When that doesn’t happen, I keep going, and I hear Siya’s door open behind me. I reach the ditch and see a boy of fourteen or so, lying on his back, eyes flickering in a face covered in blood. His chest moves up and down and his hands clutch at his leg. The bright white bone of a fractured femur pokes out of his thigh, surrounded by raw, bloody tissue.

Shit, that must hurt.

But that’s all the emotion I allow myself before trying to think of a way Siya and I could get him out of the ditch without doing more damage.

‘Siya, what kit do we have in the truck? Is there anything flat we could use as a stretcher?’

I climb down into the ditch, and the boy opens his eyes and tries to move away, terrified. A good sign. He’s conscious. ‘It’s OK,’ I say in my calmest voice, not knowing if he’s likely to speak any English but hoping my tone will convey reassurance. ‘We’re going to help you.’

‘Here’s what we’ve got for first aid,’ Siya says, passing down a green bag that contains the basics. ‘And I have an idea for the stretcher.’

I dress the head wound. I can’t see any signs of spinal injury, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. However, I do know that if he stays here, he’ll die.

‘How about this?’ Siya stands over us, holding up a large oblong piece of plastic. ‘It’s the shelf from the back of the truck. The Boss will kill both of us if we get blood on it, but I think it’s worth a try.’

Screw the consequences. The casualty needs me and I know exactly what I must do to fix this. I get to work.

The boy survives, but halfway through the verbal lashing Siya and I get from Dr Murty, I wonder if we’re in worse shape than the patient.

‘Siya! How could you put at risk all the trust we have built in our communities? This untrained stranger could have destroyed it all with one ignorant word or deed.’

‘I didn’t think it through, Boss. Ma’am.’

The office is spartan but for a teak grandfather clock. The pendulum swings back and forth, and I can hear the strong, regular beat.

‘That is obvious, Siya. Imagine if she’d been hurt in a vehicle or even ambushed, the damage it could have done to our reputation.’

‘You’re right. I am so sorry.’

‘Enough. I will decide your fate tomorrow. And as for you, Miss . . .’ she checks her papers, ‘Miss Smith, I am shocked to see that you work in your own country’s health service. How about we send a few curious tourists into your hospitals? Shall we let them operate instead of your surgeons?’

‘I . . . it was an emergency, he needed treatment.’