Cycling the World, Embracing Humanity
Some journeys are measured in kilometers, others in lives transformed. This one combines both. Cycling across the vast expanse of Madagascar, a Pakistani man found himself at the very end of a dusty road: he inspired those who follow him online and breathed new life into a desperately poor hospital, transforming a place of suffering into a symbol of hope for an entire community. Kamran Ali, an ordinary man who embodies the true meaning of travel.
The dusty village of Ankilivalo isn’t listed in guidebooks, and it’s hard to find on a map of vast Madagascar. It’s very remote and difficult to reach. The dirt road is winding, and during the rainy season, it becomes simply impassable—for an indefinite period of time.
The region’s deep isolation affords it a single benefit: a small, modest hospital that serves people from all over the region. Often, they arrive here after several days of travel—on foot. In the most serious cases, they come by ox-drawn cart. It is the perfect example of rural life in one of the world’s poorest countries, where 80% of the population lives on less than two euros a day.
Years ago, Kamran turned his back on a conventional lifestyle. He chose to explore the world by bicycle and draw strength from the thousands of smiles his empathy has brought to the faces of people in the dozens of countries he has traveled through.
His ultimate dream: to cross Africa, traveling through some of its 54 countries. He has lived through so much to recount from the wanderings that took him to the far south, to the legendary Cape Town. When he has to think about what comes next, he accepts the invitation from several compatriots to visit them in Madagascar. The giant red island has long been on his wish list. He plans to stay for only two weeks. He ends up staying for many more. After all, back in his Pakistan, there’s no one waiting for him…
To call this makeshift structure with four flimsy walls a hospital is a bit of a stretch. Not to mention its dilapidated roof, with its rusty zinc sheets, or the meager furnishings inside the decrepit building.
The heat is often so stifling that it’s harder to bear inside the hospital than outside. Temperatures regularly exceed 40°C, there’s no cooling breeze, and the humidity is notoriously high. It’s a living hell with just six beds, regularly housing more than 50 patients, all without mattresses. The delivery bed has only springs and a metal frame—nothing but rusty iron. There is no electricity or fan. It is not surprising that many pregnant women give birth on the floor, on a mat under a leafy tree, where conditions are better. Patients sleep on the floor or out in the open… if they are lucky, they may be moved to a school. Equally lacking in even the most basic dignity, especially after being hit by a cyclone.
Rahaingomalala is a doctor. In fact, she’s a Humanitarian—with an “H” as big as the needs of this nation. She spent eight long years in college for the privilege of receiving nearly 200 euros a month. With housing included, of course. A luxurious six-square-meter cubicle, with no light, no fan, and no furniture. There is no bed, no nightstand, or anything to offer her any comfort. She sleeps on a mat that barely covers the floor.
She is the only doctor in the region. She is on call 24 hours a day. No days off, let alone vacations—a luxury that simply doesn’t exist in these parts. In practice, her life is entirely devoted to a cause far greater than herself.
In Norway, there is one doctor for every 200 people. In Madagascar, there is one for every 5,000. In this case, Rahaingomalala is officially responsible for 27,000 people, many of whom live (far) below the poverty line.
Kamran left the capital, Antananarivo, and has been cycling for 11 dusty days—about 750 kilometers—until his body demands a rest. Rahaingomalala is in Morondava, taking care of administrative matters related to his work.
Chance brings them together at a restaurant. They realize that talking to strangers can turn our lives upside down. Kamran is challenged to visit the hospital. He hears the story and can’t help but be moved.
“He tells me that people don’t even have enough money to buy some acetaminophen. That they have to borrow money from friends and neighbors just to get a few pills,” he explains.
From her wallet, which isn’t exactly overflowing, she takes out 50 euros to buy some medicine. Healthcare is free, but treatment isn’t. And, in fact, we’re in a world where money isn’t valued: the locals farm the land and barter goods and products.
When he arrives in Ankilivalo, in Mahabo Province, Kamran is confronted with a reality even harsher than the already difficult one he had imagined. One of the first things he sees is adults and children eating boiled rice.
One of the malnourished mothers is unable to produce milk. Her newborn baby won’t stop crying and is losing weight day after day. Without a breast pump, the solution is to adapt a syringe to try to extract a few measly drops of milk from her dry breast to feed the baby. It isn’t working. “Without formula, he would have died. If I hadn’t made that quick decision, he would have died too. The family didn’t have money to buy milk. The truth is that the next day the baby was already smiling and kicking.”
Joy over a small victory, quickly overshadowed by a gnawing sense of helplessness. It is on Instagram, where he has about 200,000 followers, that this wandering Pakistani man vents his feelings, sharing a story about the experience.
“I didn’t ask anyone for anything at all. I didn’t start any campaign. People simply began contacting me and saying they’d like to contribute, to help. Out of nowhere, they started sending me money,” he says.
Before long, 400 euros had been raised, which was immediately used to buy more medicine. Seeing the initiative on social media motivated more and more followers to contribute. Five, ten, 20, 100, or 200 euros.
“The flood of donations just kept coming, and that’s when I started thinking. ‘Okay, why not buy some mattresses to improve the patients’ comfort and dignity?’” Within days, mattresses, pillows, and sheets started arriving.
