It is with a heavy heart and teary eyes that I write about Dr. Abdulsattar Khan, my dear friend and colleague, whose life was untimely claimed by a heart attack on December 31, 2024.
I first met Abdulsattar in 2006 in Riyadh, where we both served the Saudi Ministry of Health in the Department of Postgraduate Education in Family Medicine. Those initial days in a new country were made easier by his guidance, stemming from his rich experience in the region, including his impactful role as the department coordinator at the Department of Family and Community Medicine, King Faisal University. His work ethic, deeply rooted in his knowledge of family medicine, public health, and medical education, made him an invaluable asset to our team.
Together, we embarked on the formidable task of developing the Saudi Diploma in Family Medicine—a program we named FAME, aimed at enriching medical graduates with essential family medicine qualifications. From creating the curriculum to engaging in the direct training of its first participants, our combined imprint was indelible, symbolizing our vision for its impact.
After our time in Saudi Arabia, we continued our collaboration at Atatürk University in Turkey, where for three years, Abdulsattar contributed significantly to the education of many Turkish medical students. His teachings there left a lasting impact on a generation of future doctors.
Beyond his professional life, Abdulsattar was a man of profound personal virtues. His humility and respect for all—be it colleagues or the support staff—were lessons in human dignity. His family, a core part of his life, experienced both his love and sacrifices firsthand. Despite his family members being spread across different nations—with his wife teaching in Canada, and his children pursuing their studies in Pakistan and Malaysia—Abdulsattar remained in Saudi Arabia, working tirelessly to support them.
His commitment shone brightest when despite the harsh Saudi heat, he continued his work. Tragically, this summer, he was to witness hisson’s wedding—a celebration he had long anticipated, but which he will now miss.
Abdulsattar was not only a beacon of knowledge but also a repository of wisdom. I recall once, when I publically pointed out an error he had made, he gently reminded me, "Zekeriya, Allah is Sattar, the one who covers faults. Shouldn’t you also cover rather than expose your brother’s mistakes?" This moment has since been etched in my mind, a testament to his graciousness.
As we mourn his passing, his teachings and his friendship continue to inspire those who knew him. In his memory, I pen this short verse:
In the gardens of memory, your whispers bloom,
In the halls of my heart, your laughter resonates.
Though you walk in the realm beyond our reach,
I find solace in the legacy of your deeds.
Farewell, my friend, until we meet where no shadows fall.
In closing, let this memoir serve not only as a tribute but also as a reminder: cherish your loved ones tirelessly, for our time together is precious and often shorter than we hope.
