A doctor's (post-operation) visit to Matta

Print this article

Saturday, August 08, 2009

It was eight pm – around a week ago – when we arrived at the gate of Tehsil Hospital Matta in district Swat – after a twelve hour journey from Peshawar and more than 37 full body searches by the army (in the 30 kilometres from Mingora to Matta). The minute we approached the hospital gate along with our cargo of medicines in the two trucks (a female doctor was also accompanying us), we saw a female patient with two young children that were pushed away by the armed soldiers on the pretext that the curfew had begun. We had to intervene and asked the soldiers to let the patient in because we could see that the poor lady was having trouble breathing because she was having an asthma attack. Common sense prevailed and the lady was allowed to enter and she was taken to the casualty department. We had to off load our medicines quickly to find her the right emergency treatment and was pleased that in 30 minutes of our stay she was able to breathe better.

The lady doctor accompanying us, who was from the area, was appointed in record time of hours by the Department of Health NWFP through the Mother and Neonatal Healthcare project. This happened after reports came in that there was no female doctor in the whole of Matta tehsil! The female doctor was accompanied by a sister and brother of hers and all of them had to be accommodated with the family of another doctor in the hospital's own residential compound. As we were driving up to the hospital, the female doctor would every now and then point to locations in village after village and tell us stories of whom and how many people slaughtered and so on – this happened as we drove past the villages of Charbagh. Gulli Bagh and Dakorak.

When we entered the hospital it was full of army personnel and vehicles and we saw many jawans cleaning their rifles in the office of in-charge of the leprosy centre. A total of four patients had been admitted to the hospital, two male and two female and no female staff was on duty. We met a young woman – one of the patients -- who was a trained lady health visitor and who was in the hospital after she underwent a caesarean section performed by a general surgeon. She told us that soon after her own surgery she was wheeled to the labour room to help in a delivery since there was a severe shortage of doctors. We met another patient who had a stroke a few days ago. She gripped my hand tight and asked me: "Where were you my son, for so long!" The hospital attendant told me that the patient had lost a son who was slaughtered, along with 14 others, by the Taliban and that since then she had lost her mind. I had to pull my arm gently after promising I would 'come back'!

The army was pleased to collect the medicines and food items meant for the patients and staff and were asking us to leave before it got dark. We could understand their anxiety as we saw on the way a soldier standing every few metres or so facing the fields, for any unforeseen Taliban attack. We were escorted by the army and were pleased that on our return we didn't have to go through all the searches and were expected to reach Mingora within the usual time of one hour rather than the six that took us on our way up to Matta. Our excitement, however, was short-lived when the army escort stopped at Khawazakhela bridge and we were asked to carry on by ourselves.

After that, and quite soon, we came across another checkpost – but this one was with a difference. This time there was no one to check on the ground, asking us to get out of the car and so on. Instead, a man sitting on the third storey of a building some 100 metres away shouted at us and asked us to identify ourselves and explain why we were there. We were supposed to be make functional all the health units in the whole of Swat district and here we were – couldn't travelling uninterrupted without being checked every half kilometre or so.

A senior official of the NWFP health department was with us and he seemed frustrated because in Peshawar he had been asked to carry on with his job of visiting all the districts health units and make them functional and when he was trying to do his job he could hardly walk even on the road without the military's permission every step of the way. It was slightly amusing – though of course tiring -- that many of the checkposts were quite close to each other but that we were checked at each and every one – and we kept wondering that couldn't the soldiers of the initial checkpost just convey to the next one who we were and that we were coming their way? Instead, at each checkpost we had to explain who we were and what we were doing there – every time!

We carried on doing this and finally reached the village of Gullibagh. There were road blocks on the road and we got out of the cars to clear them to pass through – and just then we heard someone shouting at us from far away to stop and then we heard them say "Go back, go back". We all responded that we were coming from Matta after delivering emergency medicines for civilians and the army personnel working in the hospital. Despite this and despite waiting at this location for what seemed an hour, we were not allowed to go any further and were told to 'go back'. But we wondered to ourselves, back where? We had no choice but to stay the night where we were – though the situation was risky because we could have come under hostile fire from either side.

There were a few houses where we had stopped and we began knocking on doors to see if there was any accommodation. Most of the people we asked sheepishly apologized that they had no space – and we suspected this had to do with the fact that they could see that the number plate of our vehicle was green (government). Finally we came across the home of a retired lab technician who knew most of us directly or indirectly and he took us into his hujra. We were offered a delicious meal, particularly given that it was a very late time of the night and were amazed by the items present for us to consume despite the recent curfews and conflict. The technician and his family had not left the area throughout the conflict period or the operation and were oddly proud to share with us the pieces of sharpnel, bullets and so on which had fallen into and around their home. The man himself shared many stories with us and one was especially interesting. He said: "One day we had to carry an injured person to the hospital. And we did this by carrying him on a charpai. Four of us were allowed to take him accompanied by an army dog which was in the front (possibly checking for explosives). The dog would go up till one checkpoint after which another sniffer army dog would take over! And this went on and on, from checkpost to checkpost, till we reached the hospital."

The writer is a leading doctor based in Peshawar who wants to remain anonymous. This was written exclusively for The News.

Courtesy: The News International