Dr Ruth
Pfau is a missionary who works with leprosy
patients. Zia Mutaher writes about her work
in Karachi and how she inspired others to
join the great cause of eradicating this
scourge.
She came back to McLeod Road with a new zeal
and reorganized the work. Proper
registration, histories and examinations
were initiated and simple laboratory tests
were started. Abdul Rehman an
under-treatment leprosy patient with
deformed hands, was trained in the use of
the microscope. He was a teacher by
profession and the only one in the colony,
who had refused to beg. Dr Iqbal Yad, the
specialist at the TB Centre, was kind enough
to grant Abdul Rehman admission in the
laboratory technician's course, in spite of
threats by other candidates of boycotting
the course, if a leprosy afflicted person
was allowed to sit in. Abdul Rehman
completed the six months' course with flying
colours and resumed his work at the
dispensary, with the microscope perched on
his knees as there was no space for a
separate table.
In those days, doctors just refused to
entertain a leprosy case in their clinics or
hospitals. When Mazhar Hussain developed a
foot gangrene, the orthopaedic surgeon at
the Jinnah Hospital agreed to do the
surgery, but he could only operate upon a
leprosy patient in the hospital's mortuary.
When Mazhar Hussain developed a
postoperative tetanus, Ruth was in tears.
She ran from one hospital to another to
acquire help and at last reached the unit at
the Civil Hospital. The assistant doctor
admitted Mazhar in the verandah, at the
backside. The patient improved but the young
doctor got an explanation call from the
superintendent. In his reply Dr Jaffer Ali
Hashmi stated, 'Sir, would you have liked,
if I would have refused admission to the
patient brought by this foreign lady
herself, when she was aware that according
to the law of the country, it was her
patient's right.' This saved him a
termination of his services but he was
immediately transferred to the
Municipality's leprosarium at far away
Manghopir.
Unlike other doctors who had previously
refused to go there, Dr Hashmi took to the
job in good cheer and requested Dr Ruth to
help him in organizing the dilapidated
structure. Twice a week visits were arranged
between McLeod Road and Manghopir and this
helped in re-establishing the institution.
Dr Hashmi proved himself to be an able
administrator.
Dr M. H. Rizvi the ophthalmologist at the
Spencer's Eye Hospital, was also one of the
few doctors who wouldn't refuse admitting a
leprosy patient to his hospital. He would be
amazed to see Ruth accompanying the patients
in a bus, then on foot from Lea Market to
the eye hospital. All to save them from
losing their sight.
It was this dedication that drew Dr Zarina
Fazalbhoy to McLeod Road in 1962. As the
dainty dermatologist entered the dingy
dispensary, Ruth ruled her out as another
'begum' from a wealthy home, who would offer
a few cauldrons of cooked biryani,
then hustle out. But Zarina proved her
mettle. She had a flourishing private
practice and initially offered to do the
microscopy, then settled down to do anything
and everything to help the group of young
foreigners. All ladies, all from different
lands, all speaking different languages, but
united in their mission to serve the poor.
It was during this time that the Queen of
England, Elizabeth II visited Pakistan.
Along with her, came an entourage of western
journalists. Passing throughKarachi's
commercial thoroughfare, some stumbled into
the lepers' colony. A few weeks later there
was a story in Bild, a German
tabloid, with the headline "...And at night
the rats attack!" This sensational heading
caught the eye of Hermann Kober in Wurzburg.
Kober happened to be the head of the German
Leprosy Relief Association. He immediately
traced the address of Ruth Pfau in Karachi
and wrote to her, "How is it that a German
doctor works in leprosy and the German
Leprosy Association does not even know about
it?" In response Ruth quipped, "How is it
that a German doctor working in leprosy does
not even know if a German Leprosy Relief
Association exists?" The courteous query
from Germany was, "What is it that we can do
for you?" McLeod Road sent a picture of its
cardboard dispensary devoid of any equipment
or trained personnel. The Wurzburg office
immediately dispatched supplies and a
trained nurse, Sister Elli.
* * * * *
It was Mckelvie who after a visit to Swat,
mentioned the name of Sultan Mohammad to
Ruth and suggested that she call him to
Karachi and train him as a leprosy
technician. Sultan Mohammad was a young
paramedical workerin the dispensary at Pir
Baba, a mountain village in Swat. The shrine
at Pir Baba was known to be a safe haven for
lepers from all over the north of Pakistan.
Many of them trickled into Karachi, for
begging. The benevolent Wali (ruler) of Swat
state had built up a dispensary, surrounded
by homes for these wretched leprosy
sufferers. Mckelvie had already taken
permission for Sultan Mohammad's training
from the Wali Abdul Haq Jehanzeb.
Adventure in the air
Sultan Mohammad arrived in Karachi in 1965
to attend a six months' course for the very
first batch of leprosy technicians. Ruth
prepared the syllabus with the help of
Zarina and both initiated the teaching of
basic anatomy, physiology and leprosy, to a
small group of candidates from the MALC
hospital, municipality and of course Sultan
Mohammad.
