These days, Dr Ayman Alshiekh, 38, is a surgeon in an immaculate, state-of-the-art hospital in Manchester city centre. But only a few years ago, the doctor was facing the unthinkable – trying to save lives in a bloody field hospital in Syria, being hunted by a brutal régime.
Ayman spent his childhood in his beloved home country of Syria, one of the world’s most ancient centres of culture. Attending primary school, he dreamed of becoming a doctor, understanding from the beginning that he was called to come to the aid of those in need.
From his primary school days, he excelled in sciences, working hard to get the grades to pursue an education in medicine. Ayman graduated from the University of Aleppo in 2010 and started his training in vascular surgery in Damascus.
But by 2011, Syria was not a peaceful place to call home anymore. Protests began in March of that year, amid shoots of hope that the country’s authoritarian ruler Bashar al-Assad might be overthrown.
Ayman was among the young people taking part in what has since become known as the Arab Spring, where protests for a move to democracy spread across the region to the likes of Libya, Egypt, Yemen and Bahrain. But the dictator responded with a campaign of violence and terror against those pleading for a fairer world.
In the middle of his third year of training, Ayman was forced to abandon his studies. Ayman suddenly found himself at the heart of a revolution and began work as a war surgeon in a field hospital.
“Our hospitals were always a magnet for attacks. We were attacked by missiles, by bombs, simply because we were treating casualties,” he said.
“That was considered a crime by the régime. Due to the siege, no medical supplies could get into Aleppo. We had to make do with what we had. When you are a war surgeon in Aleppo, the most important thing is saving lives. Everything else comes second.”
Ayman pledged that he would use his medical training to help those being hunted by the Syrian government, who were having to go underground for daring to question the régime. Many of them suffered horrific injuries amid brutal reprisals after protesting the government, leading to the creation of secret, makeshift hospitals.
Despite his lifesaving work, the régime then turned on Ayman. He says: "I was one of the protesters as well, but I actually didn't expect that the government would start shooting at us, firing directly at our chests, towards us.
I felt that it was my duty to help these demonstrators because they couldn't go to the government hospitals. They would be arrested - and maybe killed - even in hospital, because the government does not respect a hospital as a special place where people should be treated irrespective of political opinions. In Syria, the government attacked them, killed them, tortured them, arrested them. Many of my colleagues and fellow students started to treat patients in underground hospitals, hidden from the security forces of the Assad régime.
Because of that, some of my colleagues were arrested. Under torture, unfortunately, they named us. Then I became a wanted person for the régime because I was just treating those demonstrators and protesters. I was doing my job.”
Ayman often felt helpless as he watched people arrive at hospital, unable to be saved. He could do nothing but stand by as ‘security forces came to the hospital and arrested them while they were bleeding’.
“We finished one man’s operation, and security forces were standing in front of the theatre room,” said the doctor.
“When we wanted to take him to the ICU after five hours of operation, they took his trolley and then took him away. Where? We don't know. We needed to help keep them away from the eyes of the security forces because it's our duty to care for our people and our patients irrespective of political opinions. When you save others you don't care about your life sometimes, because it's our duty to rescue all people who need us.”
Aleppo was known around the world for its beautiful heritage sites, which have been razed to the ground in the turmoil of a devastating civil war of attrition. The years wore on and Ayman found joy in a life cursed by conflict on his doorstep – marriage and a family - but that brought new fears.
“In the first two or three years of the revolution, I didn’t have a family. I put myself more at risk because I was by myself,” Ayman said.
“In 2015, I had my son, so then I had responsibilities for my family. I stayed in Aleppo and we were under siege by the Syrian military forces, Russian forces and Iranian forces.
We stayed under siege for almost six months, with daily bombardment from bombs, air strikes, rockets, and no access to any drugs, medication, food at all.
After that, we were forcibly displaced out of Aleppo. I went to Idlib, another province in Syria, and I worked there in another hospital for almost an additional year.”
Around 15 months later, he had a daughter. “I started to feel that I couldn’t sacrifice myself, I had a wife and two kids. The Assad gang, with the help of Russian and Iranian forces, were taking areas and I was scared to be under siege again now that I had a family.”
