How readers' generosity saved Caroline's leg

A year ago I came across Caroline Mumba in Misisi, a squalid slum on the edge of Lusaka, the capital of Zambia. It was a painful sight. The 16-year-old schoolgirl sat quietly on the floor of her home, a dirty, cramped hut. She was waiting to have her leg hacked off.

A road accident had left Caroline's leg broken in several places; treatment at Lusaka's terrible public hospital made it infinitely worse. The wound was a glistening mess of infected flesh, punctured with metal pins the doctors had never removed. Amputation seemed inevitable.

Her story provided a shocking example of an otherwise dry issue: how Africa's massive debt burden has crippled public services. But it also touched many Independent readers, who responded with overwhelming generosity. Letters and donations flooded in.

A couple from Little Lurkenhope said they were "humbled" and posted £20. A wealthy businessman, who said he didn't normally trust charity, gave more than £1,000. Many others followed, including one man wanted to fly Caroline to London for the operation. A journalists from the BBC, Mike Donkin, also reported the story, and it ran in The Irish Times. Donkin's daughter Laura volunteered to handle the donations, which totalled almost £18,000.

The money saved Caroline's leg, and possibly her life. We checked her into a private hospital. Several operations followed: her leg was broken and reset, the wound was cleaned and skin grafts applied.

Last week I visited Caroline in her new home. I found a healthy, confident young woman. The festering wound had gone and she walked, albeit with a limp. The right leg was still misshapen, but is being eased into action by twice-weekly physiotherapy.

The new house cost £500. It's no palace – three small rooms of breezeblock walls and a tin roof – but by local standards this is upper class. Readers' money also paid for food and other necessities. She is back to school and can chat away in fine English and even a few words of French. To the people who paid for this, she simply says: "Thank you for what you have done. I appreciate it because I was not thinking I would be walking again." There is one outstanding problem. There is a lot of money left over.

The bill for Caroline's operation, aftercare and basic upkeep came to just over £4,000, leaving a surplus of £14,000. We have decided to put the money towards others medical emergencies, benefiting children.

The dispiriting thing is that there are so many. Just a few shacks from Caroline's new home, a young couple are dying of Aids. Mwandu Chama is 28 yet cannot even lift his withered frame out of a chair. His 26-year-old wife, Lwando, suffers from diarrhoea and rashes. "They will not last long," whispers their carer.

Money also matters to these people. The day I visited, they were supposed to go to hospital for treatment, but lacked the £2.50 return taxi fare. Their situation is tragic yet mundane – there are people like these all over Misisi, and Lusaka, and Africa. Independent readers sympathised with the pain of one young woman, thousands of miles away, and transformed her life. This time, I could only hand them the money for the taxi, make my excuses, and leave.