Hawa Abdi: Many people -- 20 years for Somalia -- [were] fighting. So there was no job, no food. Children, most of them, became very malnourished, like this. Deqo Mohamed: So as you know, always in a civil war, the ones affected most [are] the women and children. So our patients are women and children. And they are in our backyard. It's our home. We welcome them. That's the camp that we have in now 90,000 people, where 75 percent of them are women and children. Pat Mitchell: And this is your hospital. This is the inside. HA: We are doing C-sections and different operations because people need some help. There is no government to protect them. DM: Every morning we have about 400 patients, maybe more or less. But sometimes we are only five doctors and 16 nurses, and we are physically getting exhausted to see all of them. But we take the severe ones, and we reschedule the other ones the next day. It is very tough. And as you can see, it's the women who are carrying the children; it's the women who come into the hospitals; it's the women [are] building the houses. That's their house. And we have a school. This is our bright -- we opened [in the] last two years [an] elementary school where we have 850 children, and the majority are women and girls. (Applause) PM: And the doctors have some very big rules about who can get treated at the clinic. Would you explain the rules for admission? HA: The people who are coming to us, we are welcoming. We are sharing with them whatever we have. But there are only two rules. First rule: there is no clan distinguished and political division in Somali society. [Whomever] makes those things we throw out. The second: no man can beat his wife. If he beat, we will put [him] in jail, and we will call the eldest people. Until they identify this case, we'll never release him. That's our two rules. (Applause) The other thing that I have realized, that the woman is the most strong person all over the world. Because the last 20 years, the Somali woman has stood up. They were the leaders, and we are the leaders of our community and the hope of our future generations. We are not just the helpless and the victims of the civil war. We can reconcile. We can do everything. (Applause) DM: As my mother said, we are the future hope, and the men are only killing in Somalia. So we came up with these two rules. In a camp with 90,000 people, you have to come up with some rules or there is going to be some fights. So there is no clan division, and no man can beat his wife. And we have a little storage room where we converted a jail. So if you beat your wife, you're going to be there. (Applause) So empowering the women and giving the opportunity -- we are there for them. They are not alone for this. PM: You're running a medical clinic. It brought much, much needed medical care to people who wouldn't get it. You're also running a civil society. You've created your own rules, in which women and children are getting a different sense of security. Talk to me about your decision, Dr. Abdi, and your decision, Dr. Mohamed, to work together -- for you to become a doctor and to work with your mother in these circumstances. HA: My age -- because I was born in 1947 -- we were having, at that time, government, law and order. But one day, I went to the hospital -- my mother was sick -- and I saw the hospital, how they [were] treating the doctors, how they [are] committed to help the sick people. I admired them, and I decided to become a doctor. My mother died, unfortunately, when I was 12 years [old]. Then my father allowed me to proceed [with] my hope. My mother died in [a] gynecology complication, so I decided to become a gynecology specialist. That's why I became a doctor. So Dr. Deqo has to explain. DM: For me, my mother was preparing [me] when I was a child to become a doctor, but I really didn't want to. Maybe I should become an historian, or maybe a reporter. I loved it, but it