| Egypt's last leper colony broaches time of integration Leprosy patients reluctant to leave colony despite change in attitude towards sufferersIt was 59 years ago that Ahmed Ali was grabbed from his house by the Egyptian security services and bundled into an unmarked car, but he remembers the day with perfect clarity. "A neighbour contacted the authorities and told them that I had the leprosy disease, and in those days that's all it took," he said. "I was confused and I was terrified. I had no idea where they were taking me."Ali's destination was Abu Zaabal, Egypt's only surviving leprosy colony. Back in the 1950s this was an isolated community set deep in the Egyptian desert and guarded day and night by camel-mounted policemen.Now, following significant medical advances and a sea-change in social attitudes towards leprosy, Abu Zaabal's doors have finally been thrown open again. But, despite their new freedom, its residents are refusing to leave. "This place is paradise," said Ali. "Why would I want to go?"The future of the colony is now at the heart of a debate about how sufferers of one of the most stigmatising diseases can be reintegrated into society. "Colonies were built for an era where the only known treatment for leprosy was complete quarantine," said Dr Salah Abd El-Naby, head of the leprosy programme at Egypt's ministry of health. "That's no longer the case."Despite specialist outpatient clinics having opened up in every governorate in the country, negating the need for the isolation of leprosy patients, official efforts to bring Abu Zaabal's days as a separate community to an end have been met with stiff resistance from the patients themselves.The story of Abu Zaabal begins in 1933, when a leprosy colony was established in what was then a remote wasteland 20 miles outside of Cairo. Originally intended to be a self-sustaining community incorporating 125 acres of farmland, patients brought to Abu Zaabal instead found themselves locked in an open-air prison with little contact with the outside world. Shunned by fearful locals and with few resources to fall back on, the colony soon slipped into disrepair."You can't imagine what it was like back then," recalled Gian Vittoria, an Italian nun who arrived at Abu Zaabal in 1985. "The government hired nuns from abroad to treat patients here because no Egyptian nurses would come near the place. When we arrived we found it completely trashed."Over the past decade, though, a series of dramatic improvements has transformed the largest leprosy colony in the Middle East into a thriving village of 6,000 people.Three-quarters of them are former leprosy patients who rely on the colony hospital for ongoing medication; many have married and had children, while some outsiders have also been attracted to job opportunities inside the compound. "Everything's different now," explained Dr Ahmed Rashad, director of Abu Zaabal's hospital. He grew up in a nearby town and remembers his school friends spreading dark rumours about the colony, which was situated far from roads and across a river. "Leprosy had a fearsome reputation back then and we were all scared of the patients living behind those walls. Now a lot of money has come in from foreign donors and we have a bakery, a kitchen, a shoe workshop and even a broom factory; even those with quite severe deformities are offered employment tending to the gardens and keeping the place clean."Formerly far removed from other settlements, Abu Zaabal has now been enveloped by Cairo's rapidly-expanding urban sprawl; where empty desert once stood, the capital's fringes have crept right up to the colony's doors. The patients' new proximity to wider society has reflected a shift in global attitudes towards leprosy, also known as Hansen's disease – one of the oldest medical conditions on record.In the middle ages sufferers of leprosy in some parts of the world were made to wear bells and use separate currency due to the assumed contagiousness of the disease, and as recently as 1985 it was still considered a significant health issue in 122 countries.Modern research, however, has shown that 95% of people are naturally immune to leprosy and that the disease is not hereditary; in the past 20 years multi-drug therapy has cured 15 million patients, and the days when forced quarantine was considered the only possible treatment have long been left behind.According to El-Naby, that is why the residents of Abu Zaabal are now free to come and go as they please. In recent years, less than 200 patients have chosen to move outside of the colony's walls."I spent my youth here, I built a house here, I married my wife here – this is the place I've constructed my life," insisted Radi Gamal, a 40-year-old who was brought to Abu Zaabal from the northern Egyptian town of Beni Suef while in his teens. His friend, Yasin Ali, who earns 150 Egyptian pounds (£16)a month doing plumbing jobs in the colony, agrees. "This used to be a prison, and yes we're now allowed to leave," he observed while playing dominoes on one of the colony's neatly trimmed lawns."But outside these walls when I see people who are fine looking at my deformed hands, I feel ashamed. Here we're all the same, there's a sense of belonging."As in other parts of the world where individuals living with leprosy are concentrated, self-stigmatisation of patients and misconceptions held by non-sufferers about how the disease is transmitted continue to act as barriers to full integration."People in the surrounding areas are still afraid, there's no point pretending otherwise," said Vittoria. "But today you see many Egyptians arriving with food, clothes and other donations, and the patients themselves have helped build a remarkably successful home. The story of Abu Zaabal is a happy one."EgyptJack Shenkerguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds guardian.co.uk |
