From refugee to resilience: Dr Hashem Salim

Good morning, everyone. I am very pleased to be here. My name is Dr Hashem Salim. 

I had the privilege of speaking at last year’s AGM to express my appreciation for the help you gave me to secure my first job in the UK as an orthopaedic surgeon at an NHS hospital. Today I am here for different reasons.

18 months ago,  I was an “asylum seeker” living in a hostel on £8 a week.

With the assistance of the Emergency Relief Fund and a place to stay through the Room for Refugees Programme, I was able to practise my vocation. I pay my taxes. I stand on my own two feet.

Without this help, the UK asylum system makes it impossible for people like to move forward with their lives. 

The war on Gaza had devastating consequences for my family. So what I am about to tell you is not my story. It is the story of every Palestinian.  My mother and little sister were displaced five times in as many months. 

First they sheltered in an UNRWA school in the north of Gaza. Then they were ordered to walk south to a supposed safe zone. They travelled to Khan Younis with my mother-in-law and six of her children. Then they were ordered to move to Rafah. After that, they were ordered to move to Al Mawasi, a tiny strip of beach along with 1.5M people.

The bombardment increased, and my mother’s home was destroyed. I discovered this watching Al Jazeera news. And you can see a picture of this in your annual report.

In one of our brief phone calls, my mother confided that she wanted to die first so she would not have to identify the bodies of the others. 

I resigned myself to the routine of daily A&E shifts. Each morning I woke wondering if that would be the day I’d find out my family had been killed or injured. 

Over the last year, we lost 20 family members. My wife has recently received news from Jabalia that out of 70 family members - mostly women and children - only a few survived. The others are assumed to be killed or imprisoned. 

Imagine watching the destruction of everything you know and love: the desire to defy a genocide and build a family becomes extremely strong. During this time, I was working 13-hour shifts. At times the realisation of what was happening was so overwhelming that I would be Violently sick. 

It was very difficult to be apart from Sama while she waited in Cairo for my asylum process to be completed so she could apply for family reunion.  Egypt was charging thousands of dollars for people to leave Gaza, and the price kept rising as people became more desperate. 

In January, Positive Action in Housing organised a fundraising campaign among its supporters. Within days, the charity helped to raise over £30,000. 

On 28th March 2024, nine members of our family were given passes to leave Rafah and cross the Sinai desert to Cairo. They were in terrible condition, both physically and mentally. My mother said goodbye to her parents and siblings, knowing she would probably never see them again, but the priority was to get the children and young people out. 

From Egypt my mother told me:

“I did not realise that in Egypt they could hear Gaza being bombed. I thought they did nothing because they did not know.”

My maternal grandmother, Naema, is in her 80s. She was the heart of our family and always cheerful. When I was growing up, she would make breakfast, turn on music in the kitchen, and dance with me while preparing our meals. Their home was a safe haven. They had five ducks, ten chickens, and 25 rabbits as pets, and she grew plants and herbs.

She is originally from Hebron, which is famous for jam made from grapes. She made about half a tonne. 

At the beginning of the war, she gave it away to family and neighbours. As water shortages grew she produced the bottles of water that she had buried in her garden. We were used to anticipating war in Gaza. 

She and my grandfather lost their home, everything—the kitchen, the pots, the tea, and even the stereo she treasured. But to me, she was the most beautiful part of those memories. 

They are now in Deir Al Balah, sleeping on the sand. My grandfather has dementia and keeps asking questions; they don’t understand what is happening. I wish more than anything that they stay safe until this ends somehow.

My father-in-law studied industrial engineering in Romania, earning his master’s degree, and then returned to Gaza. He helped build the Gaza airport, which was destroyed in the 2000s, and contributed to the construction of the Gaza port, which was also destroyed. He is the proud father of seven daughters and one son. He is a man of immense pride and dignity. 

At the age of 61, he took a job as a cleaner in Israel to support his daughters through medical school. I pray every day for his safety and well-being. 

Funds were raised for him to leave Gaza too, but he gave his ticket to his new son-in-law, Basil. His wife refused to speak to him initially but eventually accepted his decision. He believed the war would end, and he wanted to get his other daughters’ university certificates so they could continue their medical studies in Egypt. He continues to struggle to survive in Gaza, caring for his younger brother. 

I think of my dear friend, Dr Mahmood Al-Najjar, who was my colleague at Alexandria Faculty of Medicine. He was a paediatric registrar in the north of Gaza, in one of the refugee camps. His entire family was killed when their house was targeted. Because the house had four floors, it was impossible to retrieve the bodies for burial. Instead, he found peace by visiting the rubble and pouring water over the remains of his family home and his family members’ bodies. 

One day, he arrived to perform his water-pouring ritual, but he couldn’t find the rubble or human remains. He believes they were used to build the US port at North Gaza. The Idea of the port, which was supposed to provide food aid to Gazans to bypass the food blockade, was swiftly abandoned, while Palestinians continue to starve. How do we cope with life while this is happening on our beautiful planet? 

We ease our suffering by thinking of those who are worse off. Which brings me to the final reason I am here. I applied for family reunion to bring my wife here. The Home Office said it would take up to 60 days, but five months passed. My MP did not respond either. 

Within a day of Positive Action in Housing sending a strongly worded letter insisting that my wife’s application be expedited, my MP got in touch, and within two weeks, my wife received permission to enter the UK. She is here with me today. We now hope to apply to bring my mother and sister here. 

So, thank you for helping me rebuild my life. You saved nine people’s lives: my mother, my sister Shada, my mother-in-law Samia, Sama’s sisters Lama and her husband Basil, Hala, Wafa, Tala (who is 14), and Mohammad (who is only 12). And finally: I was received with such kindness last year that our wish is to one day move to Scotland. So you have also gained two NHS doctors! Thank you.