The evaluation was a two-stage process consisting of an online survey, and a series of interviews. Many of you contributed to one or both parts of the process, taking time out of your busy schedules to give us feedback. We would like to use this opportunity to say a big ‘thank you’ to everyone that participated.

While many of you like the newsletter – the frequency of distribution, the breadth of subjects that are covered, the independence and objectivity of the editorial team which allows for a more critical approach to global health policies, and the humoristic and irreverent writing style were cited as strengths of the newsletter – we also got suggestions on areas that could be improved upon.

An issue that was repeatedly mentioned was that of format and ease of navigation. It seems the current layout, particularly in the email format, hampers efficient scanning and reading, increasing the tedium associated with reading the newsletter, and overwhelming readers.

Apart from this, you also suggested diversifying the coverage of topics and regions, in order to shift the focus away from subjects and regions that are always in the spotlight – the newsletter has historically been slightly biased towards coverage of sub-Saharan Africa. You felt this would help to kindle an interest in the newsletter among people from certain regions or those working on particular subject areas, and facilitate the exchange of knowledge between researchers and practitioners in different parts of the world.

These comments and suggestions are useful, and while it would not be feasible or practical to implement all of them given limited resources, we are nevertheless grateful for your input and are currently reviewing them to decide which ones are actionable.

As we do this, we will bear in mind the things that you said you liked about the newsletter which were the subject coverage and writing style. We will do our best to strike a balance between comprehensiveness and manageability by keeping the double structure  with highlights and then the other sections, while improving the format and ease of navigation. We will also strive to maintain the spirit of the newsletter which you almost unanimously agreed to be one of its defining features.

We thank you once again for your feedback and would like to assure you that we are listening and have heard you. The ‘new, improved’ IHP newsletter will be coming your way soon, look out for it!

In the autumn of 1978, the world was smack bang in the middle of a cold war that was (again) deteriorating rapidly, yet within the global health community, a different kind of war was being waged. In the battle against ill-health, the rallying cry was “Health for all by the year 2000”, Primary Health Care (PHC) was seen as crucial to achieving that goal, and “Alma Ata” was born.

In the period immediately after the declaration, there was a wave of optimism around this new idea which promised to revolutionise healthcare, unfortunately, it was quickly replaced by a more “pragmatic” view of the concept,  due to a number of reasons. Sounds a bit like the average marriage, doesn’t it? These days, it even seems that the global health community has moved on, as talk has turned to Universal Health Coverage (UHC). The new Alma Ata 2.0 declaration positions PHC very much as a “means towards achieving UHC”, for example.

So 40 years on, and the equivalent of a middle aged human, what can be done to keep the Alma Ata vision relevant?

We have borrowed from the advice given to people who are experiencing a midlife crisis, and tried to adapt it to fit this context.

1. Appreciate the life you have. A lot has been achieved since the conference in Kazakhstan, and while the goal of health for all is far from being achieved, it is important that we celebrate the progress that has been made all over the world, so far.
2. Move forward, not backwards. While it is tempting to look backwards and think of what could have been, especially in this anniversary year with all its associated poignancy, it is more important to continue to push forward. Even when there are new concepts like UHC, we must remain cognizant of the fact that primary health care will be central to the achievement of such ideas.
3. Nurture your friendships. Good networks are important when one needs to push forward a new idea, or breathe new life into a tired one. With all the progress in pursuing PHC, it is easy to forget that people are at the heart of the policy. We must take stock of PHC stakeholders, and strengthen partnerships to continue the Alma Ata momentum. Global actors must be willing to work with more local actors, governments with civil society, and every stakeholder should be given the opportunity to contribute whatever they can to achieving the goal. This must however be done with caution, because while exploring new collaborations with different stakeholders will provide fresh perspective for this four decade policy, one must remember that some “friends” are more trustworthy than others.
4. Avoid turning to alcohol and drugs. In a world where NCDs have become the major cause of death, it is important that we watch out for them, if we are to achieve the goal of health for all. Primary health care should continue to be the focal point for caring for people suffering from such conditions, however, it should also become more occupied with preventative and health promotion measures.
5. Journal your experiences. Documenting both successes and failures is crucial. Although no two contexts are exactly alike, sharing experiences and stories from the field could inspire others, and give them ideas about how to improve primary health care in their own particular settings.
6. Last but not least, stay away from buying that fancy sports car/Harley Davidson and do not succumb to a new crush: in spite of all the talk in global health of the need for ‘innovation’, the old spirit, vision and values of Alma Ata remain very relevant and needed. Unlike for your iPhone and other capitalist toys, when Alma Ata needs an update, you don’t actually have to renew the whole thing.

