Why Did a German Rose Bloom in Africa?
Africa Cries Out Report — Issue 14, 2026
Wang Haibin
April 2, 2026
After driving more than two hours from the Africa Cries Out base in Dakar, Senegal, we arrived at the site of this mission’s surgeries — Fatick Hospital. Being inland, the heat here was even more intense than in Dakar. Before we even reached the gynecology clinic, we saw a long line of patients in the corridor — women who had scheduled surgeries for the coming week and were waiting for pre‑operative evaluation. Our team set down our luggage and immediately began working.
(Image: the long line in the corridor)
Only one interpreter, David, accompanied us on this trip. According to protocol, each patient must first be screened by the gynecology team; those requiring surgery are then referred to the anesthesiologists for evaluation. But with only one interpreter, and with Dr. Jiang from gynecology “borrowing” David first, Dr. Cruz and I — the two anesthesiologists — suddenly found ourselves unable to proceed. I was anxiously pacing the hallway when I heard a fluent English greeting behind me.
I looked up and saw a stylishly dressed middle‑aged woman. Her elegance and demeanor were unlike the local patients; for a moment I thought she might be the hospital director’s wife coming to welcome us. She thanked us warmly for arranging surgery for her mother next week and pointed to an elderly woman waiting in line.
Curious, I asked how her English was so fluent. She explained that years ago she had left Senegal, lived in Chicago for four years, and worked hard to master English. Later she met her current husband and moved with him to Germany, where she built a career in fashion design. She had returned to Fatick this time to visit her mother and accompany her to the hospital. Her name, she said, was Rose.
No wonder she carried herself with such grace — her speech polished, her clothing tasteful. Besides English, Rose also speaks German, French, Spanish, and three local languages. She was practically a “walking translation machine.”
Rose expressed deep admiration for our team traveling all the way from the United States to provide medical care, and she was especially grateful that we had arranged surgery for her mother. I didn’t bother with American HIPAA privacy rules at that moment — I immediately asked whether she would be willing to help us translate so that gynecology and anesthesia evaluations could proceed simultaneously and efficiently. She agreed without hesitation. Just like that, our biggest obstacle disappeared, and with her help, our work progressed smoothly.
When Rose’s mother finished all her evaluations and was ready to go home, six more patients still needed translation. I felt anxious but didn’t dare ask Rose to stay longer — after all, she was helping purely out of kindness. To my surprise, she told me she had already asked her brother to take their mother home so she could remain and continue assisting us.
I was overjoyed. Rose stayed until the very last patient was seen — without even taking a sip of water the entire time.
In truth, Rose’s story mirrors that of many of us doctors: leaving home when young to pursue a better life, yet always carrying a heart full of kindness — ready to help others whenever the opportunity arises.
To Rose — the Senegalese rose blooming in Germany — we offer our heartfelt thanks.
(Image: the author with Rose after the day’s work)
About the Author
Wang Haibin, MD, PhD
Anesthesiology & Pain Medicine Specialist
Based in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Multiple‑time volunteer with Africa Cries Out
Editor’s Note
“We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”
(Romans 8:28)
In this warm encounter, we witnessed not only a medical team serving across thousands of miles, but also how God prepares “roses” like her — appearing quietly at just the right moment.
Whether a doctor traveling far from home or a daughter returning to her homeland, whenever we extend our hands to help, we are participating in God’s plan — whether in a hospital corridor in a foreign land or on a much larger stage.