Nourishing Patient Recovery at Koidu Government Hospital

For weeks, Phebian Baningo had been staying at the newly opened Maternal Center of Excellence (MCOE) at Koidu Government Hospital (KGH), where her newborn daughter, Grace, was admitted to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). 

Grace was born at home and did not receive enough oxygen at birth. When she arrived at the facility, she needed immediate support. She was placed on oxygen therapy and laid in an infant warmer to regulate her temperature. She had remained under close monitoring in the NICU, where nurses tracked her breathing, temperature, and nutrition carefully each day. 

Phebian slept in the mother’s dormitory, a dedicated space within the same building that allows women to stay close while their babies receive specialized care. Each day, she walked between the dormitory and the NICU, spending time at her daughter’s bedside, watching for small signs of progress. 

Recovery for mothers does not pause while a baby is in intensive care. Phebian was still healing from childbirth, expressing her breastmilk, and listening to updates from nurses on her baby’s improvement. 

Her recovery was supported by the hospital’s newly introduced inpatient feeding program. 

Beginning February 14 when the MCOE opened, meals are delivered across the hospital, including to mothers staying at the MCOE and caregivers in the pediatric wards, three times a day. Breakfast is served between 7:00 and 8:00 a.m., lunch from 12:00 to 1:00 p.m., and dinner from 5:00 to 6:00 p.m. Meals are prepared by caterers, delivered in bulk, and portioned by the hospital’s nutrition team, apron-clad with hair nets, into large silver bowls before being distributed to wards and dormitories on a trolley with five tiers. Typical meals include bread and pap (a traditional fermented cereal porridge) in the morning, rice in the afternoon, and porridge or spaghetti in the evening. 

For Phebian, the quality of the meals stood out. 

“The cooks are very good,” said Phebian. “It was a surprise to me. It’s good for mothers because the food has enough protein. The cooks will put it on a tray and come and distribute it.” 

Her experience reflects a broader shift inside KGH. 

Evaline Ngige, nurse manager at KGH, was involved in the feeding program from its earliest planning stages. She said the initiative began with a simple but urgent concern: patients were being treated without consistent access to food. 

“Kono is quite poor, and most of our patients are very vulnerable,” Ngige explained. “They come to the hospital and don’t have food, yet we are giving them medication.” 

From an operational perspective, turning that concern into a functioning system required coordination across multiple teams. 

Princewill Richard, director of hospital operations at KGH, said the program was initially prioritizing patients in wards with the most need, like the MCOE, but was expanded to cover all inpatients admitted at KGH. 

Working with the Ministry of Health’s Directorate of Food and Nutrition, the hospital adopted a standardized menu aligned with national guidelines. 

On the hospital grounds, an Inpatient Food Distribution Center was established to manage portioning and delivery, supported by nutrition staff from the ministry. Today, meals are prepared for approximately 250 patients each day. 

“The inpatient feeding program has been a wonderful experience for patients,” Princewill said. “Many of them are not able to obtain three balanced meals a day even when they are not hospitalized.” 

For patients in recovery or undergoing intensive treatment regimens, the consequences of going without food extend beyond discomfort. 

Jonathan Aiah, 34, has been admitted at KGH for four months, receiving treatment for drug-resistant tuberculosis (DR-TB). He lives three hours away, with his elderly mother, and has no family in Koidu to support him during admission. 

This is his second time on treatment. 

The first time, he was discharged. But when he returned home, food ran out and, without enough to eat, continuing treatment became difficult. He left care and took up mining work to survive. 

When his condition worsened, he returned. 

 Treatment for drug-resistant tuberculosis (DR-TB) varies depending on the severity of the disease and the regimen prescribed. Some patients complete treatment in as little as six months, while others require up to two years. The daily pill burden can range from around seven to as many as 20 tablets, making treatment physically and mentally demanding over time. For patients like Aiah, taking roughly 16 pills a day, often on an empty stomach, can be difficult to tolerate. Without enough food, sticking to treatment becomes harder, which is why consistent access to meals plays a direct role in whether patients are able to continue and recover. 

Ngige has witnessed the difference for all inpatients since meals were introduced. 

“Now they are compliant with taking their medication,” she said. “You just tell them lunch is coming, and they will take their medication. Dinner is coming, they are taking their medication.” 

The impact extends beyond TB care. Surgical patients who previously had no relatives to bring food are now eating regularly. Mothers are physically stronger during recovery. 

“Most of the mothers are breastfeeding children,” Ngige noted. “If I am a mother in the hospital and I don’t even have food, breastfeeding becomes an issue.” 

Regular meals allow mothers at the MCOE and the KGH pediatric ward to maintain energy and support milk production during extended stays. 

Before the program began, families often crowded the wards to deliver food, and hygiene was difficult to regulate. Now, meals are centralized. Nutritionists verify menus to ensure they meet hospital standards. Clean water dispensers have also been installed in the wards to support hydration. 

Getting the program up and running involved logistical challenges, including transportation and ongoing discussions about special diets for patients with diabetes and hypertension. But for Ngige, the shift has been significant. 

“From the very first time,” she said, recalling the first delivery morning, “the patients were so happy.” 

For Phebian, whose days were measured in vital sign readings and gradual improvements, the feeding program complemented the medical care her daughter required. As she waited, healed, and returned to the unit daily, meals arrived on a tray three times every day. 

For patients like Aiah, those meals mean being able to continue treatment. For the now-discharged Grace and Phebian, they meant one less uncertainty.