Situationer: Unanswered questions linger hours after Pims fire tragedy
Hours after the tragedy struck, conflicting timelines, locked doors and whispers of coverups lingered at the healthcare facility.
PublishedAugust 26, 2026UpdatedAugust 26, 202609:48pm
At around 4:30 pm, almost 10 hours after the fire that killed 14 infants, the entrance to the gynaecology ward at the Pakistan Institute of Medical Science (Pims) remained crowded. Eyewitnesses and relatives of victims had been hushed away hours ago, and the families left when the bodies were handed over. But there was an army of reporters and a line of cameramen set up in a neat row, waiting to see if anyone would show up. Everyone felt there was more to the story.
The Mother Children Hospital (MCH) ward, situated at the western end of the healthcare facility, was sealed soon after the fire was reported. The main entrance at the north was also cordoned off with yellow tape, which has since been knocked down by the rush of people
To ensure the ward remained sealed, several policemen were posted at the gate, in addition to the hospital guards inside, apparently to ensure no daredevil reporter or cameraman was able to get inside. A bag of riot control gear, batons included, lay outside the entrance. For some strange reason, officials from the Punjab Highway Police prowled around the scene
A woman carrying a sick child was arguing with the policemen at the gate when I arrived. She held up the child and pleaded for several minutes until the guard inside finally relented and opened the gate just enough to let her in. As if on cue, a few reporters darted forward, but the door was swung shut again before they could get to it
Soon after, the reporters turned their attention towards a different source of commotion: a man started screaming and cameras gathered around. People in the crowd asked him if he had lost a child, but the man ignored the question. He simply exhorted the reporters that God would not forgive them if they didn’t go inside and report the truth of the matter. “They are martyrs,” he screamed before walking away.
Rumours, denials
The chatter was the same everywhere. Conflicting timelines, locked doors and whispers of coverups. Several people asked where exactly the nursery ward was located; most reporters and onlookers had never been inside the hospital. There was a general sense that no one truly knew what had happened. One person on the site confidently told me that the fire began due to a fault in the air conditioning system. Another said he knew for a fact there was a fault in the incubators.
The only sign that a rescue operation had taken place here were some broken windows; a few by people before the rescue teams arrived. They said the bulk of the rescue was done by the people themselves
The fire brigade team that carried out the initial rescue had rotated out of their shift by 2pm. The new team sat on the ground next to a parked fire truck, even though the fire had long been extinguished
A member of the replacement team showed me the two places the building had been broken into. Firefighters had reached the site to find both the northern and western gates locked, he told me. Several people on the scene told me that locking the maternity ward was usual business; there is a fear of newborns being kidnapped. So the firefighters had set up ladders, broken two big holes into the building and carried out the initial rescue.
Some said the fire brigade team only carried out adults stuck in the ward. The replacement firemen weren’t sure themselves. Journalist Qurrat-ul-AIn Shirazi showed me a video of a fireman bringing down a small wrapped body. “Everyone gives a different timeline, a different version,” she told me
Alina Shahid, a journalist, also told me that the rescue operation was wrapped up before 11am and the bodies handed over to the families. She also said eyewitnesses told her that the initial rescue operations were impeded. The bodies were moved to a mortuary, quickly identified and handed over soon after the operation ended
“They [families] were handed the bodies and hurried away from the scene,” a woman on the scene told me. “Everything seemed to be happening in a hurry.”
Farah Rabbani, a journalist who had arrived at the site just after 9am, told me that she truly realised things were serious when she received a video from the Edhi rescue service showing small coffins being prepared. She was perhaps one of the few reporters who actually managed to get inside the ward. “It’s completely destroyed,” she told me, “floor to ceiling, everything is burnt.”
The other entrance that had also been sealed is at the western end. There were no reporters gathered there so I decided to see for myself. A moment later, I realised why. That side of the building has an open corridor blocked only by a grill. And through that grill came what can only be described as the worst smell I have ever experienced: burnt plastic and charred flesh
Questions remain
Politicians came and went. Health Minister Mustafa Kamal had left minutes before I arrived. PPP’s Sherry Rehman had visited before him. Soon, leader of the opposition in the Senate, Allama Raja Nasir Abbas, appeared and took care to emphasise that not letting the media in was an attempt at a cover up. Minutes after he left, PPP’s Shahid Khattak was on the scene. The lines were repetitive; the questions remained.
Had the bodies been identified? This was another question that elicited several confident responses. Some said the tags placed on the infants’ limbs were intact. Others said identification was still in process. None of the people who could actually answer the questions were on the scene anymore
