Online Reporter
Yoliswa Moyo, Features Editor
AFTER labouring for close to 24 hours, in came a man in an orange T-shirt, royal blue work suit pants and black safety shoes, whooshing through the labour ward at Mater Dei Hospital in Bulawayo.
He was almost gasping for air, like he had been running up the stairs.
I was exhausted, drained, in excruciating pain and just wanted it all to end but couldn’t help noticing the compassion on the face of the man who had just walked in.
“Dai kwanga kuri kuchikoro wainyora composition ka — The day you’ll never forget!” said the now late renowned gynaecologist and obstetrician, Dr Taurai Gunguwo.
It was funny that he would say that because indeed, seven years later, I still remember it like it was yesterday!
This moment was 39 weeks coming. I had first met Dr Gunguwo early in 2018 when I walked into his consultation rooms after a positive pregnancy test. I remember how brightly he smiled as I walked in, my anxiety died down in that moment. I knew I had picked the perfect person to walk this journey with me.
Dr Gunguwo spoke at length about what I should expect, when I should call him and general care instructions. He ordered routine blood tests, did physical exams and all seemed to be in order. But what followed were the most tumultuous, nerve wrecking months of my life! And only he could have pulled me out of them gracefully and with so much care and compassion.
At the 20-week mark, Dr Gunguwo ordered an anomaly ultrasound scan, another routine exam. I was curious what anomalies were being looked for, what they would mean, how they would change the course of the pregnancy and he patiently explained, reassuring me that everything would be fine — because this is who he was; always positive, always believing for the best. But my worst fear came true. There was an anomaly with the baby and my pregnancy was classified “high risk and complicated”.
I must have spent an hour at his rooms that day — confused, devastated and unsure what the outcome would be. But Dr Gunguwo was reassuring. I didn’t see his face crack or a tinge of worry overcome him.
“Everything is going to be fine, don’t worry,” he said.
I didn’t stop worrying but knowing that he was keeping a close eye on me did help neutralise the anxiety. We continued with regular check-ups, monitored this “complication” closely but nausea and vomiting wouldn’t let me rest. I would get so dehydrated to a point of hospitalisation because of it.
“Ndozvinoita mimba askana,” he would say chuckling. So we continued. The weeks rolled by but at 35 weeks, there was blood. Anyone who has been pregnant before knows blood is the last thing you want to see.
I called Dr Gunguwo, like I had countless times before. He would always answer his phone because he understood how delicate pregnancy could be.
“Hanzii naGunguwo”, my mother asked, because his voice was the only one we could trust and rely on. Dr Gunguwo checked on the bleeding, he checked on the baby and cleared us to go home but at 39 weeks, my blood pressure suddenly shot up.
“If you have severe headaches, blurry vision or feel light-headed, call me and I’ll meet you at the hospital,” he said, sending me home that day.
Dr Gunguwo checked on the BP for three consecutive days that week — it was unrelenting. He decided to put me out of my misery because at this point, the baby was full term. Early on a Friday morning, Dr Gunguwo met me at Mater Dei Hospital to start the induction process.
Hours later, labour was not progressing and so he put me on an oxytocin IV drip to strengthen labour contractions. I thought these were going to kill me until he came back for a membrane sweep — it turned out to be the day I’d never forget for sure because the pain was insane! But through it all, Dr Gunguwo was constantly checking on me, probably every hour.
It was then that I understood why he would sometimes be constantly in and out of his consultation rooms. It was because another woman needed him somewhere and he made it a point to be there for them.
When it was finally time for the big push, Dr Gunguwo was there, straight out of his garden in his orange T-shirt and royal blue overalls! He delivered the baby safely on Sunday, February 3, 2019, at around 4.45PM. He made sure we both received the care we needed, especially the baby who had a few complications.
Late in 2020, I was back at his rooms with a second pregnancy.
“Bulawayo iri kukura. Ndozvatinoda izvi, tiri vashoma sterek muno,” he said, happy to be of service to me again.
Dr Gunguwo showed an interest in my work and always asked how my little boy was doing. The boy was well and strong. The “high risk and complicated pregnancy” had turned into joy unspeakable.
Dr Gunguwo went the extra mile in making sure he addressed any concerns I raised. While the second pregnancy was not as complicated as the first, I became hypertensive at 11 weeks and the plan was to make it to 30 weeks before getting the girl out. When we got to 30 weeks, Dr Gunguwo was optimistic I could stretch it a bit longer and give the baby a bit more time to grow. We made it to the 38-week mark and I was booked for a Caesarean section.
Dr Gunguwo came to check on me the night before, together with the anaesthetist, assuring me that all would go well.
I was in theatre around 6AM on June 18, 2021, and this time he was in sky blue scrubs and white gumboots.
“Just relax, we’ll be done in five minutes, don’t worry,” said Dr Gunguwo.
I don’t know if the procedure took five minutes but I was alive afterwards. In excruciating pain, but alive. A few complications arose during the healing process but he was a constant, ensuring that the wound healed and I got the best care possible.
During the hard days, Dr Gunguwo was the kind of doctor you wished you could call for no reason; just to hear him share some positivity and tell you that everything would be fine.
I referred many of my friends and family to him because I knew he would give them the best of himself. Following his passing, countless families took to social media to mourn his death and share stories about how he had saved them and their babies, how he was a reassuring voice and how his hands safely delivered their miracles.
Like the late legendary musician Oliver Mtukudzi aptly put it: “Takafanana nemubindu reruva…ruva rangoyevedza chete, iwe kwachu watanha, wati nguva yakwana.”
Dr Gunguwo left when many families still needed his medical care. Indeed, ruva rakanaka harirarame.
His memory will continue to live in many homes; I for one have two living, breathing human beings that will always be a constant reminder of Dr Gunguwo’s kindness and dedication to medicine.
And of course, a neat C-section scar along the bikini line, although I may never wear one in this lifetime!
Dr Gunguwo succumbed to kidney failure last Saturday and was buried at Lady Stanley Cemetery in Bulawayo on Thursday. President Mnangagwa conferred liberation hero status to the late gynaecologist and obstetrician who was a champion of the visual inspection of the cervix using Acetic Acid commonly known as Viac.
Dr Gunguwo mentored many doctors including obstetricians and gynaecologists. He offered holistic gynaecological care to scores of women across the country and will be sorely missed.
