The sun was relentless. So were the dozens of faces stubbornly waiting to enter the tiny thatched hut in Zimbabwe where Nhamburo Masango, a traditional healer, sat among herbs, bones and other remedies. An old man in front of me had a skin rash, another person a swollen leg, and somewhere a child complained of stomachache. No one, it seemed, was discouraged by the long, winding queue.
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Itai Madamombe (2006) studied this question.