This piece was written tongue in cheek, but for people like us who were too young to remember, or were born post-1978 and are not personally affected by the loss of the Alma Ata dream, the most obvious thing to do is to focus on the future rather than the past. The truth is giving up is impossible, because after all we still want health for all, even we have had to move the benchmark!

PS: Perhaps ten years from now, when we go through our own midlife crisis, we might think differently : )

Dear Colleagues,

The negative impact of the gender gap on health is widely acknowledged, but now it is confirmed that gender inequality can be deadly, literally! As a woman, the thought that during a heart attack, my chances of survival might be influenced by the gender of my treating doctor is a scary one indeed. The good news, though, is that small changes can result in improvements, and gender mainstreaming is apparently not only good for women, it benefits everyone.

In other news, I was happy to see the spotlight being put on nurses and midwives this week, because even though globally, we account for almost 50% of the health workforce, we are often left out of global health discussions. As someone who is acutely aware of the important role of this cadre of professionals within health systems, it was gratifying to see them being recognized as a key resource for the achievement and implementation of Alma Ata.

And finally, the heatwave has abated, at least here in Belgium, hurrah! Yet we are not out of the woods, as scientists warned this week that current efforts to mitigate climate change are not enough – they say that unless we take much better care of our planet, we risk finding ourselves in a “Hothouse Earth” state. This of course is not new information, however, the timing of the publication to coincide with the end of what has been a few weeks of unbearably hot weather should hopefully yield some results. I know I am perhaps being overly optimistic, but I have to be, because honestly the idea of living on a hothouse earth does not sound appealing to me at all. With a bit of luck the two things will convince the powers that be (as well as individuals!) to finally take climate change seriously.

On a happier note, this is the third and final edition of what I like to term my “IHP summer takeover”, it really has been fun stepping into Kristof’s shoes and trying to keep up the standard at the IHP headquarters.

Enjoy your reading!

Clara Affun-Adegbulu

Dear Colleagues,

We seem to have had a deluge of good news this week, although of course there is some bad too, to keep the balance I guess.

Spain went against the populist anti-immigrant tide that is currently sweeping across the world, by restoring healthcare to undocumented migrants. Somalia prosecuted its first FGM case, offering protection to women and girls, and sending a clear message that perpetrators will no longer be able to act with impunity or without the fear of reprisals. And, we were informed that drinking (in moderation, of course), offers some protection against dementia. It is gratifying to know that with just one glass of wine a day, I could be protecting myself from cancer and dementia, and improving my mental health, effectively killing multiple NCD birds with one stone!

My fellow Brits do not need this though, as according to the Office for National Statistics, they are taking fewer sick days than even 25years ago. One might think it is because they are all in rude health, however others, cynics like me, for instance, might blame it on zero hour contracts or the fear of losing one’s job in such uncertain “Brexit-ed” economic times.

On to less welcome news. Ebola is back in the DRC, only days after the last outbreak was declared over. Let’s hope the response will be as effective as it was earlier this year, so that the disease can be stopped in its tracks before it does too much damage.

And finally, because I would like to end on a positive note, it is World Breastfeeding week. This year’s theme is “Breastfeeding: Foundation for Life”, in recognition of the importance of breastfeeding to babies’ futures. Breastfeeding can play an important role in helping to win the global NCD war that we are currently losing, so I am hoping the whole world, including reticent Americans, will rally round efforts to promote it. After all everyone likes babies!

