Read, Debate: Engage.
Opinion
All opinions in this section are those of the author(s) and do not necessarly reflect the opinion of FairPlanet.
.
AAH_SSD24_day14_48993
September 24, 2024

My refugee journey: Returning home again

As a young boy, I never dreamed of pursuing a career in medicine. Instead, I imagined a life following in my father’s footsteps as a cattle herder in Mangol Apuk in what is now South Sudan.

Then the Second Sudanese Civil War (1983-2005) turned my dreams upside down and forced my family to flee our home.  Separated from my parents and siblings in the chaos, I escaped on my own to Kenya. 

My arduous journey around the world and back home started on foot, and the days turned into months in what felt like a never-ending walk. Some days, I would find something to eat; other days, I had nothing at all. But I kept going - because what other choice did I have? 

After four months of traveling, I reached the Lakes State in central South Sudan. Still, my journey wasn’t over. I was able to travel by car to Yei and crossed the Kaya border to Uganda, before finally making it safely into Kakuma, Kenya. 

Thousands of other refugees survived similar treks during the Civil War, but two million did not survive the conflict. Numerous human rights violations were documented. War continues to affect Sudan today, as the country once again grapples with famine and millions of Sudanese and South Sudanese face hunger. 

Life as a refugee

In Kenya, I enrolled in school and lived with a caretaker family at a refugee camp. My life had been peaceful before the conflict. I was an eager student who walked hours to and from school daily. I cultivated a love of learning. Living as a refugee meant that education was a luxury that was far from guaranteed. But, I was lucky. Sadly, I know many more children face a similar predicament today, as the number of people displaced by violence is on the rise.   

One day, while playing football on the playground, chance reunited me with my little brother, who I hadn’t seen since we fled our country. He was living nearby with another group of caretakers. Later, we were miraculously reunited with our mother in Kenya.

In 2000, my brother and I were enrolled in the Lost Boys Program, an agreement between the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the US government that resettled thousands of young Sudanese refugees in the US in response to the growing orphan crisis in the region.

An estimated 20,000 Sudanese boys were orphaned or separated from their families between 1983 and 2005. So I found myself once again starting a new life, this time in Nebraska.

I worked hard and studied while the war raged in my country for another ten years. The pursuit of education in an entirely new system presented several obstacles. Not only did I not have the proper GED documentation to enroll in college, but classes in this foreign system were challenging, and I was working while going to school.

Though I was grateful to be safe, I often thought of my homeland and longed to go back.

Eventually, I returned home. Our small village is in an area that became part of South Sudan after the 2011 referendum. There, I was reunited with my father.

Brittle healthcare infrastructure  

In my home country, I enrolled in university and pursued a degree in clinical medicine, so that I could provide care to my community in Mangol Apuk. 

Today, I am working as a healthcare clinician in a sector with rapidly growing needs and few resources. In fact, Sub-Saharan Africa has 25 per cent of global diseases, but only 3 per cent of healthcare workers, globally. This major health force shortage greatly depletes the capacity and quality of medical care in the region.

Dr Anei Piol, 44, is a South Sudanese government doctor. Action Against Hunger help to suppliment Dr Piol's income so doctors like him can remain at work serving some of the most vulnerable and isolated communities in the country.

Rapid population growth, inconsistent and low pay and fragile governance contribute to the diminished healthcare workforce, and many healthcare workers are recruited by Western countries targeting clinical professionals from low-income countries.

There is no easy solution with such varied and systemic forces behind the healthcare worker drought, but building awareness of the deficit is a good start. 

I was propelled by the kindness I experienced in the refugee camps in Kenya, which lit a spark that fuels my passion for humanitarian work.

Today, I remember fondly the older members of the camp insisting that everyone be treated equally and that no one be left behind. I repay my former caretakers by helping others in my practice as a clinical officer in a primary care facility with Action Against Hunger in Mangol Apuk, an area that is literally off the grid with no internet or cell phone connection. The goal of helping other people will always guide my work. 

I’ve witnessed firsthand how healthcare has transformed my community. My team and I are eight strong, and we oversee a wide variety of medical needs, from disease to malnutrition to maternal care. Our facilities provide as much support as possible and can refer patients to outside clinics depending on their needs. Currently, we’re in the middle of malaria season, and providing medicine to malaria patients is a critical part of care.

Without medicine and healthcare facilities, life-saving aid is not possible. All the helpers in the world can’t be effective without the right medicine, a clean building, safe water and other critical resources. I ask you to consider what it takes to provide for the vulnerable and help the helpers.

Today, my home village is once again peaceful. I will never forget the journey that brought me around the world and then back home. Helping people access safe healthcare is my passion, and doing it in South Sudan is my greatest life’s work. 

Dr Anei Piol Gegdit is a Clinical Officer for Action Against Hunger in South Sudan.

.
.