Category Archives: politics

Here We Go Again

lilywhite

The past few month has seen a lot of talk about racism in the media. Particularly in relation to the Oscars. With it, a lot of eye rolling and people saying they are fed up of black people going on about discrimination and playing the race card. What about the Muslims, the gays, the transgender, the browns, the women, the poor? It is a constant source of irritation and sadness for me when these discussions kick off and people start shouting at each other. My first issue is no one wants to listen. This is why racism and the many other forms of discrimination continue to thrive in our societies. Societies that are ashamed to admit a lack of progress and would rather hide what they consider dirty laundry out of view. As if out of sight is really out of mind. Well, it is humanity’s shame and face it we must. Because if we don’t face it then we won’t ever fix it.

On the Oscar issue: yes, it is inherently racist. Why? Because up until recently, majority (94% according to many internet sources) of those who are eligible to nominate and vote for the winners are white and ¾ of those are men. Human nature, and this is evidence-based, is such that if a selection of talented actors/actresses/directors is presented to a person, the voter will look for common traits to identify with the nominees. The easiest trait to identify: skin colour, gender and other physical attributes. So stands to reason that if 94% are white, they are more likely to nominate and vote for white people. There was a blog by a young black woman who works in the entertainment industry published on mumsnet. The reaction was one that had my gnashing my teeth. Many (white, brown and black) suggested that it was not the correct forum for such a discussion. I was dismayed. If mothers are not the people who need to be educated about the ills of discrimination and who need to be encouraged to socialise their children into seeing beyond colour, then who exactly is going to be the catalyst for change?

mother and child

I cannot for the life of me see which other group yields more influence when it comes to such a fundamental change. As a soon to be mother, I see it as absolutely my job to teach my child to see the inner qualities of every person they interact with and judge them based on their actions and words and not the things over which they have no control over.

queue jump

In Nigeria, there is blatant racism still. The fairer your skin is, the more socially desirable you are in many circles. The more foreign your English accent, the more educated you are perceived to be. Being resident in Europe or America or Asia elevates your self-worth. Doesn’t matter if you do the most menial of jobs abroad or have very little education over there. I was born in Nigeria, left as a teenager and I have now officially spent more of my life outside of Nigeria then in it. I see the discrimination clearly. Sure I am a highly educated and successful professional but most of the strangers I interact with don’t know this. To many it is all superficial. I get asked my opinion on things that are well outside my area of expertise and even when I am confessing to having little knowledge, my opinion carries weight. I get better customer service because of the way I speak. I get less abuse from those who like to abuse their positions of power – the police, road safety, customs and immigration officers. When I go into shops run by foreigners, I watch how they treat ordinary Nigerians with barely disguised rudeness or contempt and how those Nigerians do not complain about it. I speak up sometimes to the surprise of those Nigerians and I get told I am ‘feisty or fiery or outspoken’ with amusement or admiration depending on the age of the Nigerian I am defending. I have been in situations where a non-black person has walked into the place, seen the queue of Nigerians waiting to be served and decided that their time was more valuable that the locals and cut to the front. I wait to see if the officials say anything, rarely will they ask for the person to do the right thing. If nothing is said, I am never afraid to tell the person that there is a queue and we were all in it.

The other manifestation is through skin bleaching. It is so prevalent in Nigeria and indeed many other societies. People, mostly women, spend a lot of money on creams and lotions containing dangerous toxins which ‘whiten’ their skin. Some of the more expensive products do a good job and give them fairer skin that looks natural and healthy. Most do not. It is so ugly to see the patchwork that results from some of these products. You see women prancing around with their face and neck a Caucasian skin tone, their arms brown and their joints black as nature intended. It is so unnatural that it sometimes looks like a comedic caricature. Sadly, for those who do it, they look in the mirror and think they look more beautiful. Heart breaking to me because some of the most superficially beautiful people on the planet are all shades of brown and black. There is nothing more beautiful to me than flawless golden or deeper brown skin. I see photos every day and wonder how those who bleach are unable to see the beauty in brown skin. Of course this is all about superficial beauty. Maybe that is where we fail. We are too preoccupied by the outer image and fail to see the beauty within. I truly believe that for a person to be truly beautiful, their soul, their heart and their mind must have a positive nature. That is why I find beauty in the eyes – a person whose eyes glow with love, happiness, kindness and warmth is a person I naturally gravitate towards.  That is why there is nothing more beautiful to me than a baby (human or other mammals). That luminosity that is unspoilt by life and its many hardships, that bright light.

name spelling

Here in England, racism is everywhere. I have a surname that has 3 syllables. Pronounced exactly as it is written yet many won’t even attempt to pronounce my surname. If I can get my head around Siobhan actually being pronounced as shee-von and Yvonne pronounced as Ee-von, then I do not see how it can be hard to say a name as easy as Ab-dal-lah or Jo-da or Di-ya. Working as a doctor on the wards, I have had patients say to me with surprise ‘you speak good English’ and I turn around and say to them ‘why wouldn’t I? English is one of 3 languages I was brought up speaking’. I overhear staff talking to non-native English speakers (those with foreign accents or limited English) very loudly, as if the issue is with hearing loss. I hear comments about those non-indigenous Brits being ungrateful for asking for what is routinely offered to their white British fellow patients. I see the relief in black and Asian patients when I say that I will be their doctor and I will look after them. I empathise with them even as I feel sad that I make them feel better not because of my medical skills but because of the colour of my skin and how they perceive that I can relate to them better or will treat them with more dignity.

