In between the segments where celebs were mildly / very / not at all funny, simultaneously soothing their consciences and boosting their careers (the apotheosis of the win/win situation), were heart-rending films of terribly poor people, mostly in Kenya, living in shocking circumstances. David Tennant reported from a hospital where one young doctor, bespectacled and earnest, laboured in inadequate conditions to treat a never-ending stream of anxious parents bearing glassy-eyed infants, most in the final toils of malarial infection. "Give a fiver", said Tennant. "Give a tenner. Buy mosquito nets. Buy malaria testing kits".
Graham Greene once said that every artist's heart contains a sliver of ice, and, aware of the perhaps justified emotional manipulation going on, I said aloud, "Where are all the old Kenyan doctors? Why is it you only see the young ones in these programmes?" And then amidst a horrified silence, "Probably working in the NHS, that's where".
When I repeated this remark around the dinner-table with friends the following night there was an audible intake of breath. I had no idea whether it was true or not, which was clearly reckless. But I do now. If you google "kenyan doctors in uk" the first thing that comes up is an article published on the Bio Med Central website by some World Health Organisation academics, which confirms extensive migration of Kenyan doctors, not just to the UK, where about 70 seem to be working, but to other western countries as well.
"Our study", says the conclusion, "estimated the economic loss incurred by Kenya as a result of emigration of one doctor to be about US$ 517,931 and one nurse to be US$ 338,868. However, we suspect that the magnitude of the socioeconomic loss due to brain drain is likely to be even larger than our estimates.... Developed countries continue to deprive Kenya of millions of dollars worth of invaluable investments made in the production of health workers.... Economic arguments notwithstanding, ultimately the price of emigration of human resources for health from Kenya to developed nations is paid in unnecessary debility, morbidity, human suffering and premature death among Kenyan people. This unacceptable situation should be urgently reversed..."
No kidding.
African poverty is attributable to a variety of political factors, including past and present interference by the West, the lack of effective democratic institutions, the lack of fair trade, and a widespread culture of corruption. It is arguable that giving money on Red Nose Day does no more than spread a small quantity of sticking plaster over the gaping wounds.
The people from Comic Relief would no doubt say, "Fair enough; but we are putting the politics on one side; we aren't interested in that bit of it; we are only interested in helping individuals whose plight is desperate". To which I would say, "OK, but by applying the sticking plaster you are helping to sustain a fiction, which is that Africa's problems can be made alright if we in the West give a tenner here and there. But that is untrue. At root, Africa's problems are political. Migration of skilled medical staff is a political issue. How can you ignore it when it's right under your noses? In your own flipping film?"
It may be a small point amidst the general misery, but as far as I know there is no shortage of British people who would quite like to be doctors. Why then do we have to import them?
Towards the end of the evening we gave Comic Relief £50. Better to be a mug than be mean. But I still feel a mug.
