Wheelchair and Community Equipment Strategy

Baroness Gerada Excerpts

Thursday 11th December 2025 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Gerada (CB) (Maiden Speech)]

My Lords, I rise for the first time with gratitude, humility and, if I am honest, a certain amount of surprise, until I remember how hard it is to see a GP these days—and having me in the House at least solves that problem. It is a great honour to stand here, particularly in such a significant debate that concerns dignity, fairness and independence. I thank the noble Baroness, Lady Kennedy of The Shaws, and the noble Lord, Lord Patel of Bradford, who so kindly introduced me. I also thank the staff of this House for their warm welcome, their patience with my many questions and their kindness.

Here is a little bit about me. I have Maltese heritage and was born in Nigeria, where my father worked as a doctor. My parents arrived in this country in the early 1960s as proud citizens of the Commonwealth. They taught me that success rests on courage, hard work and a commitment to the quiet dignity of public service. My father became a general practitioner in the NHS. His surgery was the front room of our home and patients have therefore been part of my life from a very early age. As a young girl, Dad would take me on home visits in communities still bearing the scars of the Second World War. Through him, I learned what general practice truly involves: not only medicine but community, continuity and compassion, and that the measure of a doctor lies not only in what they know but in how he or she cares.

I have now worked in the NHS for more than 50 years, beginning as a Saturday girl in our local pharmacy. In 1990, after completing my training in psychiatry, I became a GP in Kennington, and I have lived and worked in the community I serve ever since. Being well known in the area has its advantages. I recall my bicycle being stolen during a home visit; the next day, it was returned to the surgery with a note reading, “Sorry, doc. It won’t happen again”. Of course, it can never happen when I visit this House, as my little Brompton has two armed policemen guarding it every day—thank you, officers.

My patients have included the great, the good and, given that I work in the Division Bell zone, occasionally the difficult. My very first patient was a young woman who suffered a stillbirth. Decades later, I look after her children and now their children too. That continuity, seeing lives unfold across time, gives general practice its unique moral and social power. It allows us to see people as whole human beings, not as isolated organs or diagnoses. We are interpreters of experience, translators of suffering and witnesses to change. We observe how illness is linked to housing, poverty, work and the myriad pressures of everyday life. This is not the soft end of medicine; it is its foundation: the undramatic, continuous care that underpins the entire National Health Service. GPs carry out more than 300 million patient consultations every year—80% of all NHS contacts—for less than 10% of its budget. Most of our encounters end without referral, admission or prescription. When general practice thrives, the whole system does. It prevents illness, supports self-care, protects hospitals from becoming overwhelmed and saves money, and it is where the story of our NHS begins anew every day.

It is a privilege to be among the very few GPs admitted to this noble House, and now that I have completed my maiden speech, my first surgery is tomorrow—10 minutes only and only one problem allowed. Thank you very much.