I will never forget the first time I was racially discriminated against. I was in my 3rd year of medical school on my first hospital placement in an inner city English hospital working with a medical team. On the first on-call I did with them (on-call means being responsible for the new patients coming in off the streets as emergencies), I was seeing patients who were then reviewed by the qualified doctors. Of course, there is a triage system so medical students never saw patients who needed urgent care for things like an on-going  stroke, heart attack or acute asthma that needed immediate treatment before information gathering. Anyway, I was allocated an elderly Asian gentleman to see. I walked into the cubicle and introduced myself, clearly explaining that I would see the patient then get one of the doctors on my team to review. The patient did not protest but his 2 sons were affronted. They, in their high-powered suits, did not think it was appropriate for their father to be seen by me. They wanted someone else. I got my registrar and told him what they had said. He, being Asian like them, was angrier than I was. He marched me back to the patient and his family, informed them that I was part of the team and as this was the NHS, they would be seen by the first available medic. Their choice was me or going private. How awkward for me and the patient! They apologised and I got through the consultation. This happened 10 years ago and happens to this day. I applaud my registrar for his stance and anecdotally, it is happening less and less because people like that registrar were calling people out for their attitudes.

random search

I spoke in another post about the attitude the police have when they stop you as a black person. The approach is usually quite different – the black person is more likely to be treated as guilty of some wrong-doing until proven otherwise even where you are the victim reporting a crime whereas the white person is more likely to be treated as innocent until proven otherwise. Same as when you go into a shop, a security man (or woman) is more likely to follow around a non-white person than a white person. Same as ‘random’ extra security stop searches in the airports. Once, I got stopped for a random search twice in 10 minutes in Birmingham International Airport less than 100m apart. I was irritated and the lady was apologetic and wouldn’t meet my eyes. I pointed out to her that her colleague had just stopped me randomly too and in fact he was only a stone’s throw away. What was it she thought would have changed in the distance to her? It is a random search ma’am. Randomly because I am black you mean. She flushed and muttered an apology as I gathered my bags and carried on. Random. Racial profiling is reality.

So whilst I know that majority of white people are not actively racist, just as I know that majority of Muslims are not extremists, it is clear that as a black woman, I have more obstacles to contend with. Life is just that little bit harder because I was born with the colour of my skin. I ask for no special treatment. I just want to be treated the same as my non-black friends are. I want to be treated with respect and given my dues. I want people to judge me for what I have said and done (which I have control over) and not the genetics I have inherited. I want my talents to be recognised for what they are and not the physical package they come with. I want the same rights afforded to me by virtue of being a human being. I want justice. I want acceptance. I want to freedom to be me.

The Power of Dreams

My aunty forwarded one of those inspiring videos about life and happiness. One particular message struck me. It said something about having a dream then making it happen. Of course, it is easier said than done. It is not quite that easy to turn a dream into reality but those people who are the happiest are those who had a dream then put their all into making it a reality. I have many dreams. Through hard work and luck, many of my dreams are already a reality. I got into medical school, I graduated. I applied and got into speciality training and I am gaining experience as a paediatrician. I met a man with a big heart, fell in love and married him. We bought our lovely first home, a permanent abode after my many years of moving from flat to flat.  I fell pregnant when we were in good place and the baby has been growing well with the easiest pregnancy. I am getting ready to realise one of my biggest dreams – giving birth and being a mother. So yes, my bucket is overflowing.

This is about my professional dream.  I used to think I would be happy to graduate, specialise as a paediatrician, get a consultant post and settle down to a routine. With the recent political shenanigans and the more I work in the NHS, the more I realise I want more. I want more out of my life and I also want to contribute more than the daily grind. Don’t get me wrong, I know in my current role I do make a difference to lives. There is nothing more satisfying that when I have done a good job and I know that parent or child’s life has been changed for the better, no matter how small that change is. However, many days I look back after a busy day and think was that worth it? Those days which are all about paperwork and administrative tick-boxing exercises that contribute nothing except to some faceless manager’s satisfaction.

The part of the world where my life started (Yola) is lovely in a lot of ways but there is a significant poverty. In terms of economics but also in healthcare terms. Nigeria as a whole fails to cater to the healthcare needs of its population unless you have lots of money to go private. The North-East of Nigeria is one of the poorest when you look at health outcomes. In particular, looking at childhood. The statistics (where there are any) are shocking. Nigeria, for all its wealth, regularly features at the bottom of tables for health outcomes. We are in the bottom 5 for most outcomes including maternal and under 5 morbidity and mortality. For the non-medics reading this, morbidity refers to how much ill-health and disease (sickness there is) there is and mortality refers to how many are dying.

Mothers naturally should come in a low-risk group. Most should be healthy young women doing what is most natural – getting pregnant, growing a baby and then delivering the baby. Young children, although fragile because they are not mature yet biologically are despite all of that resilient on the whole and have bodies that are full of strong healthy organs with endless potential for healing. What we are failing to provide is basic care. Basic antenatal care, trained birthing assistants, hospitals to assist in difficult deliveries and facilities for emergency caesarean sections (surgery) for those women who cannot do it naturally. Infections, on the whole preventable and most totally treatable, cause a lot of the morbidity and mortality in Nigeria. Many of the other things we provide here in the NHS is simple supportive care, allowing patients own bodies to heal themselves in a secure environment.

So here is my dream. I would like to set up a women’s and children’s health centre. Big dream I hear you say. Yes, I am aware. It will be a huge task. I worked at the FMC in Yola for 4 months in 2012. I saw how much need there was and the things that were missing. I know a lot of the patients we couldn’t help were those who lived far away from town and did not come to us until their disease was too advanced for us to be able to do anything. Mothers died in childbirth because they did not have adequate antenatal care so predictable problems were not discovered until it was too late. Preterm babies died because they were born out of hospital in environments not hygienic enough and did not get simple breathing and feeding support and early treatment with antibiotics. Term babies were born too small because their mothers were undernourished and unwell with treatable conditions during pregnancy but were not diagnosed and treated. Very few of the patients we couldn’t help needed fancy expensive medicines or surgery. It was simply too little too late.

On the positive side, those that did come to us in time had better outcomes than those suggested by the statistics I read about on WHO and the likes. Those preterm babies born at FMC Yola thrived and majority survived until discharge. Sure, their progress was slower than here in the NHS because of a lack of basic equipment and provisions like oxygen and breathing support, working incubators, labs, fluid pumps, parenteral nutrition for those too young to feed by mouth or through the stomach. But survive they did because they are little fighters.

So what I dream is to provide all those basic things to the mothers, babies and children free of charge if I can manage to raise funds or at the very least at the smallest prices possible to give those with little the chance to quality healthcare. To go with that, I would like to provide an outreach service to those isolated villages. Run clinics, provide immunisations, antenatal vitamins and nutritional support, teach about prevention of infections and when it is vital to seek early medical help. Central to that idea is to train some of the villagers to provide safe simple birthing assistance, supportive care for new-borns and how to diagnose and treat the most common infections and provide first aid. All little things but added up should cut the numbers of mothers and children suffering unnecessarily and prevent the many preventable deaths.

