Developed cellulitis in Rwanda — bravery suddenly became the only option

Text and photos / Published by Times Publishing, “Passing By: What the World Taught Me” by Huang Yuyang

My left foot had developed cellulitis again.

After crossing the border into Rwanda, I walked a few streets before I began to feel a sharp soreness in my left foot. Although I kept telling myself “no way, no way, no way,” by evening it had swollen to the same size as during my previous infection — identical symptoms: warm, swollen, and painful. I couldn’t accept that I might not be able to walk again.



I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the spinning ceiling fan. Aside from being stunned, I needed to calm my mind first and think about how to treat my reinfected left foot in this small border village. I remembered that during the weeks I spent lying in bed with both malaria and cellulitis, I had read numerous articles on both illnesses. I had listed several antibiotics used to treat cellulitis, along with suitable painkillers. I had hoped I’d never need that information again — but there it was, relevant once more.

Before the pain in my left foot became unbearable, I hobbled to a nearby pharmacy and wrote down the names of four or five types of antibiotics on a piece of paper, hoping they had at least one of them in stock. Two or three women in the pharmacy crowded around the paper, frowning, then looked up at me. Rwanda, once a Belgian colony, and the women spoke fluent French — which I couldn’t understand at all — but I could read their body language: none of the antibiotics on the list were available here. After quite some time trying to communicate, I finally got them to understand that I wanted to know what kinds of antibiotics they did have. They arranged several medicine bottles on the table, and I wrote down the name of each one. Then I limped back to my place, connected to the internet, and searched through article after article on unfamiliar drug names, scanning through medical papers, hoping that at least one of the antibiotics sold at the pharmacy could treat cellulitis.

I identified two antibiotics that might possibly work for cellulitis — though I wasn’t sure at all — but I had no other choice but to take a gamble. By the time I went back out to buy the medicine, the pain in my foot had become almost unbearable. When I walked into the pharmacy, I could barely hold back my tears. I bought the medicine, took it on the spot, and prayed it would actually help my foot.

I was truly feeling a bit hopeless at that moment.

Sometimes you just don’t have a choice. When something happens, no matter how unwilling or how much you resist accepting the reality. People don’t just become brave out of nowhere — until bravery becomes the only option.

I had thought I’d cry myself to sleep that night, but strangely, I didn’t.