Last week the National Health Insurance Fund was in the news for all the wrong reasons, as usual. The fund published the draft National Health Insurance Fund (Contributions) Regulations, 2022. These are awaiting approval by the National Assembly.
I heard it said in the news that the fund will conduct public participation starting this week. Since I won’t get to sit in those forums, I’ll give my views on a national newspaper and cross my fingers and hope NHIF/MPs see them (though of how much help the MPs will be remains to be seen).
Here goes.
I object to paying a shilling more to the NHIF than what I’m already paying. My objection is informed by a number of issues. One, is I rarely use NHIF as my employer provides medical cover. Two, Kenya is a grossly corrupt country. For all we know, my money doesn’t go towards helping some unfortunate member of society but lining some greedy people’s pockets.
Three, is the cost of living has risen drastically. As it is, after I’ve paid all my bills, there’s barely enough left for myself. I want to save more than I am currently but the government seems determined to keep me from doing that, what with all the taxes and now NHIF.
Four, is an experience I had at a private hospital in Westlands. I’d been experiencing some pain and finally decided to make some time to see a doctor. I’d been to this hospital before to treat a different condition and liked the reception. Needless to say, it was my first choice when I decided to have the pain checked out.
So I get to the waiting area, sit in the nice chairs in the softly lit room and wait my turn. When that turn came, I was informed that ‘sorry but we have suspended the account of that particular insurance provider’. I turned to leave, wondering which other hospital I should visit.
When I was almost at the door I remembered I had my NHIF card and had indicated that particular hospital as my preferred provider. I went back and asked if I could use that card instead and was directed to a different floor.
The first thing that hit me when I got off the lift was the harsh lighting and the fact that the room was freezing. The guys at the reception were yelling at the patients, you know, like the public hospital workers. Never mind that there were barely a dozen people in that small room. We can excuse the public hospital ones—they deal with hordes of people under very difficult circumstances.
But, the most shocking thing was how the doctor handled me. After I’d described how I was feeling, she blurted out ‘that’s ****. It has no cure. I can only advise you to drink bone soup’. I pressed her further but she dismissed me and prescribed some cream. Frankly, the Mayo clinic website was more informative.
I’m sure people suffering from life-threatening illnesses who depend on private hospitals will have a different story to tell, but that was my experience. You can therefore imagine my shock when I read that private hospitals receive the bulk of claims made to NHIF.
It got me thinking about the recent launch of universal health coverage and how lightly government takes our lives. To me, the time to launch UHC was when counties were forced to take and pay for machines they had no capacity for using under the criminal enterprise that was the Sh63 billion Managed Equipment Services.
We are taxed so much with so little to show for it: We have to jump over sewage to get to work and home, deal with a crude public transport system, we only receive water once a week—and brown water for that matter. The list is endless. Add to that the exploitation at every turn. This country and its government are a joke.
So, no, NHIF. I object to your taking more money from me. I'd rather you leave it to me to invest and make more from it so that should I ever fall seriously ill, I can go to India for treatment.