My grandfather listened to me talking about my dream and was (rather unexpectedly) downbeat about it. He pointed out that it wasn’t as easy as I was making out. Actually, I know it will be difficult to do and as I have never done this before, it is a monumental task. There is so much to do to get this off the ground. However, here is my plan. I will start small and do this project in stages. I will deal with the complications as I get to them. A journey of a thousand miles has to start with that first step. I have taken my first step. I have dared to dream and I have written down my dream in black and white. Now onwards and upwards. Watch this space.

Mind the Gap

I watched a BBC documentary on The Taj Mahal Palace, one of the best hotels in the world located in Mumbai according to the documentary. It certainly looked the part. The opulence and the service was certainly worth the thousands a stay would set you back by. This struck me but what struck me more was the homeless families who made their home outside the walls of the hotel. The poor women who sold recycled flowers to make enough to feed their children. Where were the men who fathered those children I wondered? If the Taj was so successful, couldn’t it be charitable enough to feed its resident poor? How could the guests stand to walk (or more likely drive) in past those poor wretches into such luxury?

This sort of wealth inequity is replicated all over the world of course. The less industrialised the nation, the more likely you are to see scenes like these replicated. In Yola where I come from, this is very much in evidence. It is not unusual to see a huge mansion complete with high surrounding walls, an impressive iron gate manned by gatemen and perfectly manicured hedges sitting next to a hut, little more than a lean-to with dry barren land surrounding it and the inhabitant(s) unable to afford 3 square meals and clean drinking water.

When I was little, we would have bouts of feeling charitable and go visit one of those poor homes. Most of them are inhabited by single old women. Some were called witches because of their social isolation or maybe because of their disdain for some of our archaic cultural norms. Many are just poor and alone, without a benefactor to lift them out of abject poverty. A good proportion were quite old and really did need a hand. My friend and I would go in and give their hut a spring clean, refill their water pots (their lounde) and clear out accumulated rubbish. We would leave with their prayers for us and our mothers ringing in our ears. These women managed because they had neighbours like us who would go in periodically and help out.

That is one thing I love about Yola. By Yola I mean Yola town. Not the metropolis that is Jimeta which has lost most of its old school community (or maybe being ‘new’ never got a chance to form the same bonds). No one can deny that poverty is pervasive in the society there but actually, so is charity. It is imbedded in our culture to look after our neighbours. No one in Yola that I know of has ever died of starvation (malnourishment is a different kettle of fish). If your neighbour struggles to find a meal, they could simply turn up at meal times and they would get fed.

I remember one of our dear matriarchs who had little herself always fed more than just herself and her dependents. We always had food to eat at hers even though she was poor herself. When we went to see her before we went off to boarding school, she would ask for forgiveness (in case she died before we came back) and forgive us any infractions then she would rummage under her mat and give us some of her precious savings so we could buy something. We would demure unfailingly but we also knew we had to take it. Because not to take it would be seen as disrespectful and a sign we did not value her loving gesture.

This was 2 decades ago. Things are changing but charity is still very much alive. I am not sure whether the local children are still doing what we did back then but I sincerely hope so. Especially because as religion and politics become more and more of an issue and many of those in our communities claim to be religious. Well then. If that is true, true poverty should never be an issue. Islamically, Zakat is part of our core duties, one of the 5 pillars of Islam.

“Be steadfast in prayer and regular in charity: And whatever good ye send forth for your souls before you, ye shall find it with Allah”                                        Qur’an Chapter 2 Verse 110

For any Muslim who can afford to support their living themselves and have something left over, they should donate 2.5% of their wealth to those who are in need. This is Zakat. Imagine if in a society like Nigeria where an estimated 50% of the population (87 million) are Muslims. Now imagine that about half of them can afford to pay Zakat. If even half of those (20 million) contributed 2.5% of their wealth to a community fund that was well-managed, things would be so different. So I challenge the practising Muslims who preach all things good to sit up and remember this core duty of ours. More than a billion Muslims across the globe, a good proportion with enough wealth to alleviate poverty all around them. Let’s do it people!

Champion the Truth

If you don’t live in the UK, you may have missed the junior doctor contract row that has been brewing for a few years but has escalated over the last couple of months. If you live in the UK and rely on major media outlets to keep you informed, you may think the dispute is about junior doctors asking for more money. I would suggest you turn to social media for more accurate information from doctors, other NHS staff and more importantly their families. Long and short of it is that the dispute is about our Government deciding we junior doctors need to work longer hours whilst our pay is cut and refusing to do the simple arithmetic that would show that if you want more junior doctors working around the clock, you need to recruit more of them because we are already working long hours and we absolutely will not do me as it would put our lives and the lives of patients that we hold so importantly at risk. I mean, how is it fair that the Government has voted to pay its MPs more and they can still claim vast amounts on expenses yet the very same Government says we have no money in the coffers to pay for more junior doctors? Isn’t that ridiculous???

I digress, please read up on Facebook, twitter and blogs writing on the issue. Plenty of truth out there is you care. The baseline is that at least half of the junior doctors who have voiced their opinions have stated either that they have made up their minds to quit the NHS or are at the very least, looking into alternate careers or going abroad. The simple truth is we as a group of junior doctors think the bottom line is that the Tories have vested interest to tear down the NHS and privatise our healthcare and hence line their pockets. There is also strong evidence out there that the current fool we call our Health Secretary has been a champion of NHS privatisation for many years and probably owns share in private health insurance conglomerates like Virgin Health.

This blog is actually about the one good thing that has come from this attack on junior doctors. We now have an online Facebook forum called Junior Doctors Forum which is by invitation only. It has 63,000 members and counting. Not all of them are junior doctors. We have consultants, medical students, nurses, midwives, paramedics and other allied healthcare professionals plus a few lawyers, journalists and even politicians about the forum. What I want to do is big up the passion of those on the forum and champion them sticking to their guns and being honest about how they feel and what this is doing to us as a group. Never has there been so much unity within the profession. Medicine is a very hierarchical and competitive profession and although we all start as one, we generally sub-divide as we become more senior and choose specialisation programmes. Our world then shrinks even further so all we know is related to the one field eventually. Our only contact with the outside specialities is if they are part of the multi-disciplinary team that we need to make sure each patient’s care is optimal with the inclusion of all relevant expertise.