The doctor managed to get his family asylum in Turkey – while he stayed behind in Syria continuing to save lives.
“When the barrel bombs started to fall over us in 2014, I was already working in a field hospital and I couldn't concentrate on treating people because I was always thinking about my family. When I moved them to Turkey, I could at least concentrate on my job,” said Ayman.
After years on the frontline, Ayman faced his options – stay in Syria and be killed by an airstrike on his hospital, or be killed by the régime for helping the opposition. He was forced to flee and, unable to apply for a visa and wait for the result under the constant threat of death, Ayman attempted the dangerous journey as a refugee across Europe.
Aiming for the UK as a safe haven, he knew the journey would be treacherous, but there were too many stories of refugees being caught and ‘assassinated’ by Syrian authorities on the continent to stay in mainland Europe. Ayman struggled to speak about this part of his story. It’s just too traumatic, he says.
He arrived at the end of 2018 ‘in the back of a lorry’ with little money and very few possessions.
“I faced even more danger than I had in Syria, the journey was difficult. I claimed asylum. Six months later, I was granted refugee status, thankfully,” said Ayman.
After an incredible, terrifying life in Syria and journey to the UK, in his mid-30s, Ayman settled in Manchester. One day in the future, Ayman hopes to return to his homeland. He said: “I want to help my people there and help rebuild our health system from everything I have learned here.” '
“We finished one man’s operation, and security forces were standing in front of the theatre room,” said the doctor.
“When we wanted to take him to the ICU after five hours of operation, they took his trolley and then took him away. Where? We don't know. We needed to help keep them away from the eyes of the security forces because it's our duty to care for our people and our patients irrespective of political opinions. When you save others you don't care about your life sometimes, because it's our duty to rescue all people who need us.”
Aleppo was known around the world for its beautiful heritage sites, which have been razed to the ground in the turmoil of a devastating civil war of attrition. The years wore on and Ayman found joy in a life cursed by conflict on his doorstep – marriage and a family - but that brought new fears.
“In the first two or three years of the revolution, I didn’t have a family. I put myself more at risk because I was by myself,” Ayman said.
“In 2015, I had my son, so then I had responsibilities for my family. I stayed in Aleppo and we were under siege by the Syrian military forces, Russian forces and Iranian forces.
We stayed under siege for almost six months, with daily bombardment from bombs, air strikes, rockets, and no access to any drugs, medication, food at all.
After that, we were forcibly displaced out of Aleppo. I went to Idlib, another province in Syria, and I worked there in another hospital for almost an additional year.”
Around 15 months later, he had a daughter. “I started to feel that I couldn’t sacrifice myself, I had a wife and two kids. The Assad gang, with the help of Russian and Iranian forces, were taking areas and I was scared to be under siege again now that I had a family.”
The doctor managed to get his family asylum in Turkey – while he stayed behind in Syria continuing to save lives.
“When the barrel bombs started to fall over us in 2014, I was already working in a field hospital and I couldn't concentrate on treating people because I was always thinking about my family. When I moved them to Turkey, I could at least concentrate on my job,” said Ayman.
After years on the frontline, Ayman faced his options – stay in Syria and be killed by an airstrike on his hospital, or be killed by the régime for helping the opposition. He was forced to flee and, unable to apply for a visa and wait for the result under the constant threat of death, Ayman attempted the dangerous journey as a refugee across Europe.
Aiming for the UK as a safe haven, he knew the journey would be treacherous, but there were too many stories of refugees being caught and ‘assassinated’ by Syrian authorities on the continent to stay in mainland Europe. Ayman struggled to speak about this part of his story. It’s just too traumatic, he says.
He arrived at the end of 2018 ‘in the back of a lorry’ with little money and very few possessions.
“I faced even more danger than I had in Syria, the journey was difficult. I claimed asylum. Six months later, I was granted refugee status, thankfully,” said Ayman.
After an incredible, terrifying life in Syria and journey to the UK, in his mid-30s, Ayman settled in Manchester. One day in the future, Ayman hopes to return to his homeland. He said: “I want to help my people there and help rebuild our health system from everything I have learned here.” '
