My time at a Syrian refugee camp
Syria’s civil war has created one of the worst humanitarian crises of our time. Here, trainee GP Dr Zubair Wani shares his experiences of treating patients in a Syrian refugee camp in Turkey
Ihave always felt grief for the unfortunate circumstances of the Syrian people. While many refugees have reached Europe, many reside in refugee camps in Turkey, Jordan and Lebanon.
As I watched these scenes from the comfort of my living room, I felt compelled as a doctor and a human being to help in whatever way possible.
One of my medical colleagues, Vhaid Mushtaq, had travelled previously to Adana in southern Turkey.
On learning there would be another humanitarian aid mission in July, I jumped at the chance to get involved.
I travelled with a non-profit organisation called United Aid Network (UAN). Our group consisted of five doctors and seven non-medical humanitarian workers.
We worked with a local charity that also consisted of Syrian refugees and visited three different camps in July 2017.
We had all fundraised prior to travelling, and between us raised £15,000. This money went toward food parcels, medical supplies, sanitation projects and school equipment.
When we finally arrived at the first camp in Tuzla, I was overcome with a feeling of sorrow at what laid before me. I had seen such pictures before on television, but seeing it for myself made them very real.
There were flimsy tents spread over the sand unsystematically to accommodate 1,000 families.
There was limited electricity in several tents. The temperature was almost touching 40 degrees.
I had struggled all day in the uncomfortable heat, despite the air conditioning, however these residents did not enjoy such luxuries.
Women and children worked the fields in the sweltering heat to support their families.
The toilets consisted of a small tent with a hole in the ground flanked by two sandbags, with waste collecting on the other side.
There were flies collecting on the other side and these flies were also in contact with people’s food.
Needless to say, the potential for disease was evident. Several taps provided filtered water, which had been installed previously through UAN donations.
There was also a makeshift mosque and school.
Turkey hosts more than 2.9 million registered Syrians, with around 260,000 accommodated in government-run camps.
These camps are well funded and managed. However, there are many refugees living in unregistered camps that do not receive any funding and rely on humanitarian aid.
It was for this reason that we visited unregistered refugees.
The Syrian people are some of the most welcoming and hospitable people I have met. Given their unfortunate circumstances, they insisted we have tea on each visit and prepared large meals for us.
This presented a dilemma as I could only guess how many days’ worth of food they had selflessly prepared, but at the same time it is seen as disrespectful to refuse food when offered.
We ran basic clinics at the camps which was best described by one of my colleagues as “organised chaos”.
We had brought our own medical supplies with us consisting of analgesia, calpol, antibiotics, dressings and topical treatments; the majority of which was donated.
Medications that we did not have were acquired from pharmacies and given to patients in the camp the following day.
We performed clinics in tents in each of the camps, in groups of two, in addition to a translator.
Most people do not see a doctor unless their condition is life-threatening, so on hearing that there were doctors in the camp a queue of people formed outside the tent, which very quickly became a swarm.
Privacy was limited. We worked alongside each other, although there was a separate tent for women.
We saw many children with viral fevers or skin rashes. Diarrhoea was a common theme throughout the camps, especially with infants.
Many people in the camp were afflicted with skin conditions such as fungal infections, scabies and wound infections following sunburn.
Other conditions we encountered were simple infections, heat rash, psoriasis, headaches and thermal injury.
Without bloods it was difficult to fully assess patients, although we performed basic observations.
Fortunately, nobody was ill enough to warrant a hospital visit. My impression is that the majority of these problems were secondary to the poor hygiene and sanitation in the camp.
There were also several chronic conditions that in the UK are easy to treat, however with no money or access to hospitals, were impossible to treat there. For example, we met an elderly lady who was blind from her cataracts.
Secondly, an elderly man with a colostomy bag who had a recent operation in Adana, and did not have enough money to visit the hospital for his clinic follow-up appointment.
He did not have any replacement colostomy bags and was worried about infection. Luckily there was no infection and we arranged to get a
What distressed me the most was the feeling of helplessness at not being able to do more for these people
supply of replacement bags for him.
We met a young girl with Thalassemia Major (severe anemia). She had been very weak, malnourished and developing recurrent skin infections. Fortunately, during our visit, a government hospital in Turkey accepted admission for free treatment.
Finally, we met a young boy with cerebral palsy whose mother complained of his poor swallow. He was severely malnourished. In the UK, this young boy would have had intense multidisciplinary team (MDT) input and an acceptable quality of life.
He had already aspirated on several occasions and been treated for chest infections, and the reality is that each subsequent infection could potentially be a terminal event.
We reviewed approximately 200 patients during our visit. It was not an easy task given the limited facilities, language barrier, cultural differences and the heat.
Furthermore, in between clinics we helped with food packing and distribution.
For anyone contemplating medical humanitarian work, I cannot recommend it enough. It will challenge your skills in practising medicine outside of your comfort zone, and also give you the opportunity to travel the world and gain a humbling insight into peoples’ lives.
The whole experience was a memorable one.
I left Adana with an immense respect for the Syrian people who despite their hardship, persevere with life and do not let their situation affect their spirit, character and kind-heartedness.
Although we did as much as possible, I feel they were no more than short-term solutions.
UAN have set aside funds for sanitation, hygiene packs, but also empowerment projects where they may be able to become self-sustainable through small crafts and businesses.
What distressed me the most was the feeling of helplessness at not being able to do more for these people who found themselves in their circumstances by no fault of their own. Some of the children I met, around the age of eight, will be working in the field next year and so will have no chance of an education and hence a future.
This is true in any society afflicted by conflict, poverty and oppression.
I will continue to help in any way I can and hope to visit soon again.
However, as I write this report from the comfort of my home, I know that the beautiful people I had the pleasure of meeti`ng will be in their tents tonight, exposed to the harsh Turkish climate, which in a few months’ time will turn extremely cold. I count my blessings for every day I have food, shelter, and easy access to a quality health service.
I only hope that there is a political solution for Syrians, and anyone across the world enduring similar hardships.
■ Dr Zubair Wani is a trainee GP working in palliative care in the Princess of Wales Hospital, Bridgend.