So it is all good news though? No. Unfortunately when you get 63,000 opinionated voices with the top 1% in terms of IQ and ability to rationalise, debate and analyse, you get varying opinions. I am all for freedom of speech and embracing our differences. However, as with all other aspects of life, some are excessively worried about how other people interpret our opinions. An article was published based around a discussion we had on the forum and people are getting all uppity about all coming across professional and un-emotional. Why? If this was about professionalism only, we would all continue our stony silence whilst we get attacked as we give our all for the greater good. This time, we have stood up and shouted NO because not only have they attacked us (we have thick skin because of the nature of being medics who take enormous responsibilities day in, day out) but they are threatening the very fabric of the health of our nation. Their proposals are not only ensuring that many of us want to leave because we choose life and living than putting ourselves in danger from physical and mental exhaustion, they are also meaning that we are now less willing to carry on doing extra unpaid hours for no thanks.

The NHS has been running on the goodwill of its junior doctors for a very long time and things have been in a steady decline for the past decade yet this is the first year that doctors have threatened to strike. We love the NHS and have been carrying its weight to the detriment of our mental, physical and psychosocial health for far too long. This is the straw that will break the camel’s veritable back. It is because we are passionate that we are fighting the proposed changes which may start with junior doctors but we all know will extend to the rest of the hardworking staff the NHS is lucky to have as its employees. How then can anyone ask that we lie about how angry and betrayed we feel? How upset we are that we are being made to reconsider our futures? Whether we can afford to have children and continue to be there for our patients? How the lies of Hunt et al are demoralising us? How we don’t feel it is worth it anymore to carry on in the NHS when all we get for breaking our backs for a pittance (£11/hr 6 years after graduating for me compared to a plumber who can earn up to £50/hr) is abuse and an Etonian ignoramus vilifying us for caring.

Well, I am here to say that no. I will not be unemotional. If I didn’t care for the NHS, I would have quit after my first foundation year when I became a fully licenced medical practitioner. If all I care for was the money, I would be abroad today with a private clinic, dictating my hours and pay. If I didn’t care, I would not be attending protests and spending what little I have left over after my living expenses and medicolegal expenses on supportive merchandise. I care and I am not afraid to show it.

Hunt is only the face of the Tory campaign to break the NHS and leave privatisation as its only viable option. The Tory Government is libellous, dishonest, spineless and un-democratic. If the general public continues to buy the bullshit the Government is peddling, it will be the British public who will pay the price in the next few years. So unless you are all dying with something that will kill you with certainty in the next couple of years, wake up and realise facts. Fact is the NHS as we know it will be no more unless the whole of the British public fights this. Just google how much it’d cost you to pay for your health insurance in the US and imagine the UK going the same. Doctors are in hot demand the world over. We can and will be forced to leave the UK and the NHS is this horror continues and we will be fine. I assure you. So the fact that I am getting emotional is not because I am a greedy lazy overpaid privileged posh kid as Hunt and co would have you believe. It is because I care and I am not afraid to show it. Fact!

Open Letter to David Cameron – Our Silent PM

This was written by the father of a UK doctor. He lives in Sweden but is speaking out to save our NHS. If you share his sentiments. Reblog or share my link. Please.

Sir,
Your silence in the matter of the NHS and Junior doctors is conspicuous and indicates your silent approval of the Health Secretary and his policies.

This is not a matter only between Mr. Jeremy Hunt, the NHS, and junior doctors. In fact, this concerns everyone, from a child yet to be born to the elderly person counting the last breath and every one in between. Therefore your intervention is of vital importance to the national interest.

It is also very painful to see how ruthlessly and insensitively you treat the elite youth of your society. The youth who have chosen to indulge in the service of people of your nation, day and night, ignoring their own comfort and social life. They are the foundation of health and wellbeing of your nation of which, I am sure, you are proud of.

I have seen the plight of junior doctors. They are working day and night, have no control over their week-ends or holidays, when on call they have to be available for up to 48 hours. They cannot think of taking leave irrespective of personal urgency. In spite of all this they are single-mindedly devoted to their duties and responsibilities and have never asked for a pay rise. They are just short of being slave driven. To add ridicule and insult to their calibre, Mr. Jeremy Hunt wants to reduce their pay and increase their working hours (while informing the public he is doing the opposite). All the while he has been projecting them as greedy and an unwilling work-force. You are watching all this silently.

The fact is that junior doctors are tired, fatigued, exhausted, demoralised and yet they stand erect and defend the health system of your nation.

I will spare myself the energy and assume that you know more than I can ever explain. You will be well versed on the internal workings of your own government, therefore, I will draw your attention to a few things which might have escaped your attention. I do not think that this has escaped the attention of Jeremy Hunt because it appears his is a well calculated mission.

First, all signs suggest that you want to privatize the NHS. If that is so, you should come out boldly and declare to the public that you want to do so. Firing the gun from the shoulders of the junior doctors and blaming them is not graceful nor is it worthy of a strong Government. The public who have placed you in the high office have the right to know your plans rather than manipulations. If your Government succeeds, cutting the pay of junior doctors and increasing their working hours, junior doctors will survive in one way or another. However, the entire population of your country will suffer. I do not think that they will forget nor forgive. Therefore, before you dismantle the NHS, it is imperative that you rethink your plans because the health and wellbeing of your country depends on it, and for this, you are directly answerable – even in the future.

Second, the Health Secretary has succeeded in downgrading and vilifying the medical profession as much as possible. Once again, you are a silent witness to this. He has taken away all the motivation and incentive from bright and elite students of your schools and colleges to choose the medical profession. If he is allowed to succeed further, you might find medical colleges left wanting for students. That would create an enormous shortage of qualified and quality doctors in the long run and an ever increasing burden on the health service.

Thirdly, if you and Mr. Jeremy Hunt succeed in privatising the NHS – I can see how this could be the interest of Mr. Jeremy Hunt. Your previous health secretary Mr. Lansley, has recently take a role in a company who is promoting privatisation of The NHS.

