A chill tension hung in the conference room. Taeho stood before the medical teams dispatched from various countries.
Calmly, Taeho connected his tablet to the screen.
On the screen appeared a photograph of Ibrahim bending at the waist in a refugee camp in northern Chad, accepting a cup of water offered by a child. Released by Western media, the photograph had become an iconic image shown around the world of Ibrahim striving to mediate African conflicts.
“I’ll show you the environmental data for the Chari River basin in northern Chad.”
Several figures appeared one after another on the screen alongside a red geological map.
“In this region, there was once a uranium mine during the French colonial era, and its remnants are still contaminating the area around the Chari River.”
Taeho brought up a recent research paper on the screen and spoke clearly.
“Exposure to heavy metals alters the antigenic proteins of the Trypanosoma parasite. As a result, resistance to existing treatments increases sharply.”
A stir ran through the conference room. Several members of the medical staff exchanged glances.
“We are not fighting a simple case of sleeping sickness, but a ‘mutated parasite.’ The means to counter this parasite has existed in this land since long ago. Kigelia africana—the plant known locally as the ‘sausage tree.’”
The doctors began murmuring even louder, as if flustered.
Dr. Whitman snorted.
“You said you went to meet a marabout. Surely you’re not suggesting superstition even here?”
“This is not superstition.”
Taeho spoke firmly. Chemical structural formulas spread across the screen.
“The combination of these compounds strengthens the immune system and suppresses inflammation. More importantly, their safety has been proven.”
Dr. Laurent asked with a slightly crooked expression.
“Then why has no one used this until now?”
“The reason is simple. Because we called it superstition. But the people here knew the method. They simply did not speak in the language of science.”
“Then, Dr. Kang, are you suggesting we treat him with a remedy made in the traditional way?”
Dr. Rossi asked, looking at him with interest.
Taeho shook his head.
“I am proposing a better scientific method. A three-stage integrated treatment. First, detoxification of heavy metals through chelation. Second, immune enhancement with kigelia extract. Third, combination therapy with a low dose of the existing drug, eflornithine.”
As the atmosphere in the conference room gradually shifted toward acceptance, Dr. Whitman shouted in displeasure.
“Kigelia extract combined with low-dose eflornithine? That is absurd. You want to mix superstition with modern medicine?”
“Dr. Whitman, the antiparasitic effects of Kigelia africana have already been proven in multiple studies. In particular, its polyphenols and flavonoids show a direct inhibitory effect on trypanosomes.”
As Taeho answered every question without hesitation, another large stir swept through the conference room.
Watching Whitman’s complexion, Dr. Laurent crossed his arms and said,
“Theoretically, it may sound plausible, but…”
“I think differently. Even the WHO emphasizes the scientific verification of traditional medicine. I believe it is well worth trying.”
Dr. Chen spoke up in agreement with Taeho for the first time. He had confidence in Taeho because he had seen the treatment method Taeho proposed at Mount Sinai work with astonishing precision.
Taeho looked around at the medical staff once more and said,
“This is not a mere hypothesis. I am certain I can save President Ibrahim. Please agree to this treatment.”
But the conference room was silent. Though they thought Taeho’s opinion was theoretically correct, it was dangerous and carried responsibility, so they could not easily voice their support.
Taeho emphasized one last time.
“Most of the doctors here have more experience than I do. You all know this. You know how important a doctor’s swift decision is to a patient. Even as you hesitate, the patient is dying.”
It was true. They were all veterans who had established themselves in their respective fields, and each had experienced losing patients more than once.
Dr. Schneider made the decision first.
“I will participate in this integrated treatment.”
“I will cooperate as well.”
Dr. Rossi nodded too. At that, most of the doctors in the conference room began voicing their agreement as if a dam had burst.
“I agree as well.”
“There’s no other way now, so we have no choice but to use this as a last resort.”
“I hope it goes well.”
“I’m in favor too.”
Dr. Whitman rose from his seat with a furrowed brow. He glared at the medical staff and snapped,
“I can’t believe this. I’m disappointed that all of you would make such a decision. I will report this to WHO headquarters in Geneva immediately!”
Dr. Whitman shouted loudly. There were doctors who supported him as well—mostly WHO-affiliated doctors who had worked with Dr. Whitman in Africa for a long time.
The conference room grew noisy as the doctors argued over their opinions.
At that moment, the door opened and the president’s wife, Aminata, entered. The room fell silent in an instant.
Madam Aminata asked,
“Everyone, what is going on here?”
“Dr. Kang from Korea is insisting that we apply an unverified experimental treatment to a head of state. That is to say, he wants to experiment with the patient’s life.”
Dr. Whitman shouted, as if her arrival was perfectly timed.
Taeho did not back down and shot back.
“Dr. Whitman, I have presented scientific evidence. Applying traditional treatment in the current situation is not an experiment, but the best choice for saving a life.”
“The best choice? You mean contaminating modern medicine with African superstition? I will never approve it on behalf of the WHO.”
“If Dr. Whitman represents the WHO, then I am someone who came here at the request of the United States government.”