By the time the course ended, the first
major war between India and Pakistan had
started. The German embassy asked Ruth to
leave Pakistan. She refused. The air raid
sirens, the blackouts, the sound of
explosions in Karachi brought back to her
memories of her childhood experience during
the Second World War. The hospital windows
were immediately covered with shades, sand
bags were acquired for emergency cover. As
soon as the siren sounded its alarm, all
patients would be carried down to the safe
passage, on the ground floor. As long as the
raids lasted, she stayed where her patients
were.
The seventeen-day war ended with a
ceasefire. Plans kept pending were brought
forth. It was time to visit the North West
Frontier to supervise the work started by
the newly installed leprosy technician.
Mother Mary Doyle, who was now looking after
the administrative affairs of the hospital,
offered to chaperone. Clad in a grey
coloured shalwar kameez with tiny pink
flowers and a matching dupatta covering her
head and shoulders, Ruth embarked on a plane
for Peshawar together with Mother Doyle.
Sultan Mohammad who had been informed about
their arrival was nowhere to be seen at
Peshawar airport. After a long wait, Mother
Doyle gestured to a tonga (horse
carriage) to take them to the main bazar,
from where they could get a taxi for Pir
Baba. Both the ladies settled into the back
seat of the tonga facing the road -
Ruth in her floral shalwar kameez, Mother
Doyle in a knee length skirt. But as she
perched up on the seat, Mother found her
skirt lifting itself up above her knees.
What followed was a procession of young
Pathan boys riding on bicycles, their loose
shirts and baggy shalwars fluttering in the
air, as they shrieked with joy at the sight
of Mother Doyle's rounded shins. Ruth grew
pale with embarrassment, but the
sixty-year-old Irish American tall and hefty
in her pompous skirt, thoroughly enjoyed all
the attention showered upon her on the
tree-lined streets of the frontier town.
Once in the bazar as they stood looking for
a taxi, they found themselves to be the only
women around and again the centre of much
attention. There were fierce looking men
with guns hung around their shoulders.
Suddenly Ruth caught a glimpse of Sultan
Mohammad heading towards them. As their eyes
met, he praised Allah and she thanked the
Lord. Soon they were in a bus on their way
to Swat.
The bus moved from the lush irrigated
farmlands of the vale of Peshawar towards
the formidable mountain ranges across a
rugged terrain. On one side of the unpaved
tract were high mountains, on the other side
deep ravines. As the overcrowded bus swayed
right and left on the narrow path, mother
Doyle took out her rosary. Ruth frightened
to death didn't believe her ears, when
Sultan Mohammad proudly announced that they
had reached his hometown.
The arrangements for the stay of the two
foreign ladies were made in the residential
quarters of the shrine. The only problem was
that, there was no toilet or a place for
them to take a bath. The open space above
the stream was the only option. Ruth felt
guilty for spoiling the beautiful
environment.
Next morning they woke up to a panoramic
view of the stately mountain peaks, their
steep slopes lined with deodar, fir and pine
trees and the sheep grazing in the meadows
down below. Ruth fell into a prayerful
meditation.
After a cup of hot, brewing kahwa and
crisp nan, they set down to work. The
village was surveyed, men, women and
children were examined, medicines given and
wounds dressed. When the time came to rest
at the end of a long tiring day, Shamsher,
the watchman, pulled his charpoy
close to the entrance of the women's
quarter, to guard the two foreign guests.
Both Mary Doyle and Ruth were touched by
Pakistan's gentle hospitality. They had
already noticed during the day, how men
approaching from the other side of the
street had averted their looks on seeing
them from afar. The courtesy of otherwise
fierce looking, gun toting Pathans blended
well with the clear transparent waters of
the gushing streams, that flowed across
their magnificent land.
After a few weeks Ruth returned to Karachi,
triumphant in the knowledge that a six
months' course was sound enough, to empower
the local boys to take charge of their work
in the field. The fact that she had openly
moved in the mountain country, where a woman
would not otherwise dare to venture out of
the confines of her father's or husband's
home, gave her a feeling of elation.
Wherever she had been - from the segregated
male hujras to the deputy
commissioner's office - they had given her
respect. She had fallen in love with the
land, which had made her feel so much at
home. The air around was filled with
adventure.
Back in Karachi she came across a villager
from Swat. He had escaped from his village
after overhearing the decision of the elders
at the village jirga. The sinister
patches on his skin had been seen. The fate
of one with leprosy in the surrounding
villages had always been death.
He was sent back to his village after a few
months of successful treatment and
assurance. Several years later when Ruth
visited his village, she was surprised to
see him as the village chief, happily
married and with healthy kids. Strange are
the ways of God, she had smilingly thought.
Zia Mutaher is a
physician who works at the Marie Adelaide
Leprosy Centre, Karachi.
This is the life story of a German doctor,
Ruth Pfau. She came to Karachi in 1960 and
decided to stay on to work for leprosy
patients. She founded the Marie Adelaide
Leprosy Centre, where she still works.
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