If The NHS is short of funds (and we know it is, through systematic underfunding by the government), it is not the fault of junior doctors. On the contrary they have to work even harder without adequate machines, equipment and staff. It is a simple case of mismanagement of finances and mismanagement of administration. Instead of pointing the gun toward the junior doctors – who are the weakest link in the chain of NHS hierarchy – aim your guns at cleaning and pruning the financial management of NHS. Look deeply into it as to why The NHS is in this position.

There are 53000 junior doctors. They are working for at least double that number. Each doctor is giving you output for at least two doctors. Instead of motivating them, patting them on the back, and incentivising them, you want to pull the carpet from under their feet so that all of them tumble down. More worryingly, you are willing to do this on the whims of a few people who may not think beyond their own interests at the cost of the health of your entire nation.

Your junior doctors are dedicated, hardworking and responsible. They are the future specialists, researchers and innovators. They are the backbone of the health system of your country. Give them the respect they deserve. Give them the motivation and sense of worth. Applaud them for having chosen the medical profession.

I have seen them working with dedication and without complaining in spite of all the hardships they face as my son is one of 53000 junior doctors.

This letter is the voice of 106000 parents who are proud of their children and their devotion to the service of people.

Best regards,
Anil Bhatnagar

Save Our NHS!

Sharing this from a doctor’s facebook wall with permission because she says it better than I could express through the mounting frustration and despair I feel.

“I would like to tell you what the NHS means to me. It means that as a doctor. I get to think about what my patients need, and what is best for them. I get to think about that, above all else. Because my patients are someone’s daughter, someone’s wife, someone’s mother, someone’s mentor, someone’s shoulder to cry on, someone’s friend. I get to value their life over all else.

I love that. I love that when I’m driving down a busy street at rush hour, and an ambulance with blue lights and sirens wailing, presents itself to this mass of people on the road – people with jobs to get to, meetings to attend, events to arrive at, exams to sit – not one of them stops in the middle of the road and refuses to let the ambulance pass.
Not one of them thinks their schedule is more important than the stranger in the back of the ambulance, fighting for their life. They, the general public, the person on the street, the people of Britain, value a stranger’s life above everything else at that moment. I love that. I love the humanity.

Jeremy Hunt says, he wants us to provide a 24 hour NHS. I think thats fantastic. I am pretty sure I have already worked every hour of every conceivable day to make up the 24/7 ideal. I work bank holidays and public holidays and religious holidays. I work often right up until I need to leave to catch a train to a graduation or a wedding. Sometimes I have an Emergnecy and I work past that. And I send my apologies and I lose my tickets. Because the person I am working on matters. Because I value their life over all else at that moment in time.

I think a 24/7 service is wonderful. It’s the dream. It’s like dubai at night. Or New York always. The service that never sleeps. I mean. I never sleep. Not on call. But, yes, sure, things can be delayed. It takes longer for one doctor to see 80 patients at night, than it does for a team of 4 to see them during the day. It takes longer for one lab technician to process 80 blood samples vs a team of 5 during the day. It takes longer for one radiographer to image 80 patients overnight than a team of 3 during the day.

The hospital is not just made up of doctors. We cannot work without our colleagues. Nurses, phlebotomists, pharmacists, radiographers, porters, health care assistants, scrub nurses, physicians assistants, and anaesthetics techs.
We all work together as a team. At all hours of the day and night. Because we value the life of the person we are seeing.
We would love a 24/7 service. But you cannot achieve it by taking the same doctor, spreading him or her thinner to cover the gaps they are already covering regularly – and then tell them that’s what they ought to have been doing all along so let’s slash your meagre pay by 1/3 for good measure.

To achieve the sort of dreamlike 24/7 service Mr hunt is selling and we all want to buy. The answer is simple. Create more training posts. Hire more doctors. Twice the current amount. Hire more nurses. I’m tired just watching them scramble night after night, running between rooms taking care of double their normal case load. Hire more ancillary workers. If you really wanted a fully functioning service, where 3am on a Sunday looks the same as 10am on a Tuesday, that’s the solution.
Don’t fillet and tenderise your already overstretched team to plug the gaps. And don’t turn the public against them because they have said that it’s not right.

What happens to our value as human beings? As care givers? As people who place others first? Where is the logic, in destroying one of the greatest legacies of modern history? In order to reappropriate the money as bonuses for management consultants who “told us what was wrong”.

I never finished my story about what the NHS means to me. When I’m done with my job. And that isn’t dictated by the clock but by when my patients are all stable. When I’m done I go home to my mother, who is terminally ill. Sometimes she is very unwell. And at those times I return to the hospital. This time not as a doctor, but as patient and family. I cannot begin to explain the relief in knowing that our arrival isn’t heralded by piles of paperwork to determine how much money we have to pay for treatment. They wouldn’t find much. I’m always overdrawn. I once laughed when I lost my wallet, because there wasn’t any point in cancelling my bank cards. They would find nothing in the account. I am 34 years old and a “junior” doctor that has been working for 10 years. But I have nothing worth stealing. That’s because I usually just get paid enough to cover my rent and bills. And when I need to do exams or get a wedding gift or live without relying on a credit card I would pick up extra shifts, working even more weekends and holidays than I normally would, which was already a lot.

Then, like a lot of my colleagues. I volunteer. I volunteer my services to local communities. I voluntarily sit on charitable boards where I help develop plans to help the most vulnerable in society. I travel to refugee camps to help those that unlike me, cannot make ends meet, have been forced out of their homes through no fault of their own, and now have no one to care for them. Very few people value them at all, these proud, resilient, insightful people in camps and on journeys – let alone above all else.

So I am grateful for the NHS. Because as a terminal cancer patient. My mum and I show up at our A&e a lot. And often at the most inconvenient times. 3am. 7pm. Weeknight. Weekday. The tumor doesn’t care. But you know who does? NHS staff. They care. They value her life over all else when she walks through the door – even if she may not have very much life left to live. They always smile. They always listen. They are always patient and kind. They are cheerful most of the time, even as their pagers bleep mercilessly through every conversation they have, alerting them to another patient in need of being valued.

