It was a dimly lit corridor. Dirtied with empty food boxes and fallen hopes. Pigeons fluttering on the window sills, pecking on every decaying nibble they could find. The paint on the walls was rather the blood of the hospital’s year-end trail of patients. The flakes from the wall were falling off of them with no one to patch them up. Like the wounds on the arms and legs of patients waiting outside the medical wards.
It was a grave, odd world. A government hospital. A couple sitting on a sheet of cloth, with their child shivering and crying in the lap of his mother. Benches crawling with insects and the patients who could barely hold themselves. Whether someone sneezed, coughed or lost bladder control, he could only sit and wait.
Wait with the chimes of the wall-clock, the tick of the hour, for somebody to see them.
When it comes to the healthcare sector of Pakistan, we often neglect how one action can impact the continue reading: marham.pk/healthblog
It was a dimly lit corridor. Dirtied with empty food boxes and fallen hopes. Pigeons fluttering on the window sills, pecking on every decaying nibble they could find. The paint on the walls was rather the blood of the hospital’s year-end trail of patients. The flakes from the wall were falling off of them with no one to patch them up. Like the wounds on the arms and legs of patients waiting outside the medical wards.
It was a grave, odd world. A government hospital. A couple sitting on a sheet of cloth, with their child shivering and crying in the lap of his mother. Benches crawling with insects and the patients who could barely hold themselves. Whether someone sneezed, coughed or lost bladder control, he could only sit and wait.
Wait with the chimes of the wall-clock, the tick of the hour, for somebody to see them.
When it comes to the healthcare sector of Pakistan, we often neglect how one action can impact the continue reading: marham.pk/healthblog