together."
"When do you plan to set off?" She asked him.
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