Abdullah is Beautiful Our World

who've been caught up in the conflicts across the Middle East.

They come from across the Middle East for the advanced

reconstructive surgery being done here. Victims of violence who found

nowhere else to get the treatment they need. Some have smuggled

themselves into the country to get here. It is the last resort for

them. Many will spend years in and out of the operating theatres. This

is funded by the charity Medecins Sans Frontieres. All she wants is

to be able to walk again. We have come to spend a week meeting

doctors and patients at this extraordinary hospital and it is a

TRANSLATION: I was sitting in the garden and a car bomb went off and

Abdullah is recovering from surgery, the latest of more than 20

operations. The 12-year-old lost his left leg and the left side of

his face, w his face, wb went off at a funeral in Baghdad in 2006, killing

several of his uncles. He has been coming here for treatment since the

numberg number of patients. He is very

quiet. He is polite. His surgery is very painful. I think that other

people have complained more, he is very quiet. He is very polite.

came to Jordan to meet the faces behind the statistics. Tucked away

in a suburb, the forgotten victims of violence in the Middle East.

Survivors of unimaginable horrors. Here, doctors are reconstructing

their broken bodies. They are helping them rebuild their lives.

All of the patients had something in common. They had been terrorised.

This is by explosions, bullets, catastrophes. I admire my patients.

They are great and they are strong. It makes you feel good. This doctor

is a Syrian surgeon, this morning, he is preparing to work on a young

Iraqi girl injured by a bomb. feel that I'm not giving enough. I

should give more. They need more. They are suffering, they did not do

anything bad to suffer. They're here asking us to help them. These

people did not receive the care that they needed in their country.

They did not receive the psychological support after their

wounds and injuries. They are here because we're here. They could not

because there was no-one else. They Waiting anxiously for her operation

is this girl. An explosion outside her house last September killed her

has She has not been able to walk, go to

school, or go to the toilet alone. TRANSLATION: The doctors in Iraq

told me that if this operation does not work out, I would have to have

scared. Since I have arrived in Jordan, I have been nervous. I hope

that God will help me have a fracture.

fracture. You see how the skin is. This is a big surgery. It's very

painful. This is the first stage. She will need three or four. We

hope that she will walk after this. There are complications. By the

already have extremely complicated medical problems. They face ruling

in surgeries. This is unique care. There is a There is a ing list. Set

up in 2006, this was meant to be a temporary programme to treat

the escalating violence in Libya, Syria, and across the Middle East,

the hospital expanded and increased its capacity by 45%. Over the past

year, the Medecins Sans Frontieres project has taken in patients from

Libya, Yemen, Syria, Iraq and other countries. It is bursting at its

seams and will have to expand again such is the demand. Amongst the

Syrians desperate to keep in touch with news from home, there is a

special camaraderie. Almost all are afraid to be identified because of

concern for relatives left behind. Not this man. He managed to smuggle

himself and his family out. A wood cutter from Deraa, he says that he

was attacked when he was watching peaceful demonstrations on the

street. He began to mobilise young protesters and witnessed and filmed

as demonstrators were gunned down. Soon, he was rounded up,

TRANSLATION: I was handcuffed and blindfolded. The interrogator told

me he would me he wouldrian television in. I was told to say that I

smuggled in weapons from abroad and cannot

cannot do t cannot do tsaid, "I know how to make you do that". He then

poured a bottle of boiling water over my leg. I had burning coals on

my feet. That was not the end of it. They did worse than that. I'm

embarrassed to tell you. They got a piece of rubber and tied it again

and again around my penis, very tight! They made me drink a lot of

water and I could not urinate for six hours. It damaged me.

He knows he is lucky, only the walking wounded of Syria are make

it to here. This doctor operated three times on a 27-year-old. In

the end, reluctantly, he had to amputate th amputate thbus driver's

leg. He says that he was shot by a sniper while helping wounded

with less with pain for seven months before

he could be smuggled here for this treatment. The doctor is preparing

cannot sleep for two weeks because of the trauma. But any surgeon this

is like a failure. Sometimes is just about saving the lives. They

are rare moments of downtime for the doctors. They are under intense

pressure and are learning all the surgery they perform here takes a

personal toll. However extraordinary the work they do,

they cannot perform miracles. The responsibility weighs heavily on

them. One surgeon told me that he sometimes takes sleeping tablets at

night to stop him worrying about the patients. It is emotionally

difficult for all of the staff here. We cried because the patients are

stronger than us. I'm going to cry you see what they have been

suffering for years, you can suffer from a simple wound. You can see

how great they are. That is why you need to cry. They are so strong. We

are weak but they are strong. We are weak, they are strong. That's

for sure. The Syrian bus driver is coming to

terms with the new restrictions to his life. He has lost his leg, but

is full of admiration for the doctors at this extraordinary

TRANSLATION: I had six operations in Syria without anaesthetic. It

here earlier, my leg could have been saved. Now, everything will be

different for me. When I go back to Syria, I will have to get a new job.

home away from home for the patients. Some will have to return

year after year. Amid the pain, hope and expectation. But most of

Abdullah Abdullah Dawoud has been coming

here for six years. Drawing is an escape. He likes landscapes.

