Photo: An MSF physiotherapist works in one of Misrata’s detention centers, where MSF is suspending operations. Libya 2011 © MSF
MSF teams began working in Misrata’s detention centers in August, 2011, to treat war-wounded detainees. Since then, MSF doctors had been increasingly confronted with patients who suffered injuries caused by torture during interrogation sessions. The interrogations were held outside the detention centers. In total, MSF treated 115 people who had torture-related wounds.
The organization reported all the cases to the relevant authorities in Misrata. Since January, several of the patients returned to interrogation centers were again tortured. MSF medical teams were also asked to treat patients inside the interrogation centers, which the organization categorically refused.
The most alarming case occurred on January 3, when MSF doctors treated a group of 14 detainees who returned to a detention facility from an interrogation center. Despite previous MSF demands for the immediate end of torture, 9 of the 14 detainees had suffered numerous injuries and displayed obvious signs of torture.
The MSF team informed the National Army Security Service—the agency responsible for interrogations—that a number of patients needed to be transferred to hospitals for urgent and specialized care. All but one of the detainees were again deprived of essential medical care and were subjected to renewed interrogations and torture outside the detention centers.
Patients were brought to us in the middle of interrogation for medical care, in order to make them fit for further interrogation. This is unacceptable. Our role is to provide medical care to war casualties and sick detainees, not to repeatedly treat the same patients between torture sessions.
Patient testimony of a man, 39, who was shot in the arm during the attack on Pibor on December 31, 2011:
When the attack happened on my village, we fled into the bush with no food, just water for the small children. I was shot in the arm and hid in the bush with my wound for eight days. So much blood was coming out. Sometimes I would just sleep without knowing it. At night it was so painful I couldn’t sleep. It took me another three days to walk to the hospital.
I was lucky. They didn’t find my family when I was shot because they ran ahead and entered the river, keeping just their mouths open out of the water to breathe, hiding the rest of themselves under the water. You might be found if you hide in the bush, but if you’re under the water they won’t find you.
In my community, some have been killed. Many are still missing. We don’t know if they are dead or not—we saw some who were killed. There are children who have been taken.
We are very happy MSF is here—we thought MSF would not operate again because everything was looted. We were afraid you would not come back. If MSF wasn’t here, I would not feel better. Maybe I would have died.
My home has been burnt to the ground, all of it, everything. I don’t know if I can go back home—because so many are missing, many are dead. We want to go back to cultivate maize and sorghum for the children, but now there is nothing there.
Those who are still alive, what do they think about all this death, the missing? Many are still crying, still looking for their missing children and wives. How can we think about our future?
Civilians continue to bear the brunt of extreme inter-communal violence in Jonglei state in South Sudan. More on the situation there.
Photo: © Heather Whalen/MSF
If nothing is done, it is highly likely that the 15,000 people currently on the waiting list and in urgent need of ARV drugs will be dead within three years. As horrifying as that number is, it represents only the tip of the iceberg when you realize that most people living with HIV/AIDS in DRC do not know their HIV status. Many will die in silence and neglect.
I have worked with HIV-positive patients in many countries in central and southern Africa, but what I’m seeing in the Democratic Republic of Congo has not existed elsewhere for years. The situation here reminds me of the time before any antiretroviral (ARV) treatment was available. Our doctors face serious complications every day that could be prevented if patients received early ARV treatment.
Patient testimony of a 24-year-old woman who was shot in the leg and the cheek during the attack on Lekwongole on December 27, 2011, when her three-year-old daughter, her only child, was abducted:
Our village was one of the first to be attacked. Three women, including me, ran with our children—my own three-year-old daughter and two of their boys 10 and 11 years old. We could only carry water with us for the children, no food, no clothes, nothing.
We ran and tried to hide in the high grass when we heard them approaching. But they heard my child crying so they found us three women and the three children. They abducted my child and slit the throats of the two boys in front of us. They told us three women to run—we ran 10 meters and they started shooting. The other two women were killed right away. I was shot in the leg so I fell down. They came over to me and shot me in the head to make sure I was dead and left me there for dead. But the bullet just went through my cheek, so I survived. I crawled to the river to take water and stayed there alone for seven days, in much pain. I didn’t know where my family was or what had happened to my daughter, my only child.
