Interview with Dr. Abrehet Gebrekidan: Passing on Our Experiences to the Next Generation

Dr. Abrehet, could you please give us a brief introduction of your personal background?

I was born in Eritrea. My mother died, when I was very young. Then my elder brother took me with him to Ethiopia, to help me forget my sorrow. As a result I grew up in Gondar, Ethiopia.

 After attending high school, I studied Nursing at the Gondar Public Health College. I then took a course in obstetrics, and started working in that college. Fortunately I got a scholarship to study in the USA, where I graduated with a B.Sc degree . in nursing. Afterwards, I came back to Addis Ababa and started working there.

How did you become aware of the Eritrean Revolution before you actually joined the ’field’?

I used to hear about the Eritrean Revolution when I was in Addis Ababa. But I got to know about it while I was studying in the US. At that time, there was an organization of Ethiopian students in America.

By 1974, after the fall of the Hailesilasie government in Ethiopia, we Eritreans pulled out from the Ethiopian student’s organization and formed our own organization.

My first encounter with the EPLF was, therefore, in the USA. Since I was married and I had left my son in Ethiopia, I had to return there although the situation was very bad.

When the Dergue seized power in Ethiopia, the college where I worked was considered as being anti government. As a result, we were leading very dangerous lives.

When I returned to Gondar, I started working in a clandestine group of the EPLF. Our activities were very secretive and I was allowed to meet only one of the "cell" members there.

The Dergue had initiated the ‘Keyshebir’, a campaign of terror which especially targeted students. Although I didn't know the reason, I was told that I was being hunted by agents of the regime. So I planned to leave for the field.

As I learned later, my uncle was a clandestine member of the EPLF. We had never discussed politics with him. On my departure, I bade him farewell and he assured me that he'd somehow , later, send the rest of my family to the field.

When I decided to leave the city and join the liberation struggle, first I had to take my son to my family and withdraw some of my money from the bank. At the time withdrawing money from the bank was eyed with suspicion. So, I had to pretend that it was for repairing my car. Then I asked for a 5-day leave under the pretext that my father was ill and I had to see him. The officials were suspicious. Earlier, five Eritreans had asked for leave. Three of them joined the Revolution and did not return. They were Dr. Tewelde, Dr. Andom, and another one whose name I can't remember.

After some ups and downs I got my leave. When I reached Asmara, I did not get the chance to see my father because I had to go out to the field in the five days permitted to me. At the time all outlets from Asmara to the rural areas were closed. A member of the EPLF told me, "We'll get you out of Asmara at any cost." At the time I thought they meant money payment and not cost in terms of lives (sacrifice), as I came to understand later in the field. After five days we were smuggled out of Asmara wearing traditional peasant dresses.

How did you find life in the field? Tell us about your experiences there?

Earlier, I had no idea about life in the field. There were people who had gone to the field before me. I used to think that I could do everything they did. But, really, life in the field was not easy. [Once out of Asmara], we were told that we were around the villages of Zager or Beleza. The journey, which was on foot, was long, tiresome, and we had to endure thirst. When I reached the training center I felt all right. In the beginning, though, I contracted typhoid. The doctors sent me to Afabet, then Keren [then under the EPLF] where I received proper treatment and recovered. All in all, life in the field was no picnic. It's very hard. But the fighters accepted it because they had goals and principles. It's true that I tolerated the life, but I had a personal problem, which I could not discuss openly with my comrades. As a mother, I missed my son very much.

How was the medical service in the field, your field obstetrics, in particular?

When I finished my military training, I was assigned in the Department of Obstetrics in Keren. But my tasks were not confined to obstetrics. I had to work in surgery, wound dressing, and I was given the responsibility of taking care of an orphaned child, named Ghedem, whose parents were killed in Massawa. At the time EPLF's hospitals were not separated by specialty fields. Various sections like surgery, obstetrics, etc., were all organized in one hospital. It was only after the 1979 ‘strategic withdrawal’, that an obstetrics unit was formed. Then many female fighters, some pregnant and others with children came there form various places in the field. What's surprising is that it took me about a year to organize the job properly. Initially, there were problems. At the time EPLF fighters had negative attitude towards pregnancy and childbirth by female fighters. So, the women fighters there were always under stress. They used to hold their babies all the time.