didn't work. When the war broke out -- civil war -- I saw how my mother was helping and how she really needed the help, and how the care is essential to the woman to be a woman doctor in Somalia and help the women and children. And I thought, maybe I can be a reporter and doctor gynecologist. (Laughter) So I went to Russia, and my mother also, [during the] time of [the] Soviet Union. So some of our character, maybe we will come with a strong Soviet background of training. So that's how I decided [to do] the same. My sister was different. She's here. She's also a doctor. She graduated in Russia also. (Applause) And to go back and to work with our mother is just what we saw in the civil war -- when I was 16, and my sister was 11, when the civil war broke out. So it was the need and the people we saw in the early '90s -- that's what made us go back and work for them. PM: So what is the biggest challenge working, mother and daughter, in such dangerous and sometimes scary situations? HA: Yes, I was working in a tough situation, very dangerous. And when I saw the people who needed me, I was staying with them to help, because I [could] do something for them. Most people fled abroad. But I remained with those people, and I was trying to do something -- [any] little thing I [could] do. I succeeded in my place. Now my place is 90,000 people who are respecting each other, who are not fighting. But we try to stand on our feet, to do something, little things, we can for our people. And I'm thankful for my daughters. When they come to me, they help me to treat the people, to help. They do everything for them. They have done what I desire to do for them. PM: What's the best part of working with your mother, and the most challenging part for you? DM: She's very tough; it's most challenging. She always expects us to do more. And really when you think [you] cannot do it, she will push you, and I can do it. That's the best part. She shows us, trains us how to do and how to be better [people] and how to do long hours in surgery -- 300 patients per day, 10, 20 surgeries, and still you have to manage the camp -- that's how she trains us. It is not like beautiful offices here, 20 patients, you're tired. You see 300 patients, 20 surgeries and 90,000 people to manage. PM: But you do it for good reasons. (Applause) Wait. Wait. HA: Thank you. DM: Thank you. (Applause) HA: Thank you very much. DM: Thank you very much.
V Somaliji se že 20 let številni ljudje vojskujejo. Zato ni bilo služb, ni bilo hrane. Večina otrok je podhranjenih, kot tale. Kakor veste, so v državljanski vojni najbolj prizadeti ženske in otroci. Zato so naši pacienti ženske in otroci. Prebivajo na našem dvorišču. To je naš dom, kjer so dobrodošli. V našem kampu imamo ta trenutek 90.000 ljudi, od katerih je 75 % žensk in otrok. To je vaša bolnišnica, njena notranjost. Delamo carske reze in druge operacije, kajti ljudje potrebujejo pomoč. Ni vlade, ki bi jih zaščitila. Vsako jutro pride okoli 400 bolnikov, morda več, morda manj. Včasih nas je le pet zdravnikov in 16 medicinskih sester, pregledi nas fizično izčrpajo. Sprejmemo resne primere, ostale prenaročimo na naslednji dan. Zelo je težko. Kot vidite, so ženske tiste, ki nosijo otroke, ženske pridejo v bolnišnico, ženske so zgradile hiše. To so njihove hiše. Imamo šolo. To so naše svetle ... V zadnjih dveh letih smo odprli osnovno šolo, kamor hodi 850 otrok, večinoma žensk in deklic. (Aplavz) Zdravniki so določili nekaj pravil o tem, kdo se lahko zdravi na kliniki. Nam razložite pravila za sprejem? Ljudje, ki pridejo k nam, so dobrodošli. Z njimi delimo to, kar imamo. Imamo le dve pravili. Prvo pravilo: v somalski družbi ni razlik med klani in ni politične delitve. Kdor to počne, ga vržemo ven. Drugo pravilo: noben moški ne sme pretepati žene. Če jo pretepa, ga zapremo in pokličemo naše staroste. Dokler ne razrešijo njegovega primera, ga ne izpustimo. To sta naši dve pravili. (Aplavz) Spoznala