On the eighth day, I couldn’t stay there alone anymore so I used a stick to get up and walked for two hours until I came across neighbors who cared for me for seven days. They told me that my mother was missing. Then they left to inform my family where I was. I was alone again for two days. I crawled again to the river to take water. Then my husband’s brother found me and carried me for three days to Lekwongole. I couldn’t walk, I was so tired, and it was very painful.
Then MSF returned to Lekwongole and drove me to Pibor. I found out the next day that my mother was not just missing, she was dead. I felt so lonely. My mother is dead, yes, but at least if my child was still with me I would be okay. But I’m not okay. I don’t even know what happened to my child.
From my family, 10 people have been killed—four women and six men. From my husband’s family, eight people have been killed. They also abducted my sister’s son, who is six years old. It is very painful because my whole family has been killed. My only child has been taken—I feel so alone and it’s very painful.
For the future, if I get something to work with then I will, but only God knows. People are just stuck here with nothing now.
Civilians continue to bear the brunt of extreme inter-communal violence in Jonglei state in South Sudan. More on the situation there.
Photo: © Heather Whalen/MSF
We scattered. They shot me in my thigh and my baby was hanging on my back. I tried to hide in the high grass but they found me because my baby was crying. They started beating my daughter until she kept quiet. They left us behind thinking we were dead.
Civilians continue to bear the brunt of extreme inter-communal violence in Jonglei state in South Sudan. A recurring characteristic of the attacks is their extreme violence.
This woman was treated by MSF in Pibor said she had fled to the bush with her husband, children, and 15 other family members. After running for eleven hours, they were found by a group of men who shot at them. Her son was also treated by MSF for a bullet wound to the chest that remarkably did not kill him.
One of my patients was a young boy who had heart problems. He was not long for this world, but I spent time dancing with him. I think what we provided this boy was a sense of stability, a sense of support, and some palliative care. What I’ve had to learn with MSF is that sometimes you can dig as deep as you can and find out as much as you can, clinically speaking, only to learn that all you can do is hang out and provide a moment of fun for your patient.
Within an hour, my bag was packed.
Men assist a girl disembarking at a transit camp in Liberia for people from the Ivory Coast who fled post-election violence in their homeland and sought sanctuary across the border, where MSF worked to provide medical care. See more of The Year in Pictures 2011.
Photo: Liberia © Gaël Turine
On any given day, more than 27,000 committed individuals representing dozens of nationalities can be found providing assistance to people caught in crises around the world. They are doctors, nurses, logistics experts, administrators, epidemiologists, laboratory technicians, mental health professionals, and others who work together in accordance with MSF’s guiding principles of humanitarian action and medical ethics.
MSF field staff are supported by their colleagues in 19 offices around the world, including one in New York City. The vast majority of MSF’s aid workers are from the communities where the crises are occurring, with ten percent of teams made up of international staff. Read more about MSF.
Photo: Somalia 2009 © MSF
Demonstrators in Delhi, India, protest against proposed provisions for a free-trade agreement between India and the EU that would limit access to lifesaving generic medicines in the developing world.
MSF spoke out for neglected patients in 2011 by waging campaigns for better practices around childhood malnutrition, for greater access to medicines for those who need them most, for the medical needs that exist in ever-expanding slums, and more.
Photo: India © Rico Gustva/APN+
A 20-year-old woman who’d lived in the north but returned to the south ahead of independence cares for her malnourished baby at Aweil Hospital in Northern Bahr El Ghazal State.
MSF treated hundreds of thousands of people in South Sudan, which officially became the world’s newest nation in July. But the hopes of its people were tempered by poverty, displacement, and vast medical needs, all of which are exacerbated by widespread insecurity on both sides of the border with Sudan.
Photo: South Sudan © Q. Sakamaki/Redux
This mother and child—and this part of Mogadishu—show the toll of the overlapping political, security, and public health crises in Somalia, which have put an immense burden on women and children.
Years marked by conflict, drought, and a profound lack of governance culminated in a massive humanitarian crisis in the second half of 2011, to which MSF responded by expanding its programs in Somalia and for the huge numbers of Somali refugees who sought aid in Kenya and Ethiopia.
Photo: Somalia © Lynsey Addario/VII
This week, we’re making our Google+ page into a hub of information about working in the field with Doctors Without Borders. Go here to post your questions.
Photo: Following floods that displaced a great many people in Pakistan’s Sindh Province, MSF ran mobile clinics to provide care in affected areas. Pakistan © P.K. Lee/MSF