The fire spread so quickly, we could not wait for the brigade. Driven by sheer desperation, I rushed into the NICU to begin rescuing the children, braving the intense heat and choking smoke. Mothers clung to their newborns, shielding them even as flames roared. One mother, cradling her lifeless baby, refused to let go. When the truth dawned on her, her agony felt palpable.
JHANSI, India — On a quiet evening at the Maharani Laxmi Bai Medical College, visiting my grandson in the ICU for a respiratory issue, I had no idea a devastating fire would threaten everyone’s life.
Parents murmured anxiously, infants wailed, and the acrid smell of burning plastic permeated the air. Panic set in as smoke filled the hallways—the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) had caught fire. Through the thickening smoke, the flames threatened to engulf everything, and all I could think about was saving them before it was too late.
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The scene unfolded like an apocalypse. As we approached the NICU, a nurse emerged screaming, her clothes and a chair she carried engulfed in flames. The fire spread so quickly, we could not wait for the brigade. Driven by sheer desperation, I rushed into the NICU to begin rescuing the children, braving the intense heat and choking smoke. Mothers clung to their newborns, shielding them even as flames roared. One mother, cradling her lifeless baby, refused to let go. When the truth dawned on her, her agony felt palpable.
As the hospital staff abandoned their posts, fleeing for their lives, the children stayed behind. In a frantic effort, we broke the steel mesh covering the windows. With people gathered outside to catch them, we passed the newborns out one by one, tossing them through the window to safety. Like fragile, lifeless objects, 20 children escaped the inferno. Amid the suffocating chaos, we found six more, barely clinging to life and saved them with the same desperate method.
When the fire brigade finally arrived, it was too late for some. The charred remains of those who did not make it were carried out of their cribs, a haunting reminder of the incompetence of those tasked with protecting these innocent lives.
Parents wailed inconsolably, clutching the lifeless bodies of their babies. One young father, who had recently celebrated the birth of his twin daughters, died a hero. He managed to save one of his daughters before a burning doorframe collapsed on him as he tried to rescue another child. In the days following the tragedy, people called me a hero. Strangers praised me for what I had done. However, I did not feel like one. For every child saved, others were lost, and their tiny lifeless faces now haunt my dreams.
I keep replaying those moments in my head. What if someone had missed catching a baby? What if a child had landed on the ground instead of safe hands? The endless possibilities of what could have gone wrong torment me. The hospital’s hollow apology and their promised inquiry did nothing to ease the pain of grieving families. For those of us who stayed behind the flames, no words or actions will ever undo the horrors we witnessed.
Outside the hospital, parents waited in anguish. Some, in denial, refused to admit their children, believing they were well enough to leave. One woman insisted, “My baby is fine. I will take him somewhere else.” Another, overcome with panic, moved frantically, searching for her missing grandson. Crying, she told anyone who would listen, “The doctors and nurses abandoned us. They ran away without saving our children. Since last night, I have been looking for him. I just need to find him and take him to a private hospital.”
What happened that night broke me. It changed me in ways I am still trying to comprehend. While I am grateful my grandson survived, I did all I could to save the children. This experience left me grappling with the fragility of life, questioning everything. Today, I share this story not for recognition but as a plea. Hospitals must be places of safety, yet Jhansi Children’s Hospital failed. It must be held accountable. I hope no one ever has to endure what we did that night.