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The clinic that learned to see
By Kinya Kaunjuga
It was during one of our chats when Job Mac’Ogallo, manager of Provide Hospital, leaned in slightly and dropped a sentence that carried more weight than he let on:
“This month—May 2025—I paid all the staff salaries early and in full. For the first time since 2019.”
He didn’t say it for effect. There was no drama in his tone—just quiet pride, the kind that comes from finally seeing a breakthrough after a difficult transition. But what made it truly remarkable wasn’t just the milestone itself. It was how fast it had happened.
Not after a long recovery. Not after grants or bailouts.
Just 90 days—that’s all it took after implementing the BandaGo system. Three months that changed everything.
So how does a struggling clinic, weighed down by years of delayed salaries and operational strain, pull off a turnaround that swift?
That’s where the story begins.
“Please make sure that all your work is carried out through the BandaGo system. It’s important for keeping everything organized and accessible. Let me know if you need any help!” These were the final words Job managed to spew out in a flurry of desperation. It helped that the plastic plants in his tiny office allowed him to vent without any interruption and it felt good for a few minutes imagining that would be the case when he delivered a similar ultimatum, with much less candor, to the staff later that day. But humans are not as predictable as plastic flowers and dusting does not improve their character.
He rehearsed the line again, mouthing the words silently while staring at the BandaGo login screen as if it might reward his loyalty with something more than a spinning wheel. “Your commitment to this standard is greatly valued…” It had a nice ring to it. Measured. Inevitable. Like the polite smile of a waiter who has already decided not to bring the sauce you asked for.
Job adjusted the cuff of his shirt—a gesture he’d picked up from a regional manager in a conference video once—and considered standing while saying it. Standing gave things weight. But then again, standing might also invite questions. And if anyone asked what “serious consequences” really meant, he’d have to make something up, because HR had yet to define them in language more specific than “ongoal-aligned behavioral recalibration.”
He sighed. The plants, artificial though they were, remained unbothered. One of them had tipped over weeks ago and lay on its side like a wounded soldier of decor. He’d started to think of it as a metaphor, though for what, exactly, he wasn’t sure. The broken systems? Himself? Losses?
He picked it up and set it upright. A small, pointless correction in a world increasingly held together by empty logins, hesitant keystrokes, and the hope that no one would notice that everyone else had stopped believing too.
It remained something of a mystery to the clinic manager why anyone might object to a tool designed, at least in theory, to make their lives easier. The logic seemed unassailable: less time spent on tasks, more time for everything else — a vague, glowing promise hanging over the software like a slogan no one had quite agreed to but everyone had to repeat.
He had attempted persuasion, naturally. There were slides, handouts, even a mildly interactive Q&A that dissolved under the weight of its own politeness. He had explained — patiently, with diagrams — how BandaGo would bring order to the chaos: inter-departmental visibility, seamless continuity of care, reduced wait times, access to real-time data. Words that shimmered with possibility but landed with the thud of more work in new packaging.
Still, he told the Banda Health implementer, he had done what he could. He had tried light. Then he tried heat. Eventually, he delivered the kind of ultimatum that tends to end all discussion: use BandaGo or face termination. The staff nodded — slowly, like people nodding at a storm they know they cannot stop. Resistance had begun to look less like professional disagreement and more like stubborn nostalgia — for paper, for shadows, for a time when things could go missing and no one would know.
There were, of course, other concerns. Some whispered, some louder. Questions about money, mismanagement, and where things went when no one was looking. So, he put up cameras — discreet but deliberate. Accountability, he said. Surveillance, they murmured. Progress, perhaps, is always a little uncomfortable when it starts to look back at you.
But eventually, they came around. Or at least, they complied. And something remarkable happened. BandaGo began to speak — not in words, but in data. It showed them what they had been doing, and more painfully, what they had not. Processes once blurred became clear. Revenue rose — dramatically. From $1,700 a month to $10,830 in 90 days from first full use of BandaGo. Not through miracle, but through math. Through the plain, steady act of seeing.
Every product tracked, every shilling counted, every patient registered — from arrival to departure. The clinic, it seemed, had become a mirror, and in its reflection, the staff began to see a kind of health of their own.
“Not only did they get their salaries early,” Job said, his voice steady with purpose, “I’m also paying back a quarter of what I owe them with each paycheck.” He spoke with intense conviction — the kind that comes from knowing what it means to carry people with you, not just employ them.
As we kept talking, Job revelaed a little more...
“Suppliers are now surprised that I am calling them and that I’m paying them for past due debts!”
“This is all happening because of the BandaGo system. Systems don’t lie. They give us the true position of who and what is there in our hospital. All our stock is now recorded in BandaGo and we are no longer running out of medications and supplies.”
“The staff are putting in all the information at their work stations. They are registering every patient and services completed. Everything is recorded from triage to the final cashier at the reception and an electronically generated receipt from BandaGo is issued.”
“Security personnel who I can now afford to hire, is checking the receipts as each patient exists the building. We then carry out reconciliation with the accountant daily.”
“We never believed that things could change like this! Thank you Banda!”
Visibility that heals: The Banda Effect
At Banda Health, we’ve spent years walking alongside front-line medical clinics — not just to help them survive, but to help them thrive. We’ve gotten very good at deploying solutions that help clinics strengthen their bottom line, because we know that when a clinic is healthy, it can care better for the people who rely on it.
Visibility is one of the most powerful tools in the transformation. When a clinic can quickly and clearly track its cash flow and medication supplies, far less goes missing – medications are actually available on the clinics shelves for patients when they need them, more cash is available to get reinvested into improving the patient care facilities, and staff feel care for themselves and in a better position to take good care of patients. That’s exactly what happened at Provide Hospital, where BandaGo helped fuel a sixfold increase in monthly revenue without any increase in patient charges or patient volume. That’s not just better bookkeeping – that’s the foundation for better healthcare.
Because what BandaGo does isn’t just about tracking shillings and pills — it’s about reshaping how care is given, how patients are seen, and how dignity is restored in places where resources are stretched and the work is often overwhelming. But that chapter deserves its own telling, when the light feels just right.
Thank you for being part of this journey with us and for your valuable support. We couldn’t do it without you — and we wouldn’t want to.
Kinya Kaunjuga
Kinya, our corporate storyteller, has lived and worked in Africa, Asia and North America. She’s met people from almost every part of the world and believes everybody has a story worth listening to.