At Taeho’s retort, Whitman’s face twisted. Since he had already come this far, Taeho decided to pull the problem up by the roots.
“Since Madam Aminata, the president’s guardian, is here, let us ask her. What do you think, Madam? Since you must understand the difference between our two treatment policies, please make your decision here and now.”
Madam Aminata spoke with a solemn expression.
“As it happens, I came because I had documents to deliver. Dr. Kang, this is a full power of attorney regarding my husband’s treatment. From the composition of the medical team to the treatment method, I will entrust everything to you.”
When Aminata nodded, a staff member standing behind her handed the documents to Taeho.
Taeho accepted the documents and reviewed them carefully. They had been drafted with complete legal precision.
All the doctors present were astonished. Since she had even given him full authority, the youngest doctor from Korea would now be leading the entire process.
It was something no one had expected.
Dr. Whitman’s face contorted as if he could not believe it, and he said,
“First Lady, this is a very heavy responsibility. If the treatment fails…”
“I will bear that responsibility. Whether it is the WHO or anyone else, I do not care. If it can save my husband, I will do anything.”
Madam Aminata cut him off firmly.
***
One hurdle had been cleared. But there was still a mountain left to cross.
To actually extract the treatment, a laboratory was needed. If this were Geumsan-ri, there would have been a research institute, but what could they do here right now?
Taeho asked Madam Aminata for help, and she mobilized every possible means to find a solution.
“Dr. Kang, there is a laboratory at the University of The Gambia. It has basic extraction equipment.”
“It’s late at night, but time is short. Would it be possible to use it immediately?”
“The president’s life is at stake. I will contact them at once.”
Thirty minutes later, at the laboratory of the University of The Gambia School of Medicine.
The laboratory door opened, and Professor Abdel Karim of the Gambian medical school greeted Taeho. He was a clinician in his mid-sixties with a gentle impression.
Professor Karim offered his hand and said,
“Hello, Dr. Kang.”
“I apologize for contacting you at such a late hour.”
“Not at all. I heard the general situation from Madam Aminata. Are you truly saying there is a way to help President Ibrahim?”
Taeho nodded.
“Professor, I need to use the laboratory because a precise extraction process is required.”
Professor Karim guided Taeho into the laboratory and said,
“Of course. Madam asked me to help Dr. Kang unconditionally. However, safety regulations must be followed without fail, and I need to know exactly what substance you intend to extract. The university must also take responsibility, after all.”
“I intend to produce an extract of Kigelia africana. By combining traditional methods with modern technology.”
Professor Karim stared blankly for a moment, then soon shook his head.
“…I never would have thought of that. Remarkable. I heard Mama Aisha is coming as well?”
“She should arrive soon.”
Taeho had judged that it would be more accurate for Mama Aisha to make the treatment than for him to extract it himself. And because a laboratory environment was necessary to prevent another infection, he had called her here.
Mama Aisha arrived exactly ten minutes later. But the moment she stepped through the laboratory door, she stopped in her tracks. The sight before her eyes was utterly different from the world she had seen all her life.
Inside the laboratory, bright fluorescent lights shone down, and all kinds of machines hummed. Glass tubes and flasks were lined up in rows, and shelves were filled with bottles containing unknown liquids.
Professor Karim spoke first in Mandinka.
“Mama Aisha, it is an honor to meet you. I am Professor Karim. Please do not worry. These machines are all tools for making medicine better.”
“Y-you’re saying we have to make medicine in a place like this?”
“Please come in.”
But Mama Aisha could hardly move.
“Can medicine truly be made here?”
Mama Aisha asked in a trembling voice.
Instinctively, she hugged her basket tighter. To her, who had made medicine from nature in the way of her ancestors for more than fifty years, this cold, artificial space seemed like another world.
When the mechanical sound from the ultrasonic extractor rang out, Mama Aisha flinched and stepped back.
“W-what is that sound?”
“Mama Aisha, that is…”
“Why is there so much here? A remedy must be made cleanly and properly. This will invite impurity!”
Professor Karim tried to explain, but Mama Aisha still could not hide her anxious expression.
Taeho did not understand the words, but he immediately grasped the situation. He turned off all the other equipment and approached Mama Aisha.
“Mama Aisha, please sit down for a moment.”
Professor Karim interpreted between Taeho and Mama Aisha in Mandinka.
Taeho brought over a chair and seated Mama Aisha. Then he met her at eye level.
Taeho took one kigelia fruit from Mama Aisha’s basket and held it up.
“Look at this fruit. It is a perfect medicine made by nature. The wisdom of your ancestors contained within it cannot be created by any machine.”
Mama Aisha’s expression gradually softened.
“That machine only helps make more efficient the process Mama Aisha carries out by steeping it overnight. The essence is the same. It merely shortens the time.”
Mama Aisha nodded and said,
“So what you mean is that these machines help our ancestors’ method more accurately?”
“Exactly. Mama Aisha’s wisdom is the master, and these machines are merely tools.”
Because those words came from Taeho, and no one else, Mama Aisha could feel reassured. Had her ancestors not said that he was one who possessed hands capable of saving countless lives?
Only then did Mama Aisha’s face grow calm.