Dr. Jamal Eltaeb, an orthopedic surgeon, navigated constant life-or-death decisions for three years while leading Al Nao hospital in Omdurman, Sudan, as the capital region became a battleground. His unwavering commitment kept a vital medical facility operational for thousands, even as nearly 40% of the nation's hospitals ceased to function, according to the Associated Press. "I weighed the options of staying here, and taking care of your patients and helping other people that need you," he told the news agency.
The sounds of shelling have receded from Omdurman, but the scars remain. Al Nao hospital, once a quiet facility with nearly 100 beds often empty, now stands as a testament to human endurance, its walls patched, its grounds still bearing the marks of conflict. Dr.
Eltaeb, 54, walks its corridors, pointing to a window struck by ordnance, a blast that killed a patient's relative. He guides visitors to a lone tent, the last of many erected to handle mass casualties during the fighting's peak. The conflict may have moved on, but the infrastructure crisis it created persists, leaving few options for care.
Eltaeb's own hospital closed shortly after the war ignited in April 2023. He moved to Al Nao, taking charge by July as most of the staff fled the escalating violence. The paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) captured swathes of Khartoum, driving patients towards Omdurman.
Al Nao became a critical refuge. He and a handful of dedicated employees and volunteers struggled to maintain operations. Electricity outages lasted weeks.
The facility relied on the Sudanese army for generator fuel. Basic medicines, like antibiotics and painkillers, quickly ran out. The hospital became a target.
In August 2023, Al Nao suffered its first direct hit. Eltaeb recounted to the Associated Press. The RSF struck the hospital three more times after that initial attack.
Normality had crumbled. The soft-spoken surgeon, a father of three, distributed sweets to a steady stream of patients and staff, all vying for his attention. Decisions became nearly impossible.
Eltaeb and his team scrambled to triage over 100 wounded individuals after a strike hit a nearby market. Eight of them died. "You choose... as if you can choose who is going to live and who is going to die," he explained. The day worsened.
He faced the choice of amputating on children without full anesthetic due to heavy bleeding and no time for an operating room transfer. Using local anesthetic, he removed an arm and a leg from a 9-year-old boy and a leg from his 11-year-old sister. These are not abstract numbers; these are lives irrevocably altered.
Eltaeb now scrolls through photos of such surgeries on his phone, attempting to convey a horror few can grasp. This level of personal sacrifice and ingenuity became typical across Omdurman. The hospital relied on volunteers to keep supplies moving.
Nazar Mohamed, a volunteer, spent months cycling around the city, delivering essential items while explosions echoed. Pharmacists provided keys to their shuttered shops, allowing volunteers to collect medicines and other necessities for free. Other donations arrived from organizations and individuals abroad.
A network of Sudanese doctors overseas provided remote advice, guiding staff on managing mass casualties or improvising when antibiotics or anesthesia were scarce. Remaining staffers crafted beds and crutches from wood. They used clothes as makeshift splints.
This was not a system; it was improvisation. Sudan's conflict, entering its fourth year, has displaced more than 8 million people. The World Health Organization reports that nearly 40% of Sudan's hospitals no longer function.
Many have been stripped for parts or repurposed by armed groups as bases. The capital, Khartoum, has seen control shift between the Sudanese army and the RSF multiple times. Al Nao hospital's survival, therefore, is not merely a local story; it reflects a broader collapse of public services.
Here is what they are not telling you: the official figures for casualties and displacement only scratch the surface of the true human cost. The United Nations warns the country's health system is near collapse. This is not hyperbole.
Eltaeb has seen confirm it. While global attention focuses on conflicts in the Middle East and Ukraine, Sudan's crisis deepens, a testament to shifting geopolitical priorities. Follow the leverage, not the rhetoric; the aid flows where the major powers perceive immediate strategic interests.
The economic toll extends beyond the immediate destruction. Osman Ismail Osman, director of Al Shaabi hospital across town, describes the government's several hundred thousand dollars in aid as "a drop in the bucket." His hospital, occupied by the RSF during the war, lies in ruins. Dusty, broken medical equipment worth millions of dollars is piled up.
Chunks of concrete mix with twisted metal beds. The math does not add up: the scale of the destruction far outstrips the resources currently allocated for recovery. Eltaeb and his team offers a stark contrast to the systemic failures.
Their actions underscore the broader significance of individual courage when state institutions crumble. This is about more than just medical care; it is about maintaining a shred of order in chaos. Why It Matters: The survival of hospitals like Al Nao, against overwhelming odds, highlights the fragility of essential services in conflict zones and the extraordinary lengths individuals go to preserve them.
For millions of Sudanese, access to even basic medical care remains a daily struggle. Eltaeb is a powerful reminder that global conflicts have intensely personal consequences, often ignored by international headlines. It underscores the urgent need for sustained international attention and resources, not just during active fighting, but throughout the long, difficult phase of reconstruction.
The failure to support these efforts risks further destabilization and a prolonged humanitarian crisis, impacting regional security and contributing to future migration flows. Jamal Eltaeb kept Al Nao hospital operational in Omdurman for three years despite bombings and severe resource shortages. - Nearly 40% of Sudan's hospitals are non-functional, reflecting a widespread collapse of the healthcare system. - Volunteers and international networks provided critical support, improvising medical solutions amid the conflict. - The global community's focus on other conflicts has left Sudan's humanitarian crisis severely under-addressed. Fighting has shifted away from the Khartoum area.
Some funding-strained organizations that supported Al Nao now direct resources to more immediate needs elsewhere. Eltaeb reports that his hospital has enough money to cover salaries and generator fuel until June. After that, Al Nao will require approximately $40,000 per month to maintain operations.
While some countries have pledged support for Sudan's reconstruction, concerns exist that the broader war with Iran might divert attention and resources, particularly from Gulf countries. Hospitals hit harder than Al Nao remain in ruins and need substantially more. Osman's ambitious goal of reopening Al Shaabi hospital for emergency referrals within weeks faces immense challenges.
Eltaeb, who have already done their utmost.
Key Takeaways
— - Dr. Jamal Eltaeb kept Al Nao hospital operational in Omdurman for three years despite bombings and severe resource shortages.
— - Nearly 40% of Sudan's hospitals are non-functional, reflecting a widespread collapse of the healthcare system.
— - Volunteers and international networks provided critical support, improvising medical solutions amid the conflict.
— - The global community's focus on other conflicts has left Sudan's humanitarian crisis severely under-addressed.
Source: AP News