sem, da so ženske najmočnejše osebe po celem svetu. V zadnjih 20-ih letih se je somalska ženska dvignila. Bile so voditeljice; me smo voditeljice naše skupnosti in upanje za prihodnje generacije. Nismo nemočne in žrtve državljanske vojne. Lahko zgladimo spore. Vsega smo zmožne. (Aplavz) Kot je mati rekla, smo upanje za prihodnost. Moški so tisti, ki ubijajo v Somaliji. Zato smo določili ti dve pravili. V kampu z 90.000 ljudmi moraš imeti pravila, drugače pride do sporov. Ni klanske ureditve in noben moški ne sme pretepati svoje žene. Nekdanjo shrambo smo spremenili v zapor. Če pretepaš ženo, greš tja. (Aplavz) Dati moč ženskam, dati jim možnost - v podporo smo jim, niso same. Vodite kliniko, ki je prinesla prepotrebno medicinsko oskrbo ljudem, ki je drugače ne bi dobili. Vodite tudi civilno družbo. Imate svoja pravila, ki prinašajo ženskam in otrokom drugačen občutek varnosti. Povejta mi o vajini odločitvi, dr. Abdi in dr. Mohamed, da delata skupaj - o vaši odločitvi, da postanete zdravnica in delate z materjo v teh okoliščinah. Moja leta - kajti rojena sem leta 1947 - v tistem obdobju smo imeli vlado, zakon in red. Nekega dne sem šla v bolnišnico - moja mati je bila bolna - kjer sem videla, kako ravnajo z zdravniki, in kako so le-ti odločni, da bodo pomagali bolnim ljudem. Občudovala sem jih in se odločila, da postanem zdravnica. Moja mati je na žalost umrla, ko mi je bilo 12 let. Oče mi je nato dovolil, da sledim svojemu upanju. Mati je umrla zaradi zapleta pri ginekološkem posegu, zato sem se odločila, da postanem ginekolog. Zato sem postala zdravnica. Dr. Deqo bo razložila svojo odločitev. Že kot otroka me je mati pripravljala na poklic zdravnice, a tega v resnici nisem želela. Raje bi bila zgodovinarka ali novinarka. To sem imela rada, a se ni izšlo. Ko je izbruhnila državljanska vojna, sem videla mamo pomagati ljudem in kako resnično potrebuje pomoč, ker je oskrba nujna za ženske. Videla sem, kako je biti zdravnica v Somaliji ter pomagati ženskam in otrokom. Pomislila sem: morda sem lahko novinarka in ginekologinja. (Smeh) Šla sem v Rusijo, tako kot mati, v času Sovjetske Zveze. Del najinega karakterja morda izhaja iz stroge sovjetske šole. Tako sem se jaz odločila za isto pot. Moja sestra je drugačna. Danes je tukaj z nami. Tudi ona je zdravnica. Ravno tako je diplomirala v Rusiji. (Aplavz) Vrnili sva se, da bi delali z mamo zaradi tega, kar sva videli v državljanski vojni. Bilo mi je 16 let, moji sestri pa 11, ko je izbruhnila državljanska vojna. Potrebe ljudi, ki sva jih videli že v zgodnjih 90. letih, so naju pripravile do tega, da se vrneva in delava za ljudi. Kaj je torej največji izziv pri delu matere in hčere v teh nevarnih, včasih celo strašnih situacijah? Ja, delala sem v težkih situacijah, zelo nevarnih. Ko sem videla, da me ljudje potrebujejo, sem ostala, da bi jim pomagala, ker sem imela možnost nekaj narediti za njih. Večina ljudi je zbežala v tujino. Jaz pa sem ostala z ljudmi in skušala nekaj narediti, vsaj tisto malo, kar sem lahko. V mojem kraju mi je uspelo. V mojem kraju živi 90.000 ljudi, ki se spoštujejo, ki se ne vojskujejo. Poskušamo se postaviti na noge in nekaj narediti za naše ljudi. Hvaležna sem svojima hčerkama. Ko prideta k meni, mi pomagata zdraviti ljudi, v pomoč sta mi. Vse naredita za njih. Vse, kar sem želela od njiju, sta naredili. Kaj je najboljše pri delu z mamo in kaj je za vas najtežje? Zahtevna je, to je najtežje. Vedno pričakuje več od nas. Ko misliš, da ne moreš več, te porine - in vidim, da zmorem. To je najboljši del. Uči nas, kako naj delamo, kako naj bomo boljši ljudje in kako naj zdržimo dolge operacije. 300 pacientov na dan, 10, 20 operacij, poleg tega pa še upravljamo kamp. Tako nas uči. Nimamo lepih ordinacij kot vi tukaj, 20 pacientov in že ste utrujeni. Sprejmemo 300 ljudi, naredimo 20 operacij in še 90.000 ljudi nadziramo. Vendar to počnete iz dobrih razlogov. (Aplavz) Počakajta. Hvala. Hvala. (Aplavz) Najlepša hvala.