Listen to article It's still fresh on my mind when as kids we held that yellow - yellow clinic identity cards with our names written on aloft as treasured trophies as we marched to the Goka old clinic for mass vaccinations. Either we're led to the centre from our schools by our teachers, or we're sent to the vaccination centres from our homes by our parents, no a guardian wanted his or her ward left out of this lifesaving exercises. In front of the Presby Church, parents fought for places in the long queue for their children. The queue snaked about the precinct of the chapel as far as the eye could see. And it seemed all the natives of Goka had been gathered at one place for a festivity.