As the account balance grows, so do the areas of assistance provided to the community, particularly in the form of food. In addition to lacking food themselves, patients are invariably accompanied by family members or friends who are equally unable to afford meals. This is how two huge bags of rice, beans, cooking oil, eggs, salt… everything that helps alleviate their circumstances—arrive. For pregnant women or those who have recently given birth—who are usually malnourished—powdered milk is added to the supplies.
The project continues to expand, and the day finally arrives when the decision is made to install solar panels, lighting for every room, and fans—a luxury never before available. The lighting is extended to the outdoor area, to benefit both the patients and their families staying here. The first ultrasound machine in any public hospital in the entire district is also acquired. The oxygen concentrator, the extractor, the nebulizer—all sorts of things.
“95 percent of the hospital’s equipment is new,” he says happily. State-of-the-art belts and beds with mattresses were obtained. And cabinets. And tables. A delivery bed. Cribs. Benches for patients and family members to sit on. “I saw many people living subhuman lives, as if they were insects. I witnessed many heartbreaking situations, such as pregnant women in severe pain and with nothing to eat,” he reports.
The journey is long, his skin is even more sunburned, and gray hairs are taking over his beard—a physical decline that stands in stark contrast to the spirit driving him: “With many donations, ranging from a few euros to hundreds, we’ve managed to transform this hospital to the point where people say it’s the best of its kind in all of Madagascar.”
For those who cannot afford medication, there is already a solution to help. A staff member has also been hired to handle daily cleaning, the roof has been replaced, and the interior and exterior walls have been painted. When necessary, there is a fund to support those who need more specialized treatment in the capital.
With the revamped healthcare project being optimized and funds continuing to come in—already exceeding 30,000 euros—the idea has emerged to purchase a van and convert it into a mobile hospital, similar to what was seen in Lesotho. A driver, nursing staff, medical personnel, and some equipment. Vaccines and medication.
The generosity of this Muslim man in a predominantly Catholic region has reached new heights as he now supports the school by paying the salaries of teachers who often go without pay. “There are always students who can’t afford the 60-cent tuition fee—either because their families are poor, or because the harvests didn’t go well or are late…”
In one fell swoop, he pays a month’s salary to the school’s ten teachers—an investment of 200 euros…
“Many people will never become what they could have been. There are also many geniuses in Madagascar, but they probably never went to school. Or they may have died in childhood. Perhaps they were so malnourished that their growth was stunted… If children aren’t healthy, they can’t go to school, so their future is doomed. And adults can only take care of their families if they’re healthy—if they don’t die.”
Humanitarian work only makes sense when it promotes community development, so that the drops of aid do not evaporate in the vast desert of profound need.
“We’re also thinking about buying a small tractor, since all the work here is done by hand. That investment could be crucial and have a significant impact on the community’s economic well-being,” he says, already focused on a broader vision of contributing to an entire small society undergoing a transformation.
He reports that despite the extreme hardships, people continue to smile, do not complain, do their best, and show great solidarity—attitudes that have “transformed” his soul.
Kamran's challenges don't end here, as this is an ongoing effort, and he promises to remain dedicated to it forever.
“The most incredible thing is that, in fact, a single person can truly make a difference. When we say it’s hard to change the world and that we’re on our own, the truth is that everything depends on us—on our determination to change things. Being born in Madagascar is, in every way, unfair. I just want to help shed more light on the lives of those I meet,” he asserts.
I don’t understand people who travel without engaging with the local communities and places. People who don’t see others and focus only on themselves. I refuse to accept self-centeredness that takes precedence over humanistic values. And I reject empty lamentation without action.
“I also started traveling the world just for myself, to prove that I was capable of a lot of things. But as the adventures unfold, we grow, and the journey becomes a spiritual exercise. At a certain point in life, we’re compelled to reflect. And to feel empathy for the communities we visit, for the people we meet along the way. This compels us to act, to do something for others, to have the ability to make a small difference,” he says. He adds: “When, through social media, we have the chance to make our voices heard across the globe, we must make ourselves heard. Use our platforms to give, not just to receive.”
It reminds us that Africa is harsh, yet resilient. With millions living below the poverty line, they still manage to smile at us. And it contrasts that reality with that of the “unnecessary” luxuries of the West, which fail to bring us the lightheartedness and sense of purpose we need.
“I feel deeply saddened when people waste their energy on mere trivialities—whether it’s yet another disease or virus—when they could be building something good, creating magic out of little things, and transforming this world into a better place. And this applies to everyone. How sad it is to see people traveling just to do things because others have done them before… or out of the supposed presumption that they’re the first to do so. I could also stay in nice hotels, get paid for a luxury trip, and just post a photo with a cocktail in my hand and a nice caption… but I don’t want a life so futile, so devoid of meaning.”
A few days ago, Kamran contacted us, overjoyed, because he had found a site to build a new hospital, which will be supported by his online community, also in a rural area in need, about a hundred kilometers from Ankilivalo.
Kamran has poured “sweat, blood, and many tears” into Madagascar, making him, for this very reason, an example to be emulated in any culture or corner of the globe. And we can only think of how we can support him in his mission to contribute to a better world. And thank him a million times for the inspiration.
“We see the world, we enjoy the world, but we haven’t truly traveled if we don’t change our hearts along the way. We’ll just be sightseeing, never actually traveling.” Kamran, the ordinary man who shows us the true meaning of travel.
