In North Syria, Skin Disease Ravages Young and Old

A Syrian boy holds a cotton wool over his cheek after receiving treatment for leishmaniasis skin disease at a health center in Karama northern Syria. (AFP)
A Syrian boy holds a cotton wool over his cheek after receiving treatment for leishmaniasis skin disease at a health center in Karama northern Syria. (AFP)
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In North Syria, Skin Disease Ravages Young and Old

A Syrian boy holds a cotton wool over his cheek after receiving treatment for leishmaniasis skin disease at a health center in Karama northern Syria. (AFP)
A Syrian boy holds a cotton wool over his cheek after receiving treatment for leishmaniasis skin disease at a health center in Karama northern Syria. (AFP)

Inside a dank clinic in the north of war-torn Syria, a girl covered in scabs wails and tries to wriggle out of her mother's arms to escape a nurse's needle.

Gently holding fluffy cotton wool over her eyes, the male health worker injects a transparent liquid into the crusty blemishes on the tip of her nose.

She is one of hundreds in the northern province of Raqqa to be suffering from leishmaniasis, a skin disease caused by a microscopic parasite spread by sandflies, said an AFP report Thursday.

The illness is endemic to Syria, the World Health Organization (WHO) says, but has become more prevalent during the eight-year war.

Dozens of children and adults are seeking treatment between the damp-smelling walls of the health center in the northern town of Karama.

Among them, 15-year-old Shaza al-Omar awaits her turn.

"I've got some on my leg, my sister's got 11 lesions on her face, and my brother has some on his eye," says the teenager, draped from head to toe in black.

Not far off, a father tries in vain to pacify his toddler daughter, who screams as the nurse injects solution into lesions on her face.

Once it is over, he carries her out of the clinic clutching a large packet of potato crisps.

A woman sits on a stretcher, an ailing leg stretched out in front on her, as a nurse injects medicine into one blemish after another.

The number of leishmaniasis cases in Syria doubled from 2010 to 2018 to more than 80,000 patients, WHO says.

Many were in northern and northeastern areas rocked in recent years by clashes to expel the ISIS group.

At the health center in Karama, Wadha al-Jarrad, 55, has rushed in to ask about treatment for her family -- her grandchildren, her daughter-in-law and even her elderly husband.

"He's always scratching it until it bleeds," she says of her husband's sore on his hand, reported AFP.

"He itches it, and I tell him not to," says Jarrad, a black and white scarf wrapped around her greying hair.

"We can't sleep at night because of all the flies," she adds.

Leishmaniasis is usually linked to poverty, poor sanitation and malnutrition, WHO says, factors likely compounded by the war.

Across Karama, insects hover over piles of rubbish between rows of modest houses, some still bearing scars of battles that resulted in Kurdish-led forces kicking ISIS out in 2017.

Younes al-Naeemi, the manager of the Karama health center, says the clinic has received 4,000 cases of leishmaniasis from the town and surrounding villages since April last year.

"Marshes, humidity, the house's proximity to farming land, as well as widespread rubbish" have fueled the spread of the skin condition, he says.

But lack of awareness has also compounded the problem.

Some people "come immediately after discovering they have been affected, while others don't do anything until it gets worse and treatment becomes much harder," he says.

"Treatment is available, but awareness is more important," he says.

After a peak of almost 6,800 cases in Raqqa province last year, WHO says there has been a decline in cases at the start of this year.

The international organization has distributed mosquito nets, provided medicine to treat the disease, and supports six health centers in Raqa, including in Karama.

But it warns the rates could again rise as the weather becomes warmer.

"Sandfly breeding usually peaks when the temperature starts to rise in spring and summer," WHO spokesman Yahya Bouzo said, according to AFP.

"Unless prevention measures are taken, the number of cases is expected to" increase.

But Karama's residents say their rural town is neglected.

They complain of a lack of services including regular trash pick-ups.

Hussein Hamoud, 50, says official measures taken to counter the spread of the disease were simply not enough.

"They once sprayed insecticide inside the houses, but then they never did again," he says.

"Nobody cares. If there was even the slightest concern, this would not have happened," he says, referring to leishmaniasis.

At a primary school in the nearby village of Jadeeda, a young boy sits upright in his seat, a blemish on his cheek.

Outside the classroom, school director Abd Zeen al-Morei pulls up his jeans to show off leishmaniasis marks on his leg.

"I've got 15 lesions all over my body and I'm still receiving treatment," says the 26-year-old.

Up to 40 children at the school also have the skin disease.



