Katrina was two months pregnant when she fled violence in Sudan. She found safety at a displacement camp, but worried about getting the medical care she and her unborn baby needed.

In her eighth month of pregnancy, Medical Teams began providing care at the camp. Katrina received prenatal checkups, supplements, and the support she needed.

When it was time to give birth, a midwife named Seham stayed by Katrina’s side through labor until her daughter’s first cry replaced her own. Katrina named her Jackline, after one of the doctors who cared for them.

“Without their help, my daughter wouldn’t be alive.”

A new chapter, just beginning.

A bombing near a market in Sudan’s capital left Saif with a shattered ankle. He made it to another city for an operation before fighting overtook it too.

Forced to move again with his wound still open and infection setting in, Saif eventually reached a gathering site for displaced families near the eastern border.

Medical Teams treated the infection and dressed his wound until he could stand again.

Today, Saif is on crutches, waiting for another surgery — and for the day he can reunite with his wife and children.

“I want people to know that they are going to find kind, selfless, and supportive people wherever they go. They just cannot lose hope.”

Still walking. Not home yet.

Bacumi had already buried a husband and a daughter when years of grief and illness became more than her body could carry. One day, her family brought her unconscious to the clinic.

A Medical Teams doctor discovered years of untreated malaria and dangerously high blood pressure.

But her care didn’t stop with medication.

Counseling gave Bacumi a place to talk about the sorrow beneath her sickness. Three months later, she was cooking for her grandchildren and spending time with neighbors again.

Still carrying her sorrow, but no longer carrying it alone.

For 18 years, Bapfumukeko lived with pain and bleeding no doctor could explain. She couldn’t work, walk to her neighbors’ homes, or sit through church. Her husband bathed her and cared for her.

When she finally reached a Medical Teams clinic, an exam uncovered what years of hospital visits had missed — and treatment began.

“I felt alive again. God bless Medical Teams. I can’t believe I’m squeezing my abdomen and not feeling discomfort.”

Years of caring for Bapfumukeko had also taken a toll on her husband. He is now receiving care for depression and high blood pressure.

“We will all be at ease once he has healed.”

Healed, and still healing — together.

Displaced from Tigray by war, Meresa was caring for her infant twins when a nutrition screening found both children severely malnourished.

Medical Teams enrolled the family in a feeding program, providing weekly therapeutic food, medication, support, and guidance to help Meresa keep her children healthy at home.

Her babies are growing stronger.

But Meresa’s story is still unfolding. She dreams of returning home and continuing the life war interrupted.

Two little lives, growing stronger.

When four-year-old Niyukuri’s fever spiked and his stomach hardened with pain, his mother, Nibizi, feared the worst.

At the clinic, Medical Teams discovered severe malaria and a dangerously low blood count. Medical workers immediately began treatment, including oxygen and transfusions.

Today, Niyukuri is home.

But his recovery continues.

“Now, my dream is for his complete recovery from malaria. I pray to God for his healing.”

Home again. Still praying for complete healing.

Ninety days into recovery from methamphetamine addiction, Don wandered over to a services fair and found a dental chair waiting.

Years of drug use had left most of his teeth broken or missing. Eating was difficult, and when he spoke, he often covered his mouth.

One tooth came out that day. Don left with a referral for dentures.

There’s more dental work ahead—just as there’s more work ahead in his recovery.

Ninety days down. Still counting.

Before war changed everything, Asma was a psychologist, wife, and mother of five in Sudan.

Violence forced her family to flee to Egypt. When they returned, they found communities carrying deep trauma and loss.

Asma began volunteering at a local clinic, helping children and families heal. When Medical Teams rehabilitated the clinic, she joined the team and expanded her care.

Today, Asma counsels people, leads community activities, and visits families in their homes.

Her work continues. And her story is still being written.

Chalota and her husband, Elisha, fled war in Congo with their three children and little more than the clothes they wore.

Later, when Chalota went into labor early, she delivered triplets by emergency C-section. The smallest weighed just 1.1 kilograms.

All three spent three weeks in the NICU, receiving the oxygen, warmth, and specialized care they needed to survive.

Today, the triplets are alive and growing.

But the future of that same care is uncertain. Funding for the NICU that cared for them is set to expire.

“This service saved us. If it ends, I don’t know how many mothers will survive.”

Three babies survived. What comes next is unwritten.

Tigist was displaced during the war in 2020. Separated from her children while trying to reach her husband’s family for food, she was abducted and assaulted.

Her injuries required a hysterectomy, and the grief remained long after her physical wounds began to heal.

Medical Teams’ protection team built a circle of support around Tigist — including case management, psychosocial counseling, transportation assistance, and referrals to specialists.

Slowly, through counseling and time at the Women and Girls Friendly Space, Tigist began finding her way forward.

Today, she’s training in sewing and working toward opening a small business so she can support herself and her children. She dreams of returning to teaching one day — and of a home where her children can grow up without fear.

“War destroys lives, families, and futures. Survivors need compassion, support, and opportunities to rebuild their lives. Healing is possible when people stand beside us.”

Still healing. Still teaching the rest of us something about hope.

*Name changed for privacy.