Enjoy your reading.

Clara Affun-Adegbulu

Dear Colleagues,

You will notice that the newsletter is much lighter and shorter than usual. This is because we know that for many of you, the end of the academic year normally ushers in a quiet couple of months, and with that comes a switching of gears and embracing of a slower pace of life.

Kristof, our editor-in-chief, has decided that he wants some of that relaxing lifestyle too, and he is currently on holiday somewhere in the sun (although to be fair, these days, everywhere is “somewhere in the sun”). In order to keep IHP ticking and ensure that you lovely people get a weekly roundup of global health events and happenings, I have been promoted temporarily from co-editor to chief editor for a few weeks.

After working in the background for a few months, it is exciting to be a “front of house staff” and I feel like a kid that has been given a whole new responsibility by her designated adult. I am definitely planning to take on the role with gusto! However, since the heatwave in Europe has made doing even the most ordinary things a gargantuan task, I know it may be difficult sometimes. Still I hope I am able to “maintain my cool” in the face of such extreme conditions, do a great job and fill Kristof’s very big boots. I will certainly do my hardest to please, over the next couple of weeks.

On that note, welcome to the summer edition of the newsletter!

Enjoy your reading.

Clara Affun-Adegbulu

(you find the pdf of the full newsletter here: IHPn480)

Still, as a superficial fan whose real passion is health – marginally interested in football, I watch only when one of my many teams are playing, and I can be bothered –  I couldn’t help but view the whole thing through a population health (and more specifically a gender-health) lens. What impact I wondered, had the emotional rollercoaster we had been on collectively for 32 days, had on our health, and how does a truly global event like the world cup affect well-being in the widest sense of the word?

As every self-respecting health expert or even amateur knows, health is defined as “a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.” For many connoisseurs of football, of course, “a state of complete … wellbeing” can only occur in football heaven, but I guess that is a discussion for another day. Anyway, I decided to satisfy my curiosity by doing a quick scan of some European dailies, and my findings suggested that violence (or more precisely, its absence), is an important contributing factor to good health and well-being during and immediately after the world cup.

Both verbal abuse and physical violence were reported during the competition among fans from countries such as Argentina, France and England, and a particularly insidious form of violence – domestic abuse – apparently increased during the tournament, at least in certain parts of England. Winning or losing a game did not seem to make a difference to the incidence of abuse, so for some women, I imagine the phrase “it’s coming home” must have had a particularly ominous sound. This, in spite of the fact that a campaign against domestic violence had been put out by the National Centre for Domestic Violence (NCDV), which drawing on findings from a 2013 study, issued warnings over the increase in domestic violence that might occur during the World Cup, as a result of England’s participation in the tournament.

On the other side of the channel too, women were targets of football-related gender-based abuse. As fans of the winning team, France, celebrated their team’s victory on the famous Champs-Elysées in Paris, some women participating in the revelries were allegedly sexually assaulted in what has since been tagged #Metoofoot.

That men and women experience the world in gender-specific ways is widely acknowledged, so it is not surprising to see that this extends even to ostensibly innocuous spaces like sporting arenas. Yet it is striking that both genders seem to experience the highs and lows that are associated with the successes and failures of their teams in such different ways. For many men the ebbs and flows of the tournament triggers an emotional reaction, but unfortunately, for the women who are at the receiving end of sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV),  some of those male “emotions” can be important determinants of health and even in some cases, life.

While the campaign from the NCDV was graphic and very shocking indeed, it highlighted an area that is often overlooked when the issue of sport-linked violence is being discussed, and helped to fuel the conversation around domestic violence and the power imbalances that can cause it. Although I would much rather prefer a world that is free of SGBV, it was encouraging for me to see that attempts are being made to sensitise people to the issue, and to reduce the gender inequities and disparities which are its root causes. I wanted to draw attention to such laudable efforts and celebrate the little victories, because as they say, every little counts.

