Fourteen Newborns, One Fire, Too Many Questions
ISLAMABAD: Fourteen newborn babies were killed when a fire tore through the nursery of the Mother and Child Hospital at the Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (PIMS) in Islamabad on Wednesday morning, turning a place meant to protect the most vulnerable lives into a scene of grief and devastation.
Fifteen newborns were reportedly inside the ward when the fire broke out on the third floor. Only one survived. Fourteen babies suffered severe burns and later died.
Fire and rescue teams reached the hospital within minutes of receiving the emergency call at around 6:45am. Six fire engines and four ambulances took part in the operation, and the blaze was brought under control. But for the families waiting outside, the emergency response came too late to save their children.
The tragedy has already produced conflicting explanations about how the fire began. Health Minister Mustafa Kamal said an explosion in an air-conditioning unit caused the blaze, which intensified because of the oxygen supply in the ward. Minister for Parliamentary Affairs Tariq Fazl Chaudhry, however, said the exact cause had not yet been established and that investigators were examining the scene. He also pointed to gas lines, plastic equipment and the oxygen supply as factors that may have helped the fire spread.
The differences in these early accounts make a proper investigation essential. But Pakistan’s public institutions have often struggled to turn investigations into accountability.
That is the darker question now hanging over PIMS: will this tragedy lead to responsibility, or merely another committee and another file?
A fact-finding committee has been formed by the Islamabad administration to determine the cause of the fire, examine the safety arrangements at the hospital and assess the response of the rescue and firefighting teams. It has been asked to submit its report within 24 hours.
Such committees are necessary. But committees alone do not deliver justice.
For decades, families of victims in institutional disasters have watched inquiries begin with strong statements and end quietly. Officials may be suspended temporarily, junior employees may become convenient targets, and files may move from one office to another until public anger fades. In many cases, the people with greater authority and responsibility remain untouched.
This creates a culture in which negligence carries little fear of punishment. When the cost of failure is almost zero, the incentive to prevent failure also becomes dangerously weak.
The problem is not simply individual negligence. It can also involve poor supervision, ignored safety warnings, weak enforcement and a chain of administrative decisions. Where political influence, bureaucratic protection or institutional pressure enters the process, accountability can become selective: the vulnerable are punished while the powerful remain beyond reach.
The deaths at PIMS therefore demand more than condolences from political leaders. They demand answers that cannot be buried in official files.
Who was responsible for fire safety? Were oxygen systems properly installed and maintained? Were alarms, extinguishers and evacuation arrangements functional? Had previous warnings or complaints been ignored? Who inspected the ward, and who certified it as safe?
Most importantly, if negligence is established, will responsibility reach those who had the authority to prevent it?
Fourteen newborns cannot speak for themselves. Their families can only ask why a hospital failed to protect them.
The true test of this tragedy will not be the formation of another inquiry committee. It will be whether the inquiry produces consequences and whether those consequences reach beyond the easiest person to blame.
Otherwise, after the headlines disappear and the files enter the record room, the next tragedy may only be waiting for its turn.
