Standing before the chief medical officer of Presbyterian General Hospital Acha-Tugi in Cameroon, Tata Agwo asked a simple question about his mother's death. ''Why?"

The physician paused, searching his memory for the 67-year-old woman who two weeks prior had been admitted to the African village's health facility complaining of chest pains, recalled Agwo. The doctor fumbled through his file, looking for an answer in the patient chart. ''Could be syncope," he finally concluded.

But that wasn't good enough. Syncope, or fainting, is just a symptom of a bigger problem, such as a heart condition or hypertension. What was most distressing to Agwo -- who, as a systems integration specialist at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, knows something about hospital procedure -- was the absence of any record that his mother had received even so much as a standard electrocardiogram to aid diagnosis.

Agwo, who had traveled to Cameroon to get answers about his mother's death, pressed the young doctor further. Finally the doctor offered an answer of sorts: The cause of death was not known because the hospital's electrocardiogram machine broke two years ago and had never been replaced.

At General Hospital Acha-Tugi, medical equipment dates back to 1964, when American, Swiss, and German missionaries ran the hospital. When they departed, they turned the hospital over to the Presbyterian Church of Cameroon, which didn't have resources to staff it, maintain equipment, or stock medication.

Today the neglected structure stands as a symbol of degraded healthcare facilities in underdeveloped countries around the world. What was meant to be a place of healing has become a place of mourning.

''Many patients are dying in the hospital," said Agwo, who lives in Stoughton with his wife and two teenage children. Agwo came to Boston a decade ago from Cameroon, where his brothers and sisters remain, and has since earned a master's degree from Northeastern University.

''There is no doubt that the lack of medication and equipment is a big issue. Is it OK for us to send patients there and give them false hope?"

It's a question that others have asked before him -- among them Victor Sologaistoa, who grew up in Guatemala. Like Agwo, Sologaistoa came from a poor country to the United States and found work at a major Boston-area hospital.

While Sologaistoa worked as a respiratory therapist and biomedical engineer at Brigham and Women's Hospital and Newton-Wellesley, he kept his eye on the room full of scrapped equipment that every hospital has. He recognized its potential value in a place where care is poor.

With that in mind, Sologaistoa cofounded the American Medical Resources Foundation, or AMRF, in Brockton in 1988. ''I know the need that exists in other countries," Sologaistoa said. ''The idea was to provide them with equipment that hospitals were throwing away."Continued...

AMRF works with about 60 hospitals, mostly in New England, including South Shore Hospital in Weymouth and Jordan Hospital in Plymouth, gathering everything from ultrasound to dialysis and even anesthesia machines for donation. This year it even has an ambulance to give away.

Which brings the story back to Agwo and that hospital in Cameroon. He wants the ambulance for Kob village in Cameroon.

The night his mother became ill, she was transported by motorbike over a narrow, mud-covered road to the hospital 5 miles away. She survived the ride only to be denied treatment for dehydration for over a day, he said.

Agwo -- who worked as administration director at Policlinic Bonanjo Hospital in the Cameroon city of Douala for four years before moving to the United States in 1996 -- understands hospital protocol. ''A patient either lives or dies based on what you do the first hours," he said.

The idea that his mother died because of a hospital's lack of resources makes him angry, but ''my mother is gone, and I think my energy will be best served by trying to get help for this hospital."

Upon Agwo's urging, AMRF has agreed to send more than $300,000 worth of equipment to Acha-Tugi. Since its inception, the foundation has donated more than $200 million worth of equipment to 185 hospitals and clinics in poor communities around the world. But before sending out supplies, it requires a $25,000 payment to cover overhead and shipping costs.

Agwo does not have $25,000, but he's determined to raise it. Over the past few months he's organized a team of prominent doctors, including the president of the Cameroon Medical Council and representatives from Harvard Medical International, a not-for-profit subsidiary of Harvard Medical School. The group will convene April 14 for a fund-raiser in Boston.

Harvard Medical International -- which typically works for a fee helping build infrastructure, faculty programs, and training for hospitals and medical schools -- is volunteering its time to the Acha-Tugi project, advising Agwo for the long term, because just getting equipment there is not enough.

''Research has to be done to make sure there is a good fit between what is being delivered and what is needed," said Amanda Pullen, the organization's vice president for knowledge management and communications. ''Tata needs to rethink the needs of the hospital system."

For instance, how much does it cost to run this hospital? Is something being donated that costs more to run than to buy something new? And is there someone who could service this equipment if something went wrong? These are all questions Pullen and crew continue to pose to Agwo.

But, she added, ''he's a great man; his heart is in the right place."

AMRF is familiar with many of the concerns Pullen raises. For that reason it likes to conduct a site visit to assess the hospital's needs. AMRF often receives equipment with missing pieces that must be tracked down from the manufacturer. But between its 55 volunteers, many of whom are retired doctors and engineers, and the volumes of equipment manuals housed at the Station Avenue warehouse, all donated products are updated to the original specification prior to shipping. AMRF will follow up with on-site training when needed.

The journey between Stoughton and Cameroon is long, but Agwo is steadfast in his commitment. If the fund-raiser is not successful, he said, he'll take out a loan.

Agwo said he is approaching the situation with the outlook of an African warrior, a topic he's written about extensively since arriving in the United States. A warrior, said Agwo, is someone who fights, but not violently, for success.