#AidToo is a sub-section of the #MeToo movement which definitely needs no introduction, as the ripples it has caused continue to be felt all around the world. The growing activism and campaign to end sexual abuse has been well received, and the issue has been much debated across both virtual and the more traditional media platforms. Yet one question remains, why is this type of abuse structurally embedded in society and why it is so hard to tackle? This is of course a much more difficult and less popular subject matter. The truth is that the ‘root causes’ of sexual abuse and exploitation go a lot deeper than the glossy Hollywood magazines which were so useful to amplifying the voices of  #MeToo campaigners, would have you believe. In fact, Tarana Burke, the founder of the #MeToo movement, in calling for action, said “Sexual violence knows no race, class, or gender, but the response to it does.”

As previously alluded to, the session in Geneva tried to address the issue of sexual abuse and exploitation specifically within the “aid industry”. Since the story about sex-parties in Haiti broke, there has been an avalanche of similar stories throughout the “aid world,” with NGOs, UN bodies and peacekeepers all being implicated. The resulting public outrage has ensured that the issue is now firmly on the agenda, and these days, almost all aid industry CEOs speak of regaining trust.

The session was held under Chatham House rules which proved to be useful because after an initially slow start, people started opening up. At first there was a tendency to meekly accept blame and defend one’s agency efforts at making improvements, however, this soon gave way to people sharing sometimes bitter testimonies about how things at the very top in important agencies are not changing and how more senior staff manage to dodge their responsibilities. In the hands of the excellent facilitator we soon agreed on tasks that should be taken on by the ‘Aid Industry: there is a need to revaluate their response to allegations of abuse by their staff; to operationalise a common culture of integrity throughout what is in fact a very heterogenous sector; and to create survivor-centred response mechanisms.

Thus far, people seemed fairly comfortable sharing their opinions and experiences, yet at some  point we seemed to have got stuck at debating only how to end the abuse – whereas preventing it was not in sight. It was when the last presenter firmly brought the root causes back to centre that things became more complex. The discussion gradually veered from strictly ‘gender’ towards racial, class, and ethnic aspects of the issue. In other words, intersectionality entered, and immediately illuminated the elephant in the room: power.

We were quickly chased out of our comfort zone, where we all shared disgust for the ‘bad behaviour of some males’, and had to face questions about the asymmetry of power. Talking about the abuse of power proved a lot more difficult than agreeing about the horror of abusing women. We proved Tarana Burke right: the response to sexual violence includes race, class and gender…and the distribution of power.

There was some discussion on ways of moving forward that require a complete paradigm shift in the power balance and the current way of working of the aid industry. For instance, shouldn’t the people who need help be put in charge, also of the funds available? And why shouldn’t they be held accountable – not by ‘our’ standards per se, but a set of standards which respects the people who we are talking about more?

It is not helpful when (opinion) leaders of the aid industry throw their arms in the air and declare helplessly that it is all very difficult, because anyway in those weird countries, men treat their women like commodities… #TheyToo! The behaviour of individual men does not give outsiders the right to make overall judgments that are – even worse – painful illustrations of the very power imbalance that leads to abuse.

To at least prevent this, it may be more helpful for the aid industry to strengthen the effort to understand how local values are also trampled by warfare and extremism, and how each culture has systems in place which protect against abuse and violence. Holding people accountable according to those culture-specific systems, makes perhaps more sense than only using the abstract ‘rights-based’ approach – that sometimes seems a cover for a lack of interest for the local truth. That may the beginning of some deep introspection into how the industry may unwittingly perpetuate the conditions that allow such abuse to take place, as well as a reflection about how to promote wider societal and structural transformations in behaviour, attitudes and institutional priorities to produce lasting change.

We did not find the final solution of course, but the debate was instructive and positive. And we noted that there may be truth in a quote once used, ironically, by a man who lost his position in the #MeToo slipstream. Kevin Spacey, playing president Frank Underwood in ‘House of Cards’: “A great man once said, everything is about sex. Except sex. Sex is about power.”