They trundle away regardless of the time, tucking my mum into bed, helping her to the bathroom, taking her blood despite the fact that her veins disappeared under the influence of chemotherapy long ago. Patiently searching for those life giving green threads in her hands and arms. Listening to her chest. Poring over her substantial medical history to make sure they understand everything. Discussing the minutiae that may unveil what the cancer is doing this time and how they can best hold it at bay. There are no shortcuts even at 3am. They value their patients and the families above all else. And I love them for that.

That’s what the NHS means to me. Service that comes full circle.

I treated someone’s mum like they were the only person in the world that mattered right then. And later on that night, some other kindly fatigued uniformed intelligent gentle soul did the same for my mum. And sometime during those 24 hours someone was late to pick their kids up from school or collect their dry cleaning – because an ambulance with the most valuable person to someone else, closed off the road they were on as it whizzed past.
That. is Healthcare delivered as a right, not a privilege. That is humanity. So the only question, Mr. Hunt. (And anyone else who backs the sham of making an understaffed workforce doing the best it can to work twice as long for two thirds of the pay, and ensuring that women who have families and researchers who seek to cure terminal conditions like my mother’s can’t do their job, which is what they value – ) the only question is – What do you value above all else? Money? The bottom line? The shareholders? Your mates who run companies that want private contracts? A shot at being PM?

None of that will matter to you when you are ill, Mr. Hunt. I promise you. At that moment in time. You will value your health above all else.

More than that, you will want a team of dedicated well trained NHS employees to value you above all else.
Value.your.health.service.”

Is the UK really a democracy or is it a dictatorship in cloaks?

no to war

Do you all remember when Tony Blair announced that Afghanistan was a direct threat to us UK citizens and that we would be sending in troops with America to fight the Taliban? That was in 2001. I was only 16 years old. Yet I saw straight through that lie. What a whopper! America was out for blood after September 11th and wanted one man in particular Osama Bin Laden. Majority of the UK population knew this. The marches in protest against sending in troops were the biggest ever in British history. Numbers quoted for those marches were around the 30,000 mark (police say 20,000, some sources say up to twice that number). I was one of those thousands of face. I might have been once of the few ‘children’ there but I can tell you, there were people from all works of life. Some poor, many middle class, few clearly wealthy. Some young adults, some elderly with walking aids, even the odd scooter here or there. There were Caucasians, Asians, middle Easteners and Africans like me. There were atheists, agnostics, muslims, christians, hindus, buddhists and more. Many came from all corners of the UK to join those of us who lived in London. We all marched for hours across London. We made it clear that we did not agree with the premise of the war and did not want our taxes paying for the illegal invasion of a foreign land. We signed petitions. The media talked about it for weeks on end.

The outcome? Tony Blair and his Government went ahead to approve the war and committed us to over 10 years of conflict. Our taxes paid for more than an estimated £37 billion. 454 of our armed forces died in that war. An estimated 21,000 innocent civilians living in Afghanistan, already terrorised by their Government and the Taliban, lost their lives. All because America lost 2996 people in the September 11 twin towers bombings. Sure that is a big number but what does it have to do with the UK really? Is the US not big enough to fight its own battles? Where is the proof that it was actually Bin Laden that carried out the bombings? Or maybe it was the Taliban. If there had been proof, the Afghanistan Government was willing to extradite those responsible. No such proof was forthcoming. Instead, the innocent were slaughtered.

Now their blood is on our hands. Despite the fact we stood up and said no. So I ask you: how is this a democracy when a significant proportion of your electorate says  we do not want it and you don’t even dignify them with a proper answer. No appropriate justification or apology for the cost of the war which we all could predict but not the government that is supposed to be looking after us. Can you imagine what we could have done with that £37 billion pounds instead? That is over £2.8 billion a year. That could have paid for 95,000 junior doctors, 113,000 band 5 nurses or 98, 000 high school teachers. We could have paid for most of the proposed high speed rail project (estimated £46 billion) or paid for an upgrade of our main railways and motorways. Which would you rather invest your money in?

Personally, as a taxpayer I would have been happy for the money to be spent on any of the aforementioned worthy projects which would improve our lives. I resent that I involuntarily paid for the slaughter of thousands of innocent Afghanis. Similarly, we invaded Iraq and the costs are still adding up. Because our murdering politicians (Tony Blair and his parliament) decided like a bunch of dictators to pursue an agenda not in the interest if their population. Not only are we still paying the financial cost, we now face bigger threats from groups like Islamic State who have evolved directly from the Afghani/Iraq conflict and our role in it. So shame on you Tony Blair and whoever was in a position to stop this and chose not to. Shame on you, You murderers of innocent children and women and unarmed men. Shame on you politicians pretending to be democratic when clearly you are the worst kind of dictators. Who else wants to declare war on these criminals and invade them, capture them and extradite them to Afghanistan and Iraq so that they can be punished for their war crimes? Anyone?

She is Someone

A little girl is born. Hopefully, she is received into the world with love and happiness. Unfortunately, there are still many places where having a baby girl is not a joyous occasion. Where femicide is still a problem – where baby girls are killed soon after being born because the culture sees it as shameful to be a parent to girls and not boys. Where new born baby girls are still dumped in their thousands, left defenseless because they are unwanted by those who bring them into this world. where baby girls are sent to a far flung rural hamlet and not registered in the birth registers. Where girls are sent out at a very young age to hawk small wares and be taken advantage of by paedophiles whilst their brothers are sent to school to be educated.

Sadly, the world is very unequal when it comes to gender. Even in the most ‘advanced’ of societies, women are under-appreciated. It boggles my mind that for the same job, same hours and same skills set, many women in the USA and Europe still get paid less than their male counterparts. Today, professional women who live in a partnership (marriage or otherwise) in the West still do majority of housework and childcare. Many a man will complain about doing what few chores he is asked to do for the woman (and his children) he claims to love. Many a man will feel they are entitled to be selfish and only worry about what is theirs alone whilst their woman cater for them and their children. To many, it doesn’t even occur to them to consider how their woman feels. How hard they make the life of their woman by not contributing a fair amount to making their home as nice as it is. To many, they don’t routinely say please or thank you for all the little things their woman thinks to do for them.

