by Nasir Warfa
Sunday, May 02, 2010
About ten years ago, I met a group of about 10 Somali doctors and public health officials at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine (LSHTM). These included: Dr Abdulkadir Wehliye, Dr Ibrahim Yalahow, Dr Abdi Abdulle and Abdi Gurey, Deqa Basbaas and many others. They were amongst an estimated 200 other Somali doctors with many years of experiences in patient care and health service management who have come to live in the UK as new immigrants. However, while some of the exiled health professionals resigned to the reality that their new refugee identity in the host nations devalued their medical profession, a handful of extraordinary doctors had other ideas: risking their lives for others living in conflict zones such as Somalia.
When at the LSHTM in London, I knew straight away I was hanging around with some of the finest people in terms of their commitment to human rights and patient care; they were the kind of people whose integrity, courage and caring nature shone through the worlds of destructive politics and mistrust. During a recent visit to Nairobi, I met my old LSHTM friends and other colleagues for lunch in the City Centre. We started with a light humour based conversation: we are having a dry croissant and a bit of yogurt milk for lunch, asked Dr Mohamed Fuje. The response from Dr Abdulle was as humorous: do you have any idea what is it like being attacked on a four hour local flight with no toilets, and with only sick bags? Please, I said, too much information. We are having lunch. The discussions then moved on swiftly and we begun to talk about the severe conditions within which the Somali doctors have been working over the past years. There was the story of a young female with learning disability who was raped in a lawless small town in Southern Somalia. She was brought to Hospital managed by Dr Abdi Abdulle to give birth. After her treatment at the hospital, and birth of her baby son, Dr Abdulle realised that she had no where to go and therefore couldn’t be discharged from the hospital. She had no relatives to look after her, and there are no social services in Somalia. With no other options to explore, he rented a house for her and her new born baby and continued to look after her for the following few months, all from his modest salary. In other words, the Somali doctors are also social workers and step parents to their patients. The kind of stories you hear from doctors working in conflict zones touches the heart.
On 3rd December 2009, the University of Banadir in Mogadishu (Somalia) was holding its annual graduation ceremony at a local hotel named Shamow when a suicide bomber struck, killing scores of people including doctors and healthcare professionals. The suicide bomb in Mogadishu highlights the challenges and risks faced by extra ordinary group of health professionals who are risking their lives to improve the quality of life in war torn areas. Returnee doctors are aware of the dreadful burden of diseases, both physical and mental health problems, in such neglected countries like Somalia.
On my return to London, I learned the tragic news of the suicide bombing at the graduation ceremony. The massacre of the graduation is a blow to the highly spirited doctors who struggle to prevent illness and promote health in one of the most dangerous countries in the World. The Somali doctors feel very sad at the misfortune that happened to their colleagues, but they do not feel defeated. Their reactions to the suicide bombing are as admiring as the work they have been doing in the country over the years. In addition to the colleagues who died in the attack, 13 Somali doctors were seriously injured. Somali health professionals and their colleagues and friends in different parts of the world have since been busy with a fund raising campaign so the injured doctors and other victims can get basic medical treatment and care. They have immediately mobilised their energy to look after the injured doctors and other victims of Shamow suicide bombing.
Looking back at the humanitarian work they have been doing in dangerous regions of Somalia, when many of them could easily have comfortable lives in the safe and secure districts of the West, you come to think: how often do you see people like them in everyday life? Not often. Not very often. What they need now is the moral and practical support of their colleagues around the world.
For support towards the injured Somali doctors, please contact Dr Abdikadir Wehliye Afrah: [email protected] or the relevant management of University of Banadir
Nasir Warfa is Senior Lecturer at Queen Mary University of London
[email protected]