Call to define rules of cyber war Nations need to define under what circumstances they can fight back against acts of cyber terror. bbc.co.uk |
Facebook campaign could see Ireland appoint first gay president Senator David Norris says 1,000-strong group on site prompted him to step forward for the presidencyIreland may elect its first openly gay president, thanks to the social networking site Facebook.The current frontrunner to succeed Mary McAleese as head of state in the Irish Republic admits that it was a Facebook campaign that prompted him to step forward for the presidency.Two recent opinion polls have put the independent senator David Norris ahead of all other possible candidates. His election next autumn would mark an astonishing change in a country once regarded as one of the most conservative Catholic nations in Europe.Inside a cramped office in the Irish parliament, and surrounded by 200 boxes of correspondence he is about to hand over to the Irish national archives, Senator Norris tells the Guardian he put his name forward only after hearing of a Facebook group with nearly 1,000 members calling for him to stand."I've started very early in response to the Facebook campaign," Norris laughs."One of the Irish Sunday newspapers rang me up and said, 'Do you know that nearly 1,000 people have signed on Facebook calling for you to stand for the presidency?' It was Facebook which started all this, absolutely."I think it is very important to use modern technology. It helped get President Obama to win the election."Although, like the British monarchy's, the Irish president's power is more symbolic than real, elections to the post have previously been used to protest against the Republic's political establishment. Norris is non-aligned, and is hoping to tap into the widespread discontent over the profligacy of the Celtic tiger years and the way the state's main party, Fianna Fáil, handled the economy.Norris denies his sexuality will be an issue even in more conservative rural parts of Ireland."It's a non-issue," he says. "It's a non-issue with the people of Ireland. Some may have some concerns, and I hope I am able to address them. I have just had a major radio interview in Dublin and the interviewer asked me about it, and people came on the programme to say 'Will you get out of that? What does it matter! We want someone with vision ... someone who is independent.'"The only person who said they would not vote [for] me live on air was a gay man. He rang in to say it was great that a gay man was standing for the presidency but that I was far too leftwing for him. I respect that man because he has parked what he sees as an irrelevant issue and instead goes on to analyse what I stand for."However, the bearded, gregarious former academic and James Joyce expert accepts that if he were elected it would be a global story. And he would use this fame, especially in the United States, to "sell Ireland"."Anybody else elected as president of Ireland I don't think is going to get the same kind of sensational news coverage. And I think that's splendid, because if I went to Washington as president every single news channel will be there hungry for a story. I have been around long enough to deal with that story with dignity and then move on to talk about Ireland, to sell our country."A practising Anglican, Norris rejects the notion that his campaign will come under fire from Catholic traditionalists. He claims to count the current Catholic archbishop of Dublin, Dr Diarmud Martin, as a friend.On certain key ethical questions, Norris will find himself at odds with the Catholic bishops, however. He says it is a "disgrace" that Ireland has no clear legislation on stem cell research, for example. But the senator says he would be "very surprised" if the hierarchy attacked him during the campaign."The [Catholic] church has become wiser, and there have been so many difficulties for the church over the scandals," he said, referring to the revelations of child abuse in Catholic institutions. "So I don't think the church is likely to intervene and condemn me as an individual. Those days are gone."One of the last acts of Mary McAleese's two terms as president will be the expected visit of a British queen to Ireland for the first time since the Republic's foundation. Norris says he is strongly in favour of a royal visit as it would further strengthen Anglo-Irish relations.Asked if he was worried about tabloid intrusion or muckraking over his sexuality during the campaign, Norris responds cheerfully: "I have lived a decent, respectable life, and there has been no scandal."Then he returns to his voluminous correspondence, some of which is from people facing grave financial problems; some of those are even contemplating taking their own lives.Norris points to the stacks of boxes filling up his office and says: "There are some desperate people out there looking for help and advice. I pass their details on to organisations who can help and advise them. Sometimes I feel more like a counsellor than a senator." Gay rightsIrelandFacebookInternetSocial networkingHenry McDonaldguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds guardian.co.uk |
Typhoon hits Taiwan and Philippines Typhoon Megi has been wreaking havoc in Southeast Asia this week, killing at least 26 people in the Philippines and 12 so far in Taiwan, where 26 others are missing. bbc.co.uk |
Favela tweets Rio teenager uses Twitter to tell world about events in his favela bbc.co.uk |