Simila's story - A special report from CEO Brian Doolan

Simila wants to be a doctor.

That's a big dream for a ten-year-old girl, who lives in a thatch hut, a ten-hour drive from Nairobi in northern Kenya.

Simila's mother Rose has never seen the face of the beautiful, laughing little girl who tenderly caresses her mum's hand as she tells me of her dream to become a doctor.

Simila loves school. Her face lights up when she talks about it.

"But many days I cannot go to school," she tells me.

"If mum is sick or if she has to go somewhere, I stay home to help her".

It's a common story. For almost all the more than 40 million blind people who live in the developing world, there are others, usually children and most often girls, who miss out on education or other life options to care for them. This tragedy is all the greater because 75% of those who are blind can be treated.

A gift of as little as $25 can restore the sight of a person blinded by a cataract.

I first saw Simila in the grounds of the Baragoi District Hospital, an impoverished outpost of the Kenyan Ministry of Health.

She was holding her mother's hand and leading her carefully over the rocky ground towards the clinic. When they entered the gates they joined a crowd of about 100 others.  They had all heard some doctors were coming who could make blind people see again.

When Fred Hollows was alive experts said the implantation of IOLs could never be done in the developing world, and besides, it was too expensive.

Fred took them on, and with colleagues and supporters he set up factories in Nepal and Eritrea to produce the IOLs, training surgeons in places like Vietnam, Nepal and Eritrea, who in turn trained others.

That's why sight can be restored in developing countries for as little as $25.

Many suffered from cataract, a clouding of the eye that can be treated with a relatively simple operation to insert a tiny plastic intraocular lens (IOL).

I sat on a rough wooden bench beside Dr James Maina, a Kenyan eye surgeon trained by The Foundation, as he examined Rose.

"We in Africa owe Fred Hollows so much," he told me.  "He taught us that restoring sight is possible."

James shone a weak torch light into her right eye. "See here Brian," he said to me. "This eye has very heavy scarring. This eye is too far gone". I was glad that little Simila's English was too basic to understand what he was saying. But she saw him shake his head.

James moved the torch to the left eye. "It is very bad," he said, "There is scarring and there is cataract. But here, at the top of the eye, perhaps there is enough clear area. Maybe I can do something."

We looked at the little girl holding tight to her mother's arm. "Perhaps if I remove the cataract and place an IOL in the eye, she will have some sight,." James said. He pondered a moment and then said, "I think we should try."

Rose had her operation, and when I left, she and Simila were waiting. Tomorrow the bandages would come off and we would know if James was able to "do something".

Back at the hospital the next morning I found Simila beside Rose, as always.

James peeled off the bandage and wiped Rose's eye clean.

How many fingers am I holding up?" James asked.  Simila's eyes were locked on her mother's face.

Rose concentrated. "One," she replied. And he was.

He moved back a few steps. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two," she replied. And he was.  She smiled.

Later that morning we took Rose and Simila back to their village.  Her son and older daughter were waiting. For the first time in many years Rose walked unassisted.

I couldn't help but ask. "Rose what can you see? Can you see your youngest daughter's face?"

She looked in my direction but was unable to focus. "I can see colours and I can see shapes.  I have not seen colour for many years.  I cannot see my daughter's face clearly, but I can see my daughter is there," she pointed. And Simila was standing where she pointed, smiling.

So Rose did not have a fairytale ending to her surgery. But James expects her sight to improve over the next few weeks. Many of the other 75 people who were operated on during our stay did regain their full sight.

Rose's life is better.  She does not have to be lead to the toilet. She can see that someone is approaching or moving away. She can see when her daughter "is there".

Last year, thanks to donations from our supporters, The Foundation screened over a million people and carried out 73,838 surgeries and sight saving procedures.

But the need is still so great. There are around 40 million blind people in the developing world. It doesn't have to be this way. Seventy five percent of this blindness is preventable or treatable. 

Over the next five years we aim to double the amount of our work. 

That means we want to be helping more than 2 million people a year.

It's no small task.  Simila and her mother are just one small but important example of what can be achieved.