The children in the unit were very young, the oldest being two-year old toddlers. We had no special diet for children. They used to share the same meals with their mothers. Children had no special clothes either. Due to lack of facilities such as beds for childbirth, we used to make delivery on simple earthen beds. Medical equipment was very rudimentary or non-existent. I remember we had only a pair of scissors, a needle holder and an old forceps. When I went to the Front's pharmacy to ask for medical supplies and instruments, I was pleasantly surprised. I did not expect to find so much drugs and medical equipment. The fighters there allowed me to take whatever I needed for my unit. I appreciated their kindness and cooperation and still remember that feeling of gratitude to this day. We took all we needed.

The next step was how to organize the work and the supplies properly. I had eight members working with me. I taught them the basics of obstetrics and childcare.

There were problems of clothing for the children; some of our patients (fighters) had just one piece of clothing for their babies. But others had more access and brought several pieces of clothes. So, we introduced a system of communal living. We made the children share the clothes, thus improving their dressing and food situation.

We also started political awareness classes in order to keep the fighter-mothers busy. We divided the unit into sections, each according to age and situation. We had separate sections for pregnant fighters, new mothers (after delivery), mothers with older babies, and mothers with children up to two years of age. The unit was started in ‘Haweli'e’ in 1979 following the Strategic Withdrawal.

I had started the job not merely to carry out instructions but also in response to my own inspiration. So, we were able to challenge the problems and shortages and we were able to succeed in introducing good childcare.

As the children increased in number, there was not enough clothing for them. We contacted the EPLF's Department of Social Affairs and they gave us some fabrics for clothing. Our members washed the pieces of cloth in a stream and prepared them for use as baby diapers. The mothers would be given the pieces and they'd stitch them up to make clothes and diapers for their babies. The supply was not enough but we had to endure. Our unit had evolved into a big platoon before we moved to ‘Jelhanti’ towards the end of 1980.

Upon arrival in Jelhanti, we started getting help from various sources. All departments of the Front, especially the Department of Social Affairs, gave us a big help. For the first time the children could sleep in proper beds, just like in a city maternity ward. Although we moved from place to place because of the war situation, our condition started improving gradually.

At the time everyone was responsible for all aspects of work. We had no strict division of labour. Everyone worked not only in his/her specific job, but had to give a hand in the other tasks. Each member was concerned about the health, diet, and clothing of the children as well as their mothers' conditions. We were not only doctors but operated as one big family unit too.

We had trained our members in the field of obstetrics, so their interest in this field was raised. But there was some negative feeling. While the other platoons (of doctors, medics and nurses) were taking care of wounded fighters, we were taking care of children and mothers. The fighters had a poor attitude about pregnancy and childbirth. So when some fellow fighters learned that our members worked in the Obstetrics Platoon (it was given the number 17 subsequent to the other 16 platoons working in Haweli'e Hospital; but the name "17" stuck to all obstetrics units everywhere in the field), they joked and belittled their work. This created some problems of morale for the fighters in our unit. Some even left the unit out of frustration. We had to handle the feelings of our members. But parallel to this, there were many positive developments.

As I mentioned earlier, pregnancy was not well accepted among fighters at the time. Therefore, many female fighters felt some stress and tension whenever they got pregnant. They faced many psychological problems due to this. Some even suffered mental breakdown. Although I was not a psychiatrist, I used to give them counseling to the best of my abilities.

In addition, Jelhanti, was an extremely hot place. On one occasion, an epidemic of an unknown origin spread in our camp. I remember we administered 137 intravenous infusions to patients. All the members, including the mothers, worked day and night to save the children, and we succeeded.

The hot climate was, therefore, one of the biggest problems. And, of course, there was no ventilation or air-conditioning. We had to use pieces of cloth, dampened with water, as sponges to cool the children. Life was indeed hard. When an epidemic occurred, it would infect all the children and this was a problem. We took the safety of the children to heart and placed their healthcare and welfare above everything else. We tried to separate them into different sections to prevent the spread of infections. We sent the older kids to the Department of Social Affairs. We also divided the maternity ward and established branches in Nakfa and Halibet, with the central maternity ward in Amberbeb (all in the Sahel base area of the EPLF).

When the older children were taken from us, the volume of our work was reduced. Now we had only to take care of the pregnant fighters, help them in delivery, take care of newly born infants, and so on.

With the launching of the Dergue's 6th Offensive in 1982, the maternity ward was moved to Amberbeb. But the resulting surgical work (taking care of the wounded fighters) was so overwhelming it complicated and spilled over to our work.

