Among My Own: The Untold Stories of My People
By Dr Naseem Salahuddin
Yaqeen Art Press, Karachi
ISBN: 978-9692368803
262pp.

In their busy day-to-day life, physicians come across many patients, so it is but natural that most of them would be forgotten. Some, however, leave an indelible mark and become etched in memory, either because of their uniqueness or the circumstances in which the doctor treats them. Among My Own: The Untold Stories of My People by Dr Naseem Salahuddin is a recollection of some such memorable patients whom the physician encountered over her decades-long practice.

Dr Salahuddin is a specialist in infectious diseases, such as complicated tuberculosis, hepatitis, typhoid and HIV. She currently heads the department of infectious diseases at the Indus Hospital, Karachi, and has previously worked at the Liaquat National Hospital and Aga Khan University Hospital.

This anthology of 56 real-life stories of patients from different segments of society provides an insight into the lives of the people around us, whom we may or may not always notice, but who we would have definitely come across at some point in time. Shedding light on diverse social, economic, familial and personal backgrounds, it also allows readers to be privy to the peculiar values people choose to uphold.

During the 1980s and ’90s, Dr Salahuddin wrote these stories as part of a weekly column in Dawn and they were well received by the newspaper’s readers. After a lapse of many years, on the persuasion of family and friends, the memories have been compiled in book form.

An anthology of 56 real-life stories of patients from different segments of society provides an insight into the lives of the people around us as well as diverse prevailing social issues

In the prologue, the good doctor terms her profession unique; because of her work she meets “people from across the wide canvas of society, the rich and the poor, the arrogant and the humble, the powerful and the meek. They come to me for their illness, but often let me into their lives and share their personal stories, which are often tragic, sometimes amusing, but always interesting.”

However, being a physician of “diseases that mainly affect the marginalised population”, she sees a far higher number of people from the lower strata of society. Such patients often consider a doctor “mai baap” [parental figures] and are less hesitant to share the intimate details of their lives and their families. This has allowed Dr Salahuddin to “gain insight into the hearts and minds of the most dispossessed of humanity.”

The stories in the collection are built upon a number of health issues and their descriptions are, of course, by no means palatable. Some are downright harrowing — of one 22-year old, the doctor writes: “The skin [on his entire body] peeled off in shreds. His eyelids, too, were swollen and shut; if you pried open his eyes … bits of material sloughed off on to your gloves.”

What makes it especially appalling is that this condition was caused not by a disease as such, but by a reaction to an assortment of medicines prescribed by the neighbourhood quack for a simple fever. The patient, until then a much in-demand tailor, was left blind and with no recourse but to beg on the street.

The author manages to deal with the very serious subject of her book in a manner that is relatable to ordinary readers; there is no complicated medical terminology or confusing stats, just the facts given in simple narrative.

Health issues are not the only things she writes about. Her stories also cover diverse social issues such as “misogynism shown by both men and women, obsession with marriage of girls, and girls not permitted to make decisions concerning their future life partners … College educated or illiterate, wealthy or impoverished, a girl’s marriage is the burning theme that consumes our society.”

She writes how obsession with marriage has turned the institution into a social ill, and made it a leading cause of many problems. She writes about forced marriages, so-called ‘honour killing’, patriarchy, the low status of women and about men taking decisions about the number of children a woman should bear without any regard for her health and well-being.

From time to time, Dr Salahuddin compares our attitudes with those of Western society and their approach to life. For instance, in ‘Forever Young’, she talks about the patient’s right to know about their illness and describes how one ailing man’s family hid from him the fact that he had cancer. The man lay in bed, becoming “increasingly withdrawn and depressed”, while his wife and daughters read from the Holy Quran and blew prayers over him, giving him false hopes of recovery.

The author contrasts this with “Frank”, whom she and her husband met while travelling. When Frank discovered he had cancer, he decided to enjoy whatever little life was left as much as he could. Both men were destined to die from similar causes, but their family’s and their doctors’ stance changed the way they spent their last days.

This difference in attitudes is not only in terms of health and illness, but attitude towards others in general. In ‘The Gang of Four’, the author narrates how, on a flight to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, four middle-aged women in “long, black abayas and tight-fitting headscarves” criticised a young girl and her upbringing just because of the way she was dressed. “I would never consider her for my Rashid,” declared one “ostensibly pious” woman. Overhearing the woman’s ridiculously unrealistic standards, the author surmises that Rashid is destined to remain wifeless.

After her transit stop at Jeddah airport, where the black-clad Gang of Four disembarks, Dr Salahuddin continues on to her destination. In New York, she sees a young man with piercings, tattoos and long hair but, even though his appearance “screamed for attention and begged to be criticised”, everyone around is oblivious to him, and he to them.

One very insightful read is ‘Baron von Munchausen’. In it, a young girl repeatedly visits Dr Salahuddin with strange, undiagnosable symptoms. It transpires that the girl was feigning illness because she was unhappy because of her parents’ divorce and her separation from her father. ‘The Blessings of Allah Sain’ is also about feigned illness, in which a family of three fakes being ill to extort money from kind-hearted people. Theirs is a scam which would be familiar to many of us.

‘Allah Provides for All’ is about a couple with 22 children because they do not practise birth control. Other than the usual scrapes children are wont to get into, one child is epileptic, another has a heart defect, a third has brain damage. The family is financially weak, hardly any of the children go to school and the little ones spend their day playing in the lanes.

Each spouse blames the other for this explosion of offspring. Although one would assume that a woman would want to limit the number of children she births, here it is the man saying his wife would do nothing “in this regard.” He absolves himself of all responsibility because “it is a woman’s job to bear children, not a man’s.”

The wife, meanwhile, vehemently chooses to do nothing because why should she be the “gunahgar” [sinful] one. The author’s comments on increasing population growth are worth reading.

Dr Salahuddin writes in the prologue that the stories “may seem mundane to some readers, but they all reveal the unseen side of human nature in its rawest form … I have garnered anecdotes of the poor and the rich, the oppressed and the oppressors, to illuminate the strengths and frailties of human nature.”

As well as providing an understanding of social inequalities, the anthology can also be used as a worthwhile tool for young clinicians, allowing them to become aware of the human side of medicine, of the complexities that arise from people’s anxieties and beliefs. People bring to the doctor so much more than an illness and the book will help young medical practitioners develop the understanding and compassion needed to deal with despairing poverty, lack of education and misguidance.

The stories are written in a simple and reader-friendly manner. Little illustrations accompany each and the Urdu words, though sparingly used, retain the flavour and originality of the dialogue; those not familiar with them can look up the glossary given at the end.

The reviewer is a freelance journalist and tweets @naqviriz

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, October 16th, 2022