Afghanistan: ‘Nothing we can do but watch babies die’

Tayabullah, who is three months old, is calm and immobile. In order to see if she can feel him breathing, his mother Nigar takes the oxygen tube out of the way of his nose. She then places a finger just below his nostrils.

As she realizes her son is deteriorating, she starts to cry.

No ventilators are operational at this hospital in Afghanistan.

Mothers try to substitute for what qualified workers or medical equipment should do by holding oxygen tubes close to their infants’ noses in the absence of masks made to fit their small faces.

According to the UN children’s organization Unicef, 167 children die in Afghanistan every day from diseases that might and should be treated with the appropriate medication.

It is an incredible amount. But it’s only a guess.

And you’ll be left wondering if that estimate is too low once you enter the pediatric ward of the main hospital in the western province of Ghor.

There are numerous rooms full of sick youngsters, at least two on each bed, with pneumonia doing havoc on their tiny bodies. There are only two nurses caring for 60 kids.

We saw at least twenty babies in one room who appeared to be in critical condition. The youngsters should have been under constant observation in critical care, but this facility was unable to do so.

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.
Afghanistan’s public healthcare system has never been adequate, and the Taliban’s takeover of power in August 2021 resulted in the freezing of the foreign funds that had nearly totally supported it. We have traveled the nation visiting hospitals and clinics over the past 20 months and have seen them collapse.

With the Taliban’s recent prohibition on women working for NGOs, it is now more difficult for humanitarian organizations to function, endangering even more toddlers and infants.

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.
The medical staff at the Ghor hospital utilized what little they had to try to revive Tayabullah, having already been defeated by a paucity of supplies.

Dr. Ahmad Samadi was asked to assess his health because of the signs of weariness and stress on his face. Tayabullah’s chest was examined with a stethoscope, and he detected a weak heartbeat.

An oxygen pump was quickly brought in by nurse Edima Sultani. She blew air into it as she placed it over Tayabullah’s mouth. The boy’s little chest was then compressed by Dr. Samadi using his thumbs.

Grandfather Ghawsaddin of Tayabullah was present and appeared shocked. He informed us that his underweight grandchild had pneumonia.

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.
He was transported from our district, Charsadda, eight hours away on rocky roads, according to Ghawsaddin. The family cobbled enough money to pay for the ride even though they can only afford to eat dry bread for meals.

The attempts to restore his grandson continued for a half-hour. When Nigar turned to face her, Nurse Sultani informed her that Tayabullah had passed away.

Nigar’s sobbing pierced the profound silence that had descended upon the room. She gave Ghawsaddin a blanket-wrapped package containing her infant son. He was brought home by the family.

Tayabullah should be alive – every disease he had was curable.

“I’m also a mother and when I saw the baby die, I felt like I’ve lost my own child. When I saw his mother weeping, it broke my heart. It hurt my conscience,” said Nurse Sultani, who frequently does 24-hour shifts.

“We don’t have equipment and there is a lack of trained staff, especially female staff. When we are looking after so many in serious conditions, which child should we check on first? There’s nothing we can do but watch babies die.”

**In the hospital, there are no oxygen masks that are small enough to fit a baby’s face.**

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.
A short while later, we witnessed another young person in critical condition attempting to breathe in the room next to us while wearing an oxygen mask.

Gulbadan, a two-year-old, was born with patent ductus arteriosus, a heart abnormality. At this hospital, a diagnosis was made six months ago.

The illness is neither uncommon nor difficult to treat, according to doctors. The primary hospital in Ghor, however, is not set up to carry out the simple operation that would correct it. Additionally, it lacks the medications she requires.

Afwa Gul, Gulbadan’s grandmother, tried to stop the young girl from removing her mask by holding down her tiny arms.”We borrowed money to take her to Kabul, but we couldn’t afford surgery, so we had to bring her back,” she said.

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.
They approached an NGO to get financial help. Their details were registered but there’s been no response since then. Gulbadan’s father Nawroze stroked her forehead, trying to soothe his daughter who winced with every breath she took. Stress etched on his face, he pursed his lips and let out a sigh of resignation. He told us Gulbadan had recently begun to talk, forming her first words, calling out to him and other members of their family.

“I’m a labourer. I don’t have a stable income. If I had money, she would never have suffered this way. At this moment, I can’t even afford to buy one cup of tea,” he said.

I asked Dr Samadi how much oxygen Gulbadan needs.

“Two litres every minute,” he said. “When this cylinder gets empty, if we don’t find another one, she will die.”

However, for the million residents of Ghor, this basic facility continues to be the best public hospital they have access to.
When we went back later to check on Gulbadan, we were told that’s exactly what had happened. The oxygen cylinder had run out, and she died. The oxygen production unit at the hospital isn’t able to produce sufficient oxygen because it only has power at night, and there isn’t a steady supply of raw material.It’s a heartbreaking but all too frequent blow for Dr Samadi and his colleagues that two infants perished in a matter of hours from illnesses that may have been treated or prevented.

“I feel exhaustion and agony. Every day we lose one or two beloved children of Ghor. We have almost got accustomed to it now,” he said.

We observed an overwhelming number of distressed kids as we moved through the rooms. Sajad, who was one year old, had raspy breathing. He has both meningitis and pneumonia.

Irfan is in a different bed. Another oxygen tube was supplied to his mother Zia-rah to hold close to his nose when his breathing grew more labored.

She gently held both pipes as steadily as she could while wiping her cheeks with her upper arm. If the roads had not been obstructed by snow, she claimed she would have brought Irfan to the hospital at least four or five days earlier.

Many people just aren’t able to go to the hospital, and others decide not to stay once they do.

The nurse continued, “A child was brought here ten days ago in a very severe condition. “We gave him an injection, but we lacked the necessary drugs to heal him.

His father made the decision to take him home. He said to me, “If he has to die, let him die at home.

**Mothers sit alongside children with oxygen cylinders – but the hospital is unable to provide sufficient quantities**

What we witnessed in Ghor makes us wonder why Afghanistan’s public healthcare system is disintegrating so swiftly since the international community invested billions of dollars in it over a 20-year period, until 2021.

If a provincial hospital doesn’t have even one ventilator for its patients, where was that money spent?

Currently, a temporary solution is in place. Humanitarian organizations have stepped in to support the salaries of medical staff, the cost of drugs, and the cost of food that are basically about keeping hospitals like the one in Ghor operating because money cannot be provided directly to the Taliban government, which is not recognized internationally.

Now that funding, which was already dreadfully inefficient, might be in jeopardy. Aid organizations caution that because the Taliban’s restrictions on women, particularly its ban on Afghan women working for the UN and NGOs, violate international law, their financial support may be reduced.

The UN’s plea for Afghanistan has so far only received 5% of its funding.

**A burial ground in the hills near the hospital in Ghor, where at least half of the new graves belong to children**

We took a car up a hill close to the Ghor hospital to a cemetery. Here, there are no books or registrations, not even a keeper. As a result, it is impossible to determine who is buried there, although it is simple to tell a large grave from a little one.

According to what we saw, children are interred in a disproportionately high number of the new graves—at least half. The majority of individuals they are burying these days, according to a man who lives in a nearby house, are children.

Even while it may not be possible to tally the number of children who are dying, the crisis’ scope is evident everywhere.

Additional reporting by Imogen Anderson and Sanjay Ganguly