What this shows is the extent to which that sexual abuse and sexual exploitation are rife within the sector. People who have often suffered a great deal, and who usually have no choice but to put their fate in the hands of humanitarians who are ostensibly there to help them, have also had to face the indignity of being offered aid in exchange for their bodies, in some cases. This is an obvious violation of their human rights, and it is clear that reform is urgently needed within the industry, so that the evil of sexual abuse can be rooted out, and vulnerable people protected.

Yet, we must not let the moral outrage blind us to reality and lead to even more suffering for the people that need help all over the world. The truth is that while the problem is widespread, certain organisations have reacted better than others. This diversity is illustrated by bad examples such as the UN Peacekeepers which maintain a culture of silence about accusations; Oxfam which, at the time, dismissed the accused but then covered up the case perhaps for fears of public reprobation and loss of funding; and, on the more positive side of the spectrum, MSF which has received less criticism, because it appears to have been one of the more transparent ones.

Yes, the humanitarian and development sector is full of human beings who are far from perfect, and yes it is true that the people working in the industry at times do more harm than good, however, it is sometimes one of the only real avenues for getting aid to people in emergencies, and we must remain pragmatic.

The need for such pragmatism becomes even clearer, when one considers the fact that intergovernmental organisations such as the UN, which are supposed to play a global role in maintaining international peace and security, protecting human rights, delivering humanitarian aid, promoting sustainable development and upholding international law, also have mandates which require “that they respect the regime’s sovereignty.” However, it is a well-known fact that this proximity to national governments can have negative impacts on humanitarian response, particularly in conflict settings, where respecting the idea that the state has exclusivity of jurisdiction and working with such governments will, de facto, lead to the exclusion of populations in non-government-controlled areas from aid and assistance.

The 2013 polio outbreak in Syria illustrates this well. During the outbreak, the World Health Organisation (WHO), impeded by the government was unable to act, and it was left to actors working outside the UN system to identify and contain it. These organisations were able to disregard the Syrian government’s claims to exclusivity of jurisdiction and therefore cooperate with the insurgents, but the response was much slower in these areas than those where the WHO could operate unimpeded. The WHO is the leading actor in global health, yet its mandate to respect the de jure sovereignty of the Assad regime inhibited its ability to prevent and contain the polio outbreak that occurred in insurgent-controlled areas of Syria. This mandate also inhibited its ability to act in accordance with humanitarian principles of “humanity, impartiality and neutrality”.

This is just one example out of the many that exist, but it demonstrates the importance of non-governmental organisations which are not bound by any obligation to respect national sovereignty. Although it is becoming increasingly difficult, as these organisations themselves have become targets in both conflicts and smear campaigns, they are usually able to step in, act unfettered and provide assistance to people in need, when intergovernmental organisations are rendered impotent by their mandates.

In my opinion, the solution to the issue that has been exposed in the aid industry is multifaceted: the deep-seated roots of the problems of sexual abuse and exploitation must be examined; the contradiction between the UN’s mandate and its aspirations need to be re-evaluated; and the sector must go through the painful process of reform that is needed. In the meantime, however, it is my firm belief we cannot throw out the figurative humanitarian and development aid baby with the bath water, at least for now, because the truth is that as long there is inequality in the world, someone, somewhere will always need these organisations.

Lassa fever, for the uninitiated among us, is according to the WHO an acute viral haemorrhagic illness that is transmitted to humans via contact with food or household items contaminated with rodent urine or faeces. Endemic in Benin, Ghana, Guinea, Liberia, Mali, Sierra Leone, and Nigeria, the virus is spread between humans through direct contact with the blood, urine, faeces, or other bodily secretions of an infected person. Health workers caring for Lassa fever patients are at higher risk of infection, especially if they use improper barrier nursing and infection prevention and control practices.

Dr Idowu’s case is not unique; the Nigerian medical cadre has suffered a spate of losses from Lassa Fever in the past months, however, his death has once again thrown the spotlight on the poor use of Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) by health care professionals in Nigeria. Health workers cite a lack of supplies as a reason for this, while the government blames the workers themselves, for not practising proper infection control.

