As Hospitals Close and Doctors Flee, Sudan’s Health Care System Is Collapsing
“I know I’m in danger in these areas,” he said, “but those sick, wounded people need me.”
At Al Nada, medical workers and their patients take cover multiple times a day under beds and tables, hiding from aerial bombardments and heavy artillery fire. Everyone is so jittery, said a doctor there, Mohamed Fath, that the sound of an oxygen canister being opened can send staff fleeing.
Early in the conflict, the management at Al Nada, a private facility, decided to treat only pregnant women and children in order to provide a haven for a small fraction of the more than 24,000 women who, according to the W.H.O., are expected to give birth in Sudan in the next few weeks.
In the weeks since the fighting began, 220 babies have been born there, and most have survived, Dr. Fath said.
One woman sped through active combat zones and barely made it to the emergency room, he said. Later, her husband showed Dr. Fath the bullet holes in his car. Another woman gave birth at home, but because of complications the baby needed urgent medical care. The mother and child were trapped in their home for days with artillery fire whizzing overhead, the doctor said. When they finally made it to the hospital, it was too late for the infant, who died.
“They have to go through this hell to get to the hospital,” Dr. Fath said.
Neighbors seeking care have taken to ringing Dr. Fath’s doorbell at home. Twice last week, he said, he pronounced two people dead in Omdurman Althawra, north of the city. Both were diabetics who ran out of insulin in a city where pharmacies have been ransacked and a medical black market is thriving.
Now, the doctor said, he spirits home medicine hidden in his car. But in neighborhoods that can quickly turn from ghost towns to active war zones, even the mile-long trip between the hospital and his home can imperil his life.
Before the war, Dr. Fath was filling out application forms to work in hospitals in South Africa, where he planned to specialize in pediatric neurology. But he and his wife, also a doctor, whose final exam was set for May 6, made the decision to stay.