Peaceful scenes. His doctors say when he first came he was so

traumatised he didn't speak for an entire year. He is still quiet but

we have been told the operations are making a difference.

than before. His Uncle, Qais Dawoud, is with him. He's taking turns with

Abdullah's father to look after him. TRANSLATION: There are sweet

moments and moments of sadness here. When he comes out of an operation

and it has succeeded, it is great. When he goes into his surgery, it

is difficult. I stand outside just waiting for however many hours it

takes, just waiting until the operation is over. One out of ten

of the project's patients are children. In room 502, they've just

opened a makeshift school. The teacher told us that children are

so keen that they pile into class the moment she arrives at the hotel.

Most of them now are Iraqis but they are readying themselves for an

influx from Syria in the time ahead. What strikes you most about them is

the absence of self-pity. TRANSLATION: I have been here for a

year. This bit of my face used to be like the other side. I have had

two operations so far. Is it difficult being away from home?

It's good? In what way? You like the weather? And the calm and the

fact that there are no explosions? Husain is waiting for a third skin

graft. He showed me how he was burnt in a bomb. He says it hurts

but only at night. The patients living behind these doors have very

physical injuries that are visible but it is the mental pain of men

who have been rejected from work because of disfigurement. The

psychological wounds are extremely hard to treat. Imad's deepest

wounds cannot be seen. On a day out with his family, his car was hit by

a rocket, killing his wife and two- year-old son in front of him.

Tomorrow, he will have complex surgery to transplant a bone from

his leg to his arm. Staff are anxious about him. He has attempted

suicide three times. TRANSLATION: Since it happened, I have known no

peace. I am peace. I amant pain. I had four operations in Yemen and each

one made things worse. Here, I love the doctors, they are like family.

They give us anything we need. is Wednesday afternoon and they

have opened up the hotel ballroom. Every few weeks, they put on a

special party to try to lift morale. As well as being a refuge from

dangers back home, this is a uniquely supportive environment

where staff say patients gain confidence and emerged from the

shells into which their injuries have forced them. But this is a

time for Muntaha to keep a close eye. She is responsible for the

psychological welfare of many of the patients. When you see your

patients, do you worry more about the physical or mental injury?

mental injury. I think the physical will be treated. But the mental is

difficult. difficult. ould be strong to cope with it. It is

not fair what has happened to them. They did not do anything. It is not

their fault. The youngest patient here is a spirited three-year-old,

Abd Al Malik, who is here with his father. He was hit by bullets twice

in the belly and once in the leg. He lost a kidney. Doctors grew

extra skin to rebuild his could

could not get in Yemen. Abu Hussam is one of the oldest patients. He

shoulder during a demonstration. He could not go to hospital because it

was not safe. TRANSLATION: I rescued a man who was shot in the

leg and he came back from the hospital dead. He had a bullet in

his head. One doctor in our village tried to help and he was shot.

Abdullah Dawoud has been here for longer than any other patients, in

and out of surgery for half his life. Many more operations lie

ahead. But the work that has been done so far means he can now face

himself in the mirror. He still has no upper teeth but in one operation

a muscle was moved from his back to rebuild his mouth. Complex surgery,

rarely performed anywhere else in the world. TRANSLATION: There has

been such a difference in him. And for us, he is beautiful. Beautiful.

Anyway, it is the beauty of the spirit that counts. The way he

looks is not a problem. It is the last day of a busy week at a

hospital that is giving hope to many maimed by violence in the

Middle East. The doctor has patients to check up on. Three days

after the surgery, this patient is recovering slowly. Wasan's mother

is concerned she has lost weight. That is her on the left, taken

before the explosion. She is a young woman, now reduced to child-

like dependency. But the first operation has gone to plan.

The bus driver is busy rebuilding his strength. As soon as he gets

his new leg and can walk on it, he says he is going straight back to

Syria. Dr Majd is gathering his strength for a new influx of

patients. The hardest part is to see the patient when he arrived to

me. Especially children. When I see a child with a fracture of the

limbs, a problem with the limbs, I say "You will walk from here.