Growing up in Pakistan, I had food, shelter, and comfort. I also saw children in torn clothes and people asking for help on the street. I never understood the idea that we should withhold help because someone might become dependent on it.
What I felt was gratitude for what I had, and a responsibility to give something back.
What Mamo taught me.
Moodi Mamo was my grandmother’s brother. Mamo means uncle in Urdu. He was a sweet, strong man I looked up to deeply. Over time, severe arthritis and then a stroke impaired him. It was hard to see someone I admired have so much of his life limited by his health. He later passed away.
“We all have issues in life, but we should be healthy enough to go face them.”
That belief became part of my purpose. I want people to have access to the resources, especially the health and support, that help them face the difficulties life brings.
The kind of care we want to grow.
I also want students entering healthcare to experience what compassion really means. Service should stay with us long after an event or an application. It comes from interacting with people personally, listening to them, and treating them with the dignity they deserve.
BridgeCare brings these two things together: supporting an underserved community and helping future healthcare professionals build a lasting practice of compassion.
Adapted from Yahya’s account of BridgeCare’s founding.