Sudan's Doctors Bear Brunt of War as Healthcare Falls Apart

(FILES) A Sudanese army soldier mans a machine gun on top of a military pickup truck outside a hospital in Omdurman - AFP
(FILES) A Sudanese army soldier mans a machine gun on top of a military pickup truck outside a hospital in Omdurman - AFP
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Sudan's Doctors Bear Brunt of War as Healthcare Falls Apart

(FILES) A Sudanese army soldier mans a machine gun on top of a military pickup truck outside a hospital in Omdurman - AFP
(FILES) A Sudanese army soldier mans a machine gun on top of a military pickup truck outside a hospital in Omdurman - AFP

Sudanese doctor Mohamed Moussa has grown so accustomed to the constant sound of gunfire and shelling near his hospital that it no longer startles him. Instead, he simply continues attending to his patients.

"The bombing has numbed us," the 30-year-old general practitioner told AFP by phone from Al-Nao hospital, one of the last functioning medical facilities in Omdurman, part of greater Khartoum.

Gunfire rattles in the distance, warplanes roar overhead and nearby shelling makes the ground tremble, more than a year and a half into a grinding war between rival Sudanese generals.

Embattled health workers "have no choice but to continue", said Moussa.
Since April 2023, Sudan has been torn apart by a war between army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and his former deputy Mohamed Hamdan Daglo, leader of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

The war has killed tens of thousands and uprooted 12 million people, creating what the International Rescue Committee aid group has called the "biggest humanitarian crisis ever recorded".

The violence has turned the country's hospitals into battlegrounds, placing health workers like Moussa on the frontlines.

Inside Al-Nao's overwhelmed wards, the conflict's toll is staggering.

Doctors say they tend to a harrowing array of injuries: gunshot wounds to the head, chest and abdomen, severe burns, shattered bones and amputations -- even among children as young as four months.

The hospital itself has not been spared.

Deadly shelling has repeatedly hit its premises, according to medical charity Doctors Without Borders (MSF) which has supported the Al-Nao hospital.

Elsewhere, the situation is just as dire. In North Darfur, a recent drone attack killed nine at the state capital's main hospital, while shelling forced MSF to evacuate its field hospital in a famine-hit refugee camp.

- Medics targeted -

Sudan's healthcare system, already struggling before the war, has now all but crumbled.

Of the 87 hospitals in Khartoum state, nearly half suffered visible damage between the start of the war and August 26 this year, according to satellite imagery provided and analysed by Yale University's Humanitarian Research Lab and the Sudanese American Physicians Association.

As of October, the World Health Organization had documented 119 confirmed attacks on healthcare facilities across Sudan.

"There is a complete disregard for civilian protection," said Kyle McNally, MSF's humanitarian affairs advisor.

He told AFP that an ongoing "broad-spectrum attack on healthcare" includes "widespread physical destruction, which then reduces services to the floor -- literally and figuratively".

The national doctors' union estimates that in conflict zones across Sudan, up to 90 percent of medical facilities have been forced shut, leaving millions without access to essential care.

Both sides of the conflict have been implicated in attacks on healthcare facilities.

The medical union said that 78 health workers have been killed since the war began, by gunfire or shelling at their workplaces or homes.

"Both sides believe that medical staff are cooperating with the opposing faction, which leads to their targeting," union spokesperson Sayed Mohamed Abdullah told AFP.

"There is no justification for targeting hospitals or medical personnel. Doctors... make no distinction between one patient and another."

- Starvation -

According to the doctors' union, the RSF has raided hospitals to treat their wounded or search for enemies, while the army has conducted air strikes on medical facilities across the country.

On November 11, MSF suspended most activities at Bashair Hospital, one of South Khartoum's few functioning hospitals, after fighters stormed the facility and shot dead another fighter being treated there.

MSF officials say they believe the fighters to be RSF combatants.

In addition to the endless stream of war casualties, Sudan's doctors scramble to respond to another threat: mass starvation.

In a paediatric hospital in Omdurman, across the Nile from Khartoum, malnourished children arrive in droves.

Between mid-August and late October, the small hospital was receiving up to 40 children a day, many in critical condition, according to one doctor.

"Every day, three or four of them would die because their cases were very late stage and complicated, or due to a shortage of essential medicines," said the physician, requesting anonymity for safety concerns.

Sudan has for months teetered on the edge of famine, with nearly 26 million people -- more than half the population -- facing acute hunger, according to the UN.

Adnan Hezam, a spokesman for the International Committee of the Red Cross, said there must be "immediate support in terms of supplies and human resources to medical facilities".

Without it, "we fear a rapid deterioration" in already limited services, he told AFP.

To Moussa, the doctor, some days feel "unbearable".

"But we can't stop," he said.

"We owe it to the people who depend on us."