Here to be and to bloom: a medical student’s forced migration

by Ayman Faroug

Ayman Faroug was a medical student at the University of El Fashir until 2024. He had to leave in the middle of his studies. He is now seeking asylum in the UK, where he aims to complete his qualifications.  A huge thank you to Faroug, who took the time to write this blog for us.

In the fall of 2010, my whole life trajectory had changed. I witnessed a horrible motorcycle accident of one of my neighbours, who had just died in front of my very own eyes. His accident was so horrific that his head had fluid leakage, which I learned so many years later in the future is termed grey matter. On that day, I felt so bad that I was incapable of helping him, and from that moment I took it upon myself to help the ill ones. You might be wondering why I am telling you such an anecdote. Just for you to have a crystal-clear idea of where I came from and where I am heading.

From a third-year medical student on the verge of starting his clinical rotations to an asylum seeker in the United Kingdom who is trying to make his way to becoming a doctor, what a turn of events.

I had just come home from El Fashir to be in the warmth of my family, and for a few peaceful days, I enjoyed everlasting tranquillity with my mom and my sisters. Just when I thought I was in heaven, with a snap of fingers, a war ensued. Since the 15th of April, the journey of illuminating fear and restlessness was ignited.

I thought I was going to die. As you are in a moment where a rifle is pressed against your head, you start to think of life and the meaning behind it. You can imagine what it's like to be surrounded by people who are stripped of any morality, and inhumane violence is running deep in their veins. I was praying to God to make it alive; then I knew how precious living is.

I made it out alive, but I never survived humiliation, beating, verbal abuse, and a threat of six-feet-deep burial. I thought of going out there and doing some Die Hard and John Wick stuff, but reality begged the differ.

With a heart full of despair and agony, I had to leave everything behind, and by everything, I mean everything. 22 years of full-lived life just like that, from my family and long-honestly-built friendships, milestones of 15 years of education that was to be crowned with MBBS in Medicine and Surgery.

I have been through a lot of death threats, forced labour, and many other horrible incidents. I left Sudan not knowing where to go, but I ended up going to Libya, Tunisia, alongside the unforgettable 25-hour sail with a small boat to Italy. Along the way, I have witnessed, seen, and lived meanings that were once just words, such as, but not limited to honesty, manhood, divine intervention, betrayal, adventure, friendship, generosity, altruism...

I have been with people who cheated death not only once or twice but so many times. I fire-side-chatted people who Andy Dufresned themselves from Libyan jails. I slept under bridges, walked from Italy to France. Nothing was as survival of the Mediterranean Sea waves that echoed death.

The epiphany of me being in the UK is as surreal as ever, yet real. There is no shortage of moments when I felt devastated, worthless, uncertain, unwanted, and lost. If it wasn't for Horsforth Town of Sanctuary, I know I would still be in a spiral of self-abuse. They are very compassionate, caring, loving, and supportive by helping asylum seekers and refugees and bridging the gap between us and the local community. They are the embodiment of sanctuary.

They have inspired and ignited a torch of hope in me to make my hopes and aspirations come to fruition. Hence, I have taken some practical steps in trying to get a Statement of Comparability and establishment of lines of communication to land an offer from Medical Schools. Wish and pray for me, for life taught me to never go to a war without enough ammunition: a neurosurgeon in the making.

We are here to be and to bloom.