Five years ago, a young medical student fled war-torn Syria with nothing more than a suitcase, giving up his university degree to seek sanctuary abroad. After stints in Lebanon and Egypt, Tirej Brimo arrived in Britain, mastered English, graduated from a top London college and is now a junior doctor in the National Health Service.

 

That incredible journey, from asylum seeker to professional healer, drew the attention of London’s mayor, Sadiq Khan, who attended Brimo’s graduation ceremony in London, and the humble 27-year-old hopes his achievements can inspire other refugees.

 

"I know that no words can describe the atrocities we’ve been through," said Brimo. "I know that sometimes we're not even allowed to dream anymore. Simply smiling can be painful to the face, and agonising to the soul.”

 

“Nevertheless, please do not give up on yourself. Please do not give up on your dreams. You're not a number, and you will never be.”

 

Brimo grew up with his mother, Amina, brother Peshang, who is nine years his senior, and sister Berbang, six years his senior, in the small Syrian city of Afrin, and later Aleppo, Syria's commercial capital 60 kilometres to the south.

 

"Being a doctor is what I always wanted to do. Led by my mom’s love for education and knowledge, I grew up being inspired that there are no limits to dreams and ambitions,” said Brimo. “Also, having my siblings study medicine before me opened my eyes to the wonderful field.”

 

UNI AT 17

 

A precocious student, Brimo received an academic scholarship and began a six-year medical degree at Aleppo University in 2007 aged just 17. By mid-2012, Syria's uprising had turned into full-blown civil war and the situation in the city had deteriorated markedly. Brimo was just 10 months from graduating as a doctor, but had little choice but to flee Syria in July 2012.

 

"Aleppo had turned from demonstrations into armed conflict," said Brimo.  "You reach a point that you feel it's not safe anymore for you or the people you care about to stay. To leave everything at once, it's not a choice. It's a reality we had to accept, as Syrians, with broken hearts.”

 

Brimo describes the “dark night” he packed his whole life into a single bag that was too small to carry all that was precious to him.

 

“My room, my study table, and my warm bed. The places which held my best memories, the streets where I grew up. Even all the photos that I took in my life. There was no space for them,” said Brimo. "But what really broke my heart that night is that my bag wasn't big enough to carry any of the people I really cared about and loved. My friends, who I still miss, my family members that I used to turn to whenever I had nowhere to go."

 

Brimo travelled overland to Lebanon and stayed in Beirut for a month, trying to decide what to do next. His sister and mother had also fled, but the family separated, eventually reuniting in Britain, where Tirej's brother was already living.

 

"I was living day by day," said Brimo. "To be separated from your family and to be stripped of everything you ever had at once can be very cruel. You go back to your innate human mode where your fear and desire to survive take over.

 

“You don't care about the quality of your food, or how good your night's sleep was anymore. Anything to do with self-identity gets lost and dissolves away.”

 

After a month in Lebanon, Brimo travelled to Egypt to try to re-start his medical studies. He applied to 11 universities, living in Cairo, Tanta and Mansoura during what was a period of extreme turmoil in Egypt.

 

"It was very tiring - sometimes I wouldn't even unpack because I knew that I would leave soon,” said Brimo, whose journey took in four countries, 10 cities and 21 homes.

“I barely had any social life, any opportunity to make friends, and at many points in my journey I felt isolated. When you leave your country as a refugee, you lose everything precious in your life at once. And you arrive to a new country and a new community where you have to start all over again.”

 

MOVING ON

 

After a year of frustration, he travelled to Britain in July 2013, where he was granted asylum about a month later.

 

“In the UK, I felt welcomed. I felt loved, and most importantly, I felt believed in,” said Brimo. “There were many people along the way who looked me in the eyes and said, "I feel your pain." Sometimes, all you need is a tap on the shoulder or a smile. I can only thank the many people who were compassionate, listened to my story and supported me.”

 

“I worked really hard to improve my English. When friends would do one hour of work, I did two. And when my friends would go out, I'd stay in and study.”

 

At the same time, Brimo was tenacious in his determination to re-start his medical studies. In total, he applied to 42 universities in Britain and Egypt before St. George's, University of London, accepted him as a student, allowing him to begin in the third year of Britain's standard five-year doctor's degree.

 

"The world was smiling at me again and a flower of hope grew back into my life," said Brimo. "I still remember how euphoric I used to get every time I received an email from admissions. I used to call it ‘an email from Heaven’.”

 

St. George's made an exhaustive assessment of Aleppo University’s medical curriculum also testing Brimo’s knowledge of English and medicine, before he could resume his studies in August 2014.

 

He worked part-time as a phlebotomist in London’s Croydon Hospital to help support himself, and quickly integrated with his fellow students.

 

"I made some great friends along the way, but everything was challenging. Learning the language is not easy at all," said Brimo. "Every time I heard a new word, whether during a conversation or in a text, I would look it up and repeat it, and try to use it myself. Day after day after day, you learn more words and more sentences and eventually, you improve. The better your English is, the easier life is.”

 

Now fluent, English is Brimo’s third language after Kurdish and Arabic, and he graduated on July 20, 2017 – four years to the day since he applied for asylum in Britain.

 

"It was literally the most beautiful day of my life. Everything I worked hard for, all the nights that I had to stay up studying, all the days where I was upset that I'd lost my education, everything I'd been through finally paid off," said Brimo. “To move from a moment of non-trust where your fingerprints are taken, to a moment where you are not only trusted, but trusted with people’s lives and health, is an honour and a big responsibility. I am so proud.”

 

Brimo now works as junior doctor at County Hospital in Stafford, a town in northern England. After two years of foundation training, he can choose a specialism, which he hopes will be either trauma surgery or emergency medicine.

 

“I understand how traumatic it can be to lose everything at once during wars and how important it is to have someone compassionate to you,” he added. “One day I will definitely go back to the frontline and wherever pain is, I'll be there.”