"Dr. Yimam Endris: A Doctor in Name, But Not in Life"

Born in a quiet village — far from any hospital, far from the noise, but close to pain. There, a child was named Yimam. A dreamer. A fighter. A believer. His parents planted maize in dry soil, but in their son, they planted a dream — to become a doctor.

They called him “Hakeem” before he ever touched a stethoscope.

Dr. Yimam Endris studied by candlelight, walked miles to school, sometimes barefoot, always hungry — but never hopeless. He made it to medical school without privilege, without connections. Just determination, prayer, and sleepless nights.

He gave it everything.
He served patients in crowded emergency rooms with no gloves, no oxygen, no dignity.
He held hands as people died, not from disease — but from a broken system.
And still, he didn’t stop.

But now?
A doctor who can’t afford rent.
A healer who skips meals.
A professional with no protection, no recognition, and no peace of mind.

They call him "Doctor." But what good is a title when the system that gave it now turns its back?

So, Dr. Yimam Endris stands in protest.
Not out of anger — but out of love.
Love for his profession.
Love for justice.
Love for a future where healing doesn't come at the cost of a doctor’s soul.

His voice is clear:
"We will not suffer in silence."
"We took an oath to save lives — but who saves ours?"
"We strike, because we care too much to be silent."

He is more than a name.
He is the cry of thousands.
He is the truth behind the white coat.