12.45pm: A road accident victim identified only as Maina is wheeled into the emergency unit.
The man has a deep cut right across his head. A doctor administers first aid to stop the bleeding and a morphine injection to stop the pain.
"He needs to see a specialist, maybe a neurosurgeon, because he could be bleeding in his brains," says Fredrik Khamati, who brought him in.
There is no neurosurgeon on standby and one has to be called in from home or other engagements. But it would take 45 minutes to one hour before one can arrive. In the meantime, the patient slips in and out of consciousness â his minders stand by his side facing the grim reality of having to watch their kin die before their eyes.
1.15pm: By now most of the people who had been jostling for cards and a chance to see the doctor have long given up. They are now sprawled on the benches or on the floor with their patients curled grotesquely on the stretchers â their fate hanging by a thread. A few call taxis to seek treatment elsewhere while others return home to await their fate.
Meanwhile, the few doctors and nurses still on duty (about half the number that started), are still battling to save the more critical patients and new ones who keep arriving in droves.
A few are quickly wheeled to the doctorâs office and then to intensive care unit as the hospital staff battle to attend to arriving casualties.
1.45am: A wailing woman is rushed through the main door on a stretcher â she is bleeding profusely and blood is dripping through the stretcher fabric.
"She attempted abortion in Huruma estate," says her sister, Akinyi. A backstreet doctor botched the operation, leading to severe bleeding.
Her loud wailing stirs the now subdued crowd of patients and their minders in the waiting room. The nurses quickly wheel her away to the labour ward, apparently to divert attention.
"She would have to see a gynecologist," says Akinyi, as she emerges from the doctorâs room.