Double standards are still very evident in everyday life today. A man who has serial one night stands is a young man sowing his wild oats. All sorts of excuses about them needing to get it out of their system, yadda yadda yadda. A young woman does the same, she is seen as loose. A teenage girl gets pregnant and everyone judges her and her parents but very few will point the same finger at the teenage boy who made her pregnant. He doesn’t have to stop hanging out with his friends, he gets to carry on going to school whilst she has to drop out of school in shame and lose most of her friends. The baby is seen as her responsibility and she gets judged if she stumbles and becomes overwhelmed by one of the hardest jobs in the world.

A mother I think arguable has the most essential job in the world. The world’s population is obviously dependent on women bearing children. The mother does the lion share of teaching children about life, how to treat each other, and the difference between wrong and right. She teaches them about hygiene and how to dress. She is often the disciplinarian. She gets to play bad cop and yet in most cases, the children know that mother loves them. Mother’s hug is the best. Mother’s kisses cure all hurts. Mum is the one you run too when your heart is broken. Mum’s food is the one you crave when you are ill. And we all know, mother knows best. She wants what is best for us. She always has a welcoming smile, an ear ready to listen and a shoulder to lean on in our moments of doubt. She is our best friend. This is why my mind is boggled by the fact that women are so undervalued in this world. How can any man think less of a person because they are female when they were shaped by the love of a woman?

Now I know some mothers are not the best of mothers. Not all mothers are amazing. Not all of them get it right. However, the vast majority have their hearts in the right place and do the best they can for their children. Most of them, despite their faults, try to be all that I have described above for their children and I think regardless of their failures, we should remember how much of their lives they give up so that they provide for us. So that they are there for us. And our gratitude should translate into respect for our mothers which extend to all the mothers out there.

Religion interpreted by men also discriminates against women. I will talk about my religion Islam because I know what it means to be a Muslim girl and woman. There is a lot of obsessing about how women dress in many Muslim communities. Men conveniently forget the Islam asks men to cast down their gaze when in the company of the opposite sex. So I ask you, if they are busy not staring at women, why do they notice every little thing about how we decide to dress? Also, apparently some Muslim men believe that a woman should ask the permission of her husband to leave the house yet the husband is free to go and do as he pleases without letting his wife know what his plans are. What amazes me even more is that in some Muslim circles, the said husband goes out and pulls another woman to bring home as a second wife and that is all acceptable whereas if a wife wants to go to the market or college/university, the husband is allowed to be mad she went without his permission. Is what way is that fair?

So all I am saying is that I think men need to rethink how they treat the women in their lives. So we are biologically different and in the old days, perhaps physical strength was directly linked to survival but in this day and age, things are different. Physical strength is only an advantage in a few circles. Women have as many skills as men do and are as valuable in modern society as the men. Most importantly, women do the world’s hardest yet most rewarding job for free. They are our mothers. They deserve our respect. If you are an employer, pay everyone fairly for the job they do. If you employ a woman to do the same job as a man, pay her the same. If you are married or cohabiting with a woman you love and she works as many hours as you do, do some cooking and cleaning too and don’t make her ask you a million times first. If you haven’t seen your mother for a while, call her up today and take her out for a nice dinner or if you lucky to have lots of money in the bank, buy her a cruise or send her off on a surprise holiday or spa break. Show her how much you appreciate all the love and time she has invested in you. Call up your sister and tell her you love her. You know it’s the fair thing to do. Just do it!

The Greatest Heist

When people talk about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, I want to shut my ears and not have to listen about who started what and whose fault it was. Initially (I’m talking about the most recent spate of killing this summer), the UK media was all pro-Israel and blaming it all on Hamas and Islamist militants. Of course this is the currently flavour of the new millennium so I don’t expect any different. However, I do wonder why we have got to the point that legitimises Israel enough that we question who started what.

I know history isn’t my strong point…indeed I dropped the subject as soon as I was allowed to in school because the lessons were so boring for me, I felt like I was having a mini-stroke each time I had to endure one. But these days with the internet and good writers, I am loving my history. So let’s look at the facts about Palestine and those who came in to steal their land.

Palestinians (comprised of mostly Muslim and Christian Arabs and a minority of Jews) were living peacefully in the South-western corner of the Middle East. In the years around 1948, Europeans of Jewish descent (mostly Russian, German, Polish and Romanian) mobilised and en-masse emigrated to the ‘Promised land’. They were led by a group of political extremists who called themselves Zionists who wanted their own State. Unfortunately, it was already occupied by the Palestinians. These Palestinians were home and had no intention of letting someone else move into their land and displace them. So they didn’t quietly give up their land. They fought to protect their homes. The emigrants decided that if the occupants would not create a space for them, they would force them to. So they killed nearly 1 million Palestinians and they moved in. In 1948, after a lot of bloodshed, the Zionists lay claim to over 50% of the land occupied by the Palestinians.

The UN did a lot of hand-wringing and said the occupation was illegal but their voices were quiet because politically and economically, the Zionists were powerful and for the UN big players (the US and UK especially), the Zionist money trumped the human rights of the people of Palestine. So the UN threw up its hands and turned away without any real admonition to these land-grabbing killers. Over the next 60+ years, the Zionists grabbed more and more land for their new territory (Israel), all the while killing thousands of innocent Palestinians and generally making life for the majority of Palestinians intolerable.

Today, Israel with its approximately 7.5 million population occupies a territory of just under 22,000 square km compared to Palestine’s 3.5 million population who occupy less than 6,000 square km. From all accounts, the Jews only owned 7% of the land to begin with. So they owned less than 2000 square km and that has somehow grown to 11 times its size (now occupying 78% of the area). Israel has built walls effectively imprisoning those within them and controls movement of the Palestinians. It controls the movement of food and other commodities needed in daily lives. Palestine which existed hundreds or even thousands of years (as there are historical texts that talk about Palestine from around 600AD) is not a UN-recognised country but Israel which was created within a lifespan and who illegally grabbed land has a seat on the UN council.

