Noorjehan Abdul Majid, former director of the central hospital in Maputo, Mozambique, is a beloved and respected figure, often considered the mother of thousands of children she helped bring into the world free of the virus from HIV-positive mothers. In 2002, she began collaborating with the DREAM program of the Community of Sant’Egidio, which introduced free antiretroviral therapy for AIDS in Mozambique for the first time. Currently, Noorjehan Abdul Majid serves as the clinical director of the DREAM program.
How did your passion for this work begin, and what are the greatest challenges of working in a place like Beira?
My passion for this work stems from a dream my grandfather had. While hospitalized, he was treated by a female doctor, and upon returning home, he expressed his wish that one of his granddaughters would pursue that profession in the future. In the 1980s, in my country, Muslim women typically studied only up to elementary school, focusing thereafter on family and home care. One of his last wishes before passing was for one of his granddaughters to study medicine to help people in need. I was ten years old at the time. Out of all my cousins, I was the only one who had the opportunity to study.
The most significant challenge of working in Beira, Mozambique, is the massive influx of migrants due to the ongoing war in the northern part of the country and the natural disasters caused by climate change, such as cyclones and floods, which destroy everything. Many people migrate because they can no longer make a living or seek medical care where they live. With the DREAM project, we go to refugee camps to provide medical support, but often we find only women and children because the men are in the cities searching for work. These men also need treatment for conditions that, if left untreated, could become chronic, such as hypertension, diabetes, etc.
Part of our work focuses on raising awareness about health prevention. For example, two years ago, we launched a program to treat epilepsy: in Africa, there are still many superstitions surrounding this condition, which is often not recognized as an illness and therefore not treated with medication.
For the fourth consecutive year, the Italian Buddhist Institute Soka Gakkai, through the 8×1000 funds, has ensured free healthcare services at the DREAM multipurpose center, the nutritional center, and the mobile clinic. What is the DREAM project, and what does working in this program mean to you?
The DREAM program has been active since the 2000s, initially launched to address the significant problem of AIDS and to provide medication to people developing chronic diseases as a result of the illness. Over time, it evolved into a more structured and integrated healthcare program. Another critical aspect of DREAM’s work is the prevention of cervical cancer, which is one of the leading causes of death among women here.
DREAM’s greatest achievement was introducing free treatment for HIV-positive pregnant women to prevent the transmission of HIV to their children. It was incredibly moving to see the first babies born HIV-negative. Ensuring that new generations are born healthy has been a tremendous accomplishment. Recently, I met one of the girls we saved with this treatment, and I was moved when she told me she is studying to become a doctor.
I graduated in 1998 and started working with DREAM in 2001. This is a comprehensive prevention and care program, with a holistic approach—it’s not just about providing medication. For me, it’s a mission that I carry out with great love. Looking back, it feels like time has flown by. When you work with passion, time passes quickly.
In the DREAM project, we have many activists and volunteers, people who were once patients and have become “testimonials” for the program. Those who have gone through this experience gain greater self-esteem, profoundly change their lives, and it is wonderful that they now encourage many others.
Is there a specific story or testimony you would like to share?
There are many wonderful stories. I remember the first time I cried during a visit. A woman used to come for treatment, always bringing her little daughter. Sadly, the woman passed away one day. We had a tradition in the clinic of giving Christmas gifts to the children, so I invited the little girl to choose a gift. She looked at me and said, “As a gift, I want you to bring my mother back.” I burst into tears. I told her she could consider me her mother. She still calls me “mother” today.
These are the difficult aspects of this work that are often not seen from the outside because people think it is just about providing medication. Another experience involves a boy who came with his parents, both of whom were very ill. His father passed away, and he moved to another village with his mother. After a few years, he returned to find me, asking if I remembered him, and told me that his mother had also died. He expressed a desire to start treatment, even though he was only twelve years old. He began treatment, later studied medicine, and is now working with us, becoming an exceptional person.
Is there a message you would like to share with young people to encourage them to help those who are suffering?
When I chose to become a doctor, I was ten years old and wanted to help people. During my journey, I found myself working with HIV when there was no cure for the disease. We could only test people and then, if positive, tell them they were sick, nothing more. Thanks to the Community of Sant’Egidio, it became possible to introduce antiretroviral therapy in Mozambique. This taught me that there is always hope to help others.
What I want to say, especially to young people, is that we must always have hope. If you say, “I can’t do it! I’ll never make it there!” then you certainly won’t. In the past, I worked in a hospital with a room called the “boarding room”: I asked if those patients were being transferred somewhere. They told me those were people who would die soon, so they were left there, assuming they would soon depart on that journey. They discouraged me from doing anything for them. I refused, explaining that I had the responsibility on my shoulders to help and care for those who were ill. I was a newly graduated doctor and wanted to treat everyone, but in that context, there was no hope.
The message I want to give to young people is that when we face an obstacle, we must look beyond the wall. Move forward, don’t run away, but learn to confront situations because there is always a solution. This is what I have learned and continue to strive for today. When others tell me something is impossible, I respond that it is possible. Let’s never stop caring for people, and I’m not just referring to health issues. There are many elderly people who feel lonely and many children abandoned on the streets. Many come to us because they want some company. We are all responsible for caring for those in need, not just doctors, but all of us.