This article is however not about attributing blame or playing the game blame, and it is not about Lassa Fever or even about Nigeria. Rather, it is about the occupational hazards that (far too many) health workers in low-income and middle-income countries (LMICs) face in the carrying out of their duties.

When I think back to my study abroad elective in Bangladesh, and remember that one of my jobs as a second year nursing student included the cleaning up of theatres post-op (mopping up bodily fluids, etc), and the washing and autoclaving of used gloves, bandages and other (normally single-use) equipment, I cringe at the thought of how I exposed myself to so many risks. I also realise however, that as a British student who was only there for a brief period of time, I was luckier than many of my fellow medical and paramedical colleagues who were exposed to the same risks, day in and day out.

In the global health community, conversations about human resources for health are usually centred around “brain drain”, urban-rural distribution, the quality of training and education, and other such issues.

Yet many health workers are lost, because they must work on the frontlines without the right supplies or equipment, and in so doing, put their own lives at risk in their bid to help others. This is particularly galling, because in many LMICs, the occupational hazards faced by such people are not recognised; in Nigeria for instance, the hazard allowance for a doctor is just N5000, or about £10. It is understandable then that during infectious disease outbreaks, some people simply decide to stay away from work, as was recently the case at the Federal Teaching Hospital Abakaliki, where doctors and nurses fled the hospital over another outbreak of Lassa fever in the state. This of course puts already struggling systems under more pressure, and undermines efforts to contain infections and safeguard the health of the population.

Everyone agrees that promoting and maintaining global health security starts with infection containment within national borders, yet in a globalised world where people are constantly on the move, this is a very lofty goal indeed. To improve the chances of reaching this nigh-impossible goal, health care workers, particularly in LMICs, must be trained in good infection prevention and control practices, supplied with PPE and taught to use them. Hazard allowances should also be increased for workers who must risk their lives, at least during periods of infectious disease outbreaks.

In order to achieve global health security, the global health community should perhaps focus a bit less on the bigger, more “sexy” interventions, and more on less glamorous ones like the provision of gloves and other protective equipment to frontline workers in the remotest corners of the world. After all, a chain is as strong as the weakest link.

The attempts to discredit the other side by finding weaknesses and poking holes in their arguments, efforts to convince the audience of the strength of one’s arguments, and the theatrical delivery of lines that is done with the sole aim of wooing the crowd make debates such fun! In the end, I attended 2; the Emerging Voices (EV) session which was a debate on whether Health Policy and Systems Researchers were doing enough to facilitate the transformation of political commitments into better health systems, and the Journalism one which was a panel debate on whether journalists and scientists are failing Global Health.

Well I can tell you that each session was “British” in its own way. The journalism session was staid and a bit humdrum, with a lot of polite to-ing and fro-ing and consensus seeking. Andrew Jack, the moderator from the Financial Times, tried hard to stir things up by asking some “controversial” questions, but the poor man struggled to keep the momentum going. He had been dealt a bad hand in a panel which included a lady from the European Commission who stuck to the official line and kept things polite and….superficial, and a scientist from ITM who was a bit too calm and restrained for my personal tastes. Thankfully, the other panellists were two journalists who, perhaps because of their jobs, were more vocal with voicing their opinions. I was particularly impressed by Serusha Govender, a freelance journalist from South Africa and the current ITM Journalist-in-residence. She had no qualms about talking about her experience and how the working relationship between journalists and researchers could be improved to enhance global health. She was honest, funny and very engaging, and it was thought-provoking for me, a budding researcher, to hear about the role good communication plays in the transfer of information between scientists, journalists and policy-makers.

The EVs on the other hand were amazing! I don’t know if it’s because the participants were younger and had more activist profiles, or because as a colleague pointed out, many were from ex-British colonies with debating traditions, but the session was very stimulating. I am being, perhaps, a little unfair here, because the journalism session had a different format, but the truth is that I preferred the EV session by a long shot. At one point, I looked around and noticed members of the audience laughing, nodding in agreement and participating with questions and commentary. They were being educated and entertained at the same time – no mean feat!

