The Restorer

Dr. Samuel (far left) checks the vision of a patient after cataract surgery 

Dr. Samuel Bora Imana projects such an air of tranquility that if I didn't know he was a Christian, I might think he was a Zen Buddhist.  Soft-spoken, patient, and wise, he's one of the most laid-back ophthalmologists I've ever met, which, if you know any ophthalmologists, is saying something.  Born to humble origins in Aira, Ethiopia, to farmer parents, he excelled in school and gained acceptance to Ethiopia's top medical school, Addis Ababa University.  Though he initially trained as a general practitioner, he later became an ophthalmologist after witnessing how transformative ophthalmic surgeries could be, and is now one of the 80 or so ophthalmologists in Ethiopia, a country with a population of nearly 90 million.  When he was offered a position to teach at Addis Ababa Medical School, he declined in favor of working with Tropical Health Alliance Foundation and the Daughters of Charity, which allowed him to fulfill his desire to provide services to the poor.

Dr. Samuel has been called "the best ophthalmologist in Ethiopia" by the former ophthalmology division chief at the Loma Linda VA, but he's also the kind of doctor who will apologize for reaching past you to empty a syringe mid-surgery even though it's actually you, not he, who is in the way.  He's the type of person who prefers the simplicity of the farming town of Aira to the urban sprawl of Addis Ababa, and the type of doctor who will pause for five minutes to explain a teaching point with illustrations even though he still has thirty patients left to see.  His intention was always to practice medicine in Ethiopia, not in higher-paying countries like many of his classmates intended, and his prayers always include the patients he will be treating.  The very rare occasions when he raises his voice are, in his own words, to use it as his only weapon during surgery to a patient who refuses to hold still, thereby risking the integrity of his or her eye as well as the outcome of the procedure.

Dr. Samuel with his last patient at the Gambella camp

Arriving at the Gambella hospital each morning during the eye camp gave me a small taste of what it may have been like to live during the time of Christ.  Hundreds of people who had been waiting since the early morning would turn and watch Dr. Samuel and our team as we entered, gazing expectantly, in hopes that we would be able to cure their optic ailments.  Some would cry out to be examined, or even reach out their hands to tug on our clothing.  For many, because of their limited access to any healthcare providers, this could be their one and only opportunity to regain sight, and many had traveled hours, days even, for the chance.  Being treated almost like a god could go to many people's heads, but astonishingly, Dr. Samuel maintained his humility despite the extreme reverence afforded him.

I've observed that the people who achieve greatness in one sense of the word are driven as if by some invisible force.  These people accomplish superhuman feats stemming from a sense of urgency not to build up themselves and their own reputation, but to fulfill some sort of need in the world.  For Dr. Samuel, that motivating force seems to be the millions of Ethiopians who lack access to eye care.  This same force also seemed to carry him through 276 cataract surgeries in one week, almost as many as the typical Ethiopian ophthalmologist completes in one year.  "If we have one more lens left, I feel we need to use it," he said. "If we return home with unused lenses, I will think to myself that there were more people who could have been able to see."