صدیق رهپو طرزی
Islamic mercy !
When I become aware of the arrival of refugees – some use the word of immigrant in wrong way and mix it with refugee. The basic different is that immigration is a legal entering to a country and refuge is illegal.
The new waves are refugees who want to escape due to lack of security in Afghanistan and finding new and better life from Iran and Pakistan.
These refugees were crossing the borders of Turkey and East European countries. I found out that that among them there are Afghans. With the help of Professor Schultz ( A pseudo name) a friend of mine whom I know for a decade, I contacted the refugee arrival office of Goettingen city to help them.
They have accepted my offer with appreciation, and they said that they have got new information about refugees’ arrivals and we are preparing the ground for receiving them and knew that they need help and communication, especially in their native languages.
The refugee arrival office authority said that they are waiting until they gather those refugees in one place and then will be send to other areas as Goettingen.
I have followed every day the development of situation and procedure of attitude toward them by media.
At the end of day,one of the refugee department officials informed me that the first group after the division of Munich and Friedland, another town close by, came to Goettingen. I had a phone number, so I contacted the office and went there.
The person responsible told me to wait, as there was another Afghan already helping them by contract.
After a while, a person from Heart came and greets me.
Many years ago I knew his father who is passed away now. He was a poet and I listening to his poems and enjoyed them.We had good conversation and long talk on Persian literature.
I had met his father couple of times but never see him there.
As he told me later, when they took refuge to Germany and settled down in Goettingen, he was a little child. After he found out that I knew his father, he became more friendlier.
I told him on spot and very frankly that I would like to work as an volunteer and will help a human being from every land, and people of my country. He said that, he would need to consult with his Afghan colleague. When he mentioned his name I realised that he lives since 1980s here and entered as a refugee at that time.
I gave him my visit card and a reminder that whenever I was needed they can contact me.
After a while, there was no news. However, I heard on the radio that groups of refugees are transferred to the city.
Finally, he called me and apologised for forgetting about that matter,(!) he would like some more information about me.
I would not like to go into details what happened between him and the German authorities, it is another painful story, which is running since long time among us.
Few days later, a German woman gives me a number to contact. Any ways some one called D contacted me to take one Afghan man to the physician who complains about stomach pain. After contacting him by mobile phone I found out that he came from Daikundi a new province in the centre of Afghanistan. He had an appointment next day and we met at the doctor’s praxis.
He was in his mid forties with medium height. His sun burnt face and deep wrinkles showed that he had done tough labor, work and physical activities, in city of Mashhad of Iran.
With one or two words, we got introduced and used to talk to each other frankly. His wife and children were left in Mashhad. Around 6 years ago, he moved to Iran for a better life. He told me stories of behaviour of Iranian who have the same sect of Islamic religion as him were painful and sad. I will share those painful tales next time.
I asked him what pain he is suffering from? His hands which were showing the tiredness of heavy physical work, he put them on his stomach, saying years ago in Mashhad he got stomach pain, and the doctor told him that his Gall Bladder needs to be removed. He had to pay a huge amount of money to the doctor for his operation for which he and his wife worked day and night.
Since then, he has a lot of pain and very acidic stomach. After each meal he felt to vomit.
When we entered the physician of interior, he was feeling very surprised from the kind behaviour of the nurses and people in the waiting room. He did not want to take of his overcoat, as he feared losing it. Then I showed him where he can put his jacket.
I spoke to him about the life and code of behaviours here. After some deep thinks, he said himself that these people have very human and Islamic behaviour. They are real Moslems !
Although he was illiterate, he seemed to be very clever and sharp mind. Any ways he was called for examination and we both went to examination room. Again, the kindness of the doctor shocked him. While examining his internal organs, the doctor suddenly screamed loud and his hands were shaking, he could not believe his eyes, he told me to be silent and come to the other room with him. The patient did not know what happened. His examination finished, he went to the waiting room, the nurse came and asked me that the doctor wants to speak with me in privat. I went back to see the doctor, he was shocked and shivering, the doctor told me that what is done to the patient it is not in any medical book, during the operation of his Gall Bladder while he was in anaesthesia they did some thing which is a huge crime. They removed his kidney. The doctor requested me to ask the patient if he did that voluntarily or they have removed his kidney with out his consent. I said to the doctor that it would not be appropriate at the moment to ask him such question.
The doctor insisted that he has moral responsibility towards such matter.
I called him to the doctor’s room and spoke to him slowly about his operation in Mashhad. He look like he had an electric shock, he was shivering and his tears came like flood from his eyes, with shaking voice he said that he never knew about this, and he said that the Iranian surgeon did that to sale his kidney without his consent during Gall Bladder operation.
In that time I remembered a documentary film that showed on the white walls of the streets of Mashhad, there was written “ Kidney for Sale” under this writing there was a phone number provided.
The man had nearly fainted, nurses came to help him and give him medicine. I called the office and took a taxi as there was no car available.
Note: More sad and tragic stories to come…