Keita’s actual treatment takes less than a minute but it may be an hour before he has been seen and he is once more wheeled out into the sunlight of this plush Casablanca neighbourhood for our daily promenade by foot back down the hill.
We pass manicured gardens where breathtaking displays of multicoloured bougainvillea jostle with hibiscus and begonias in a studied and intended chaos, next to mature and formal rows of magnificent palm trees lining the quiet roads and disappearing into the hazy distance where the horizon meets the sea.
On the way we may meet a mother walking a pram, and this I always find embarassing and a little painful- I think of Keita’s parallel position in his wheelchair.
We may also encounter tokens of ostentatious wealth in the form of the brand new Ferrari which passed us yesterday.