Later, after the 6th Offensive was successfully repelled, our work improved. We had some training from doctors coming from abroad. They taught us surgical skills to help us in delivery. We also learned how to take care of tumors and other problems in the reproductive system. We called up fighters form the front that had surgical problems and with the help of the foreign doctors we operated on them. This was my first time to conduct a surgical operation all by myself.

In 1983, a new central maternity ward was constructed. My skills improved. Some experts visited us from France. Later, in 1988, we had a visit from an experienced elderly doctor from Sweden (aged 80!), Professor Axel Sunburg, who had a lifetime work experience in the field of maternity and gynecology. We learned a great deal from him.

Up until 1991, we helped solve the problems of women fighters and some civilians who came to us. I feel satisfied with the fact that I contributed to this end. The news of our services spread far and wide. Women came to us for help from as far as Karneshm, Gul'i, Shelalo, Kuazien, etc., in the highlands. I felt great satisfaction because I helped the women and learned a great deal on the way.

Do you have any special memories from your days in the field?

What impressed me most is the policy and guidance of the EPLF in this field. What was written was implemented 100%. The reason for our success was because of the EPLF's correct polices. Everybody felt responsible of the job he or she did.

I have some happy and some sad memories. Once a pregnant fighter was brought to us from the Revolution School. But she was already dead when she arrived. This was the first death of a pregnant woman I ever saw. I tried to save her baby, but to no avail. Follwing that, an order was sent out that all pregnant fighters should be admitted to hospital months before actual delivery time. This reduced the risk of death from complications among pregnant fighters. Even though there were others who were martyred in battle, after having had safe delivery, I feel most saddened about the ones who died during delivery.

Another aspect about the Front that I admire most is its ability to provide supplies fast. For example, when the decree allowing marriage among fighters was introduced, we had no contraceptives at hand. Later when we asked for these materials, contraceptives were purchased from abroad.

We even had incubators for pre-term deliveries. Once we had an 800-gram infant. Our member (Yeshi Menghis) kept him alive through hard work by making him sleep in boxes and putting bottles of hot water. We also had triplets who were born underweight. We had to use special means to preserve their lives.

Another thing that I don’t forget is that EPLF members, whenever they felt we needed something badly, they immediately sent it to us. Once, in 1981, eight EPLF mass organization members from the Diaspora visited our unit. Seeing the children play football barefoot, they immediately decided to send shoes and stockings, which they did. They also sent a container full of toys. It is this kind of human factor that helped us win the war in the end.

I also remember the civilian women of Sahel, who came to our hospital for treatment. They used to say, "After independence, you'll leave us and go to the cities. Who'll give us medical treatment then?" I would answer them, half-jokingly, that we would look for a helicopter and come to treat them. I hope this will become a reality one day.

Tell us about your experiences after independence.

After independence, my first appointment was in the maternity ward in Mekane Hiwet Hospital. The hospital had gone through a time of decline; it had no facilities. I was the only one from Sahel. There were two other doctors and a nurse there. We reorganized the hospital and prepared the necessary supplies. Many mothers, who came for delivery from distant places like Tserona, rarely went back home alive. They would be so weakened that by the time they arrive, they'd be too frail to survive. Seeing this, I even entertained the idea of dispatching a delivery unit to the area.

You are now a member of the National assembly. How do you find that?

Yes, I am a member of the National Assembly. The work is not that difficult. I participate in meetings. I am part of the Health Committee of the Assembly. This is related to my job, so it's not difficult. On the other hand, I am lecturer at the Health College in the University of Asmara. I am a doctor as well as a lecturer, so I enjoy the job. As an Assembly member, I travel to different places and try to look into the health problems and observe the activities of health institutions. Then we discuss ways of solving the problems in the Assembly. Finally we send our recommendations to the Ministry of Health. We have good working relations with the concerned ministries.

In the field you used to train maternity specialists. After independence you are teaching in the Health College. What can you tell us about that?

I trained about 100 maternity obstetricians in the field. I prepared a text for this purpose and I used to teach both theory and practice. I worked hard to preserve discipline. But after independence, the Ministry of Health did not recognize my students as qualified obstetricians. That upsets me. I felt it was a waste of human resources. When we compared the curricula of the field with the current one in use, the one from the field was found to be better. Sister Ghidey Ghebrehans an me prepared and revised the textbook for the training of obstetricians.

Any final comments?

I congratulate the NUEW on the efforts it is making to raise women’s awareness of their roles and rights. But this is only part of the solution, as the male citizens should also be aware of these rights. I would also like to appeal to the Ministry of Health to reconsider and give due attention to the issue of obstetricians trained in the field.

Thank you.