Two very different experiences, but they convinced me of the importance of this type of sessions in conferences which still follow the traditional style of one presenter talking at a room full of half-bored people who are really just there for the networking opportunities. It is unfortunate that not more of these sessions are included in conference programmes, because both sessions (yes, even the more boring one!), showed me that spirited debates can spice up bland conferences and keep audiences “woke”. I really hope the format is replicated at the next ECTMIH and in other conferences – hint, hint, organisers of the next global HSR symposium in Liverpool…. Fingers crossed the conference Gods are listening!

The flight seemed to have lasted for eternity, and I slept fitfully throughout the journey – the consequence of my bad decision to spend the previous night sleepless at a concert. For nothing in the world would I miss a Nigerian artist playing in Brussels. However, how could I as a budding global health and development researcher miss the chance to attend such an important event? I decided to do both, and while I regret attending the concert where I hadn’t – by the time I left at 4am to catch my flight – seen the recalcitrant headlining act, I am pleased to say that the Summer School which ran from the July 10 – 14, 2017, exceeded my expectations.

The Summer School which took place in Syracuse, Italy was entitled ‘Managing the public health aspects of migration’ and had been billed as a forum intended to promote dialogue between policymakers, researchers and practitioners. It was supposed to be “a space for bridging research, policy and practice; sharing practical, real-world knowledge and experience; and fostering debate and critical thinking,” with the aim of providing  “the necessary guidance, training and support tools to enable public health workers, service providers and planners to understand and implement appropriate migrant-sensitive interventions, while enabling the sharing of knowledge and skills among participating countries.”

I applied for a place on the course because as a migrant myself, a nurse and a student of public health, I am acutely aware of health inequalities particularly concerning people on the move. I am passionate about improving health outcomes and access to healthcare for such vulnerable people, and I felt that the Summer School would equip me with the knowledge and skills needed to make me a better advocate and practitioner. It turned out I was right, but not for the reasons I expected.

The course content itself was very interesting, and I gained some practical skills from the workshop ‘Planning in advance to manage large influxes of refugees and migrants,’ where we were given a scenario and told to make a contingency plan to deal with it. I also enjoyed the plenary session on the epidemiology of refugee and migrant health, particularly the lecture on communicable diseases given by Professor Ibrahim Abubakar, the director of University College London’s Institute for Global Health. He told us with some irony, that in these days of cheap flights and mass tourism, pandemics are more likely to be started by infected non-migrant travelers jet-setting around the world, than by refugees who use longer more treacherous routes.

Other highlights include the lecture on culture and co-production in migrant health programmes by Roberta Blivins, Professor of History at the University of Warwick. She reminded us of the role of cultural awareness in health provision for migrants and the importance of incorporating migrants into the ‘public’ of public health.

The panel discussion on managing the public health aspects of refugees and migrants was also very interesting. Representatives from the ministries of health in Turkey, Greece and Serbia were invited to talk about their country’s experience, including their challenges, successes and findings. Although the discussion was indeed sobering, it was also encouraging to hear for instance that the Ministry of Health in Turkey, financed by the World Health Organization, now had an accreditation process for integrating Syrian medical professionals into the local health system.

Apart from the networking opportunities the summer school provided me with, the best part of the entire five days for me was the time spent discussing, debating and exchanging ideas with other young researchers. It was interesting to hear about the work other people were doing, and inspiring to see my passion reflected in them, as we shared stories and experiences.

At the end of the programme, we decided to keep the network going and have formalised it with a Facebook group The Migration and Health Network which is open to anyone interested in the health and healthcare of migrants.

Outside of ‘classes,’ I enjoyed the sunshine, the delicious Italian food and time with new friends, although I sometimes felt uncomfortable about some of the ‘lavish’ treatment we received.

In all, the summer school was a good first attempt, and I applaud the organisers for the initiative. I hope however that they will take all the feedback we provided into account when organising the next edition.

Professor Abubakar’s presentation can be found here.