"I don't even have a thermos," Sister Basope says.
There's no heating in the pediatric ward. The iron cots are squashed up at one end. The president, in his black suit, glowers down at us from the far wall.
Sister Basope tries. When I ask how she is, she replies: "I'm blessed." I watch as she takes the mother of Ruwarashe, an 11-year old Downs Syndrome child into a side room after the consultation. She reads to her from Rhapsody of Realities, a popular Bible-study course often quoted in the state-run Herald newspaper.
But as we leave to go, she calls after us: "Can I have a job sweeping your office?"
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