Am I missing something here? Put yourself in the shoes of the Palestinians. Whoever you may be and wherever you may belong. I try to imagine what I would do. This is how I imagine this. My husband and I have a house (not imagination). It has a few bedrooms and a few bathrooms, a kitchen and a living room, a garden and a garage. It belongs to us. It is newly built so it never belonged to anyone else. We have papers of ownership. The records all show the deed are in our name. My husband and I live in it. We are chilling at home one weekend when someone knocks on my door. It is a family of 4 from neighbouring Coventry. They are from out of town and they have no place to spend the night but they have a tent. Can they camp out in our back garden until they are rested? We let them have our garden. One day, we come home from work and they have moved into our garage. Sorry, they say, it was raining so hard that we just needed to get some more concrete shelter. Okay I say, being kind-hearted. Days roll into weeks and I say to my husband it would be nice to have access to the garage again but we decide to just let them be because they are not causing undue inconvenience. One day, both my husband and I work late and come to find the family has moved into the house and occupied 2 out of 3 bedrooms. There are only 2 of you, they reason, and you really don’t need more than the master bedroom and your bathroom. My husband and I are not happy. It is our property after all and we paid for it. We contact the police who says it is your home but our hands are tied if they say you invited them in. As we try to think of a solution, we come home one day to find our things have been moved into the garage and the locks to the doors to the house have been changed so the only room we have access to is the garage. We knock on the door angrily and are told through the letterbox to leave or else.

What would you do? Of course, we would try to get the Police to evict them and restore our property to us. We might involve the local media and social media in an effort to get some support. However, if everyone sat on their hands and were not interested in our story would we just leave it at that? The truth is we would try anything to get them out. We would break down the door and throw their things out and move our things back in. We would drag them kicking and screaming out onto the street outside if we were strong enough to do so. Or we would mobilise our neighbours and friends to get them out.

This is what Palestinians have done as far as I can see. They fought not to leave their land. They were forced out. Many tried to appeal to the world for help to restore what was legally their land. Then a small fraction of the population got angry enough to pick up arms and resort to violence. Hamas and other political groups were born and as they gain more support, their weaponry gets more sophisticated. However, the moneyed Zionists have far superior weapons and superior defences so again, it is the whole population of Palestine that suffers. But Hamas and their ilk do not stop to consider that and neither does Israel. The innocents of Palestine (mostly unarmed young men, children and women) continue to die as they are caught in the crossfires.

Now picture that Palestine is located in Europe. Imagine that England was Promised to a group of people in their Holy text a couple of millennia ago. And these people decided to mobilise in 2015 to collectively travel to England. Then imagine that they initially claim asylum and stay with people of same ancestry. And over months, they move into neighbouring lands until the neighbours protest and resist. The invaders then mount violent assault on the people occupying England, pushing all those people North and across in Wales and Scotland. Imagine them killing more than 10% of the people currently living in England and then declaring England is no longer to be called England…that they have renamed it ‘Promised Land’ and the English are no longer citizens of a known legitimate state. Imagine…

What a dire situation those people live in! What kind of a world sits back and watches the conflict deepen and life become more and more inhumane for millions? What kind of world rewards criminality with legitimacy? I feel desperately sorry for those who are living under this tyrannical rule and feel they have no choice but to put up with because it is their home. Obviously I know that the issue of humans and their attachment to land is complex and people have always valued land more than most things including significantly their lives. And there is the small issue of the walls around Palestine so many cannot merely leave and move onto greener pastures. What a hot mess!

When You Argue with a Fool

Have you ever had an argument that goes round and round in circles, never-ending with no point to be made? Where the person you are arguing with seems to be in a monologue? Where their comebacks are so off the mark that it feels like you are in a different time-zone? Where hitting your head hard against a concrete wall might be more productive?

I have and it used to annoy me so much that I’d get really upset and want to stamp my feet. And I used to try and reason with them and try to get them to see that the argument was entirely useless and was going nowhere. Now that I am older and wiser and my fuse less short, I deal with it in one of 2 ways. Either I say ‘look this argument is going nowhere and I don’t have the time for this’ or I just say ‘we will have to agree to disagree’.

I will confess something. I copied that 2nd response off somebody older who I admired when I was teenager. I remember the first time someone used it on me and back then, I couldn’t handle the maturity of it. Back then I thought everything was black or white. I thought every argument had to end with a winner and a loser. Now I know that there are many shades of grey in between (no, not 50 shades child!). Knowing that the world isn’t so binary makes arguments less upsetting for me.

I can now acknowledge what is fact for me is not necessarily fact for another because we are all shaped by different factors. We are shaped by our genes, our environment, our family, our friends, the media, our education, our beliefs, our religion, our culture and much more. Most important of the factors that shape how we view the world is our experiences. Hence, some of the things I would have argued successfully so passionately for 10 years ago, I am not so sure now are as I argued. Yes I enjoy a good debate but I am the sort that will not be dragged into an argument unless I have strong views on the subject and I have very solid reasons to back up my views. Fact is, I do not back away from an argument and I am often successful in getting my point accepted or at the very least acknowledged by my debating partner. But I choose what I will be sucked in by. And more importantly by who.

Which brings me neatly to the quote I have used as inspiration for this blog…‘don’t argue with fools, people passing by won’t be able to tell who is who’. It is my belief that arguing with someone who you know is arguing for all the wrong reasons is a complete waste of your life. This wrong reason might be that the arguer loves the sound of their voice and they are using you as a sounding board. Or they want to impose their beliefs on you because they do not think yours are important enough. Or they say things they don’t believe in order to shock or upset or entertain the passers-by. Or they want to score points. Or they are angry or upset or stressed about something or over someone and they want to take it out on a scapegoat. Or they are arguing for the sake of it, not because they believe in what they are trying to convince you is true.

These days, with my adult hat on if I spot the arguer with these wrong reasons and they ask an opinion so they can start a diatribe, I simply say: ‘oh good question but I am afraid I don’t know much about that. I’ll pass.’ Or ‘how about you tell me what you think’ or ‘I would be lying if I said I care about that matter’. Then I listen until my patience runs out and I find an excuse to not be in the same space anymore.

If it is a proper friend and they pick an argument over the littlest thing, I will usually get worried and ask if they are okay…really ok or if there is something they need to get off their chest? You know the saying ‘when you ask a woman what’s wrong and she says it’s nothing…’ Well fact is, when your sister/mother/husband/friend who you usually get on with great starts to conjure up arguments from the most innocuous conversation, then they are asking for help. Something is up and they want permission to spill. They want you to listen. So please, instead of entering into a slanging match, give them a hug and invite them to tell you what’s really bothering them. Chances are that they do not really think George Bush was a good president or Apartheid wasn’t all that bad.