Staff nurse Razia Noreen was preparing morning injections in a medicine cupboard just steps from the nursery ward at the Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (PIMS) in Islamabad when a sudden, unnaturally intense red light pierced the room’s glass panel. The stark, alarming glow, appearing at 6:38 a.m. on Wednesday, August 26, immediately signaled a grave danger. Before she could fully process the sight, her colleague, Sister Nasreen, was already fleeing the ward, her cries for help echoing through the hospital corridors.
Within seconds, at 56 seconds past 6:38 a.m., according to timestamps later verified by a government inquiry committee, Noreen rushed into the nursery. Her heroic efforts, however, were tragically limited by the inferno’s rapid spread. Just eight seconds after entering, she emerged carrying a single infant. Her attempt to re-enter the rapidly engulfing room was thwarted by the raging flames. By 6:40 a.m., the nursery was lost, consumed by a smoke so dense that surveillance cameras could no longer penetrate it.
Eight days later, Noreen, dressed in a simple pale pink shalwar kameez, recounted the harrowing events from a modest office at PIMS. The trauma of that morning remained palpable, the raw grief evident in her voice as she described the scene. "There was a proper blast," she told Al Jazeera, her words heavy with the memory of the disaster. "Everything turned to smoke." The nursery had housed fifteen newborns; tragically, fourteen perished in the blaze. The infant Noreen managed to rescue was the sole survivor.
Despite being honored by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif on Thursday with an award for her bravery, the weight of the tragedy continues to bear down on Noreen. Hours after meeting the prime minister, she provided a detailed account of the moments that unfolded inside the inferno, a testament to the enduring impact of the event.
A Race Against Flames: The Heroism of Razia Noreen
Noreen had been on duty since the previous evening, working the late shift that was nearing its end. The dawn medication round, a routine task with Sister Nasreen, was almost complete when the alarming light flashed through the nursery’s glass. Without hesitation, her immediate thought was for the vulnerable lives entrusted to her care. “I just told my sister nurse, save the babies,” she recalled. “I went in. I didn’t think about what would happen next.”
According to Noreen, the fire appeared to originate from the side of an air-conditioning unit positioned directly in front of her. "The AC was right in front of me, and the fire was coming out of its side," she stated. "We don’t know what was happening behind it. That’s just what I saw.” The government’s interim inquiry report, submitted on August 28, noted that the precise cause of the fire remained inconclusive, with evidence pointing to potential sources including the air conditioner, an incubator, or an electrical short circuit.
Inside the smoke-filled nursery, Noreen’s priority was to extract as many infants as possible. She reached the nearest baby, an infant she would later carry out to safety, handing the child to Dr. Abdul Rehman, who had emerged from an adjacent room. Her intention was to return for more, to save as many as she could. "I thought I’d get five, six, seven, eight more of them out," she recounted, her voice tinged with regret. "But the fire was moving faster than I was.”
Dr. Rimsha, who had been conducting rounds nearby and witnessed the same alarming light, followed Noreen into the nursery. Together with Sister Nasreen, they attempted to crawl through the thickening smoke, seeking to reach the remaining infants. A sudden power outage plunged the room into darkness, rendering their efforts futile. The escape route was blocked by the intensifying inferno.
Noreen’s personal mobile phone, left behind on a medication table in her haste to enter the nursery, remained inside the burning ward overnight. Hospital security personnel eventually recovered it the following afternoon; its casing bore the scorched marks of the fire.
Unable to re-enter the nursery, Noreen, Dr. Rimsha, and Sister Nasreen shifted their focus to an adjoining gynaecology ward where a separate rescue team was actively evacuating babies. They worked tirelessly, catching newborns lowered from the ward and rushing them to the neonatal intensive care unit, until the smoke became too overwhelming to continue. The government’s inquiry report later refuted claims of negligence, stating that evidence “does not support generalized allegations that front-line medical and nursing staff simply abandoned the newborns.”
When asked about the profound role of a nurse for newborns separated from their mothers, Noreen offered a simple yet powerful analogy: they become the infant’s first mother. “A mother who gives birth endures a pain no one else can stand in for,” she explained. “But once a baby is in our hands, no one else is watching over it the way we are, checking their oxygen, their feeding, whether they’re breathing right, every two hours, whatever else is happening around us. That is why we are their first mother.”
A Life Dedicated to Children
At 38 years old, Razia Noreen has dedicated 21 years of her life to public service nursing, with the last seventeen spent at PIMS. Trained in Karachi at the age of 17, a transfer brought her to the Islamabad hospital in 2009. Noreen, who has never married, expressed profound contentment with her chosen path. "Thank God, I am very happy with the children," she stated when asked about her personal life.
Born in Sahiwal, Punjab, Noreen is one of seven children. Her father, Victor John, a pastor, passed away when she was in eighth grade. She has lost two sisters, while another sister, also a nurse, resides in Lahore. Her 83-year-old mother, a retired government school teacher, lives in Lahore with one of Noreen’s brothers. Noreen herself has resided in the PIMS staff hostel, adjacent to her workplace, for nearly two decades.
The inability to contact her family directly after the fire, due to her phone being lost in the nursery, was a significant distress. Fortunately, her niece, who was staying with her that week, was found by the hostel warden, who then relayed the message to the family in Lahore, confirming Noreen’s safety.
Understaffed and Overburdened: A Recurring Reality
On the morning of the fire, Noreen and Sister Nasreen were the sole nurses on duty in a nursery caring for fifteen infants, supported by two doctors, one of whom was stationed two rooms away. Noreen described this staffing level as typical for a night shift. "Sometimes there are 20 babies, sometimes 25," she noted. "It’s always the two of us.”
Doctors on her ward typically work extended 36-hour shifts. The handover process between nursing shifts, which involves meticulously checking each baby’s medication, feeding schedule, and vital signs, can take approximately 45 minutes, a considerable duration given the number of infants. The cost of medications, especially injections, can amount to tens of thousands of Pakistani rupees per treatment, all provided by PIMS. "Sometimes we get a break, sometimes we don’t," Noreen admitted. "When the workload is heavy, even the water we carry with us goes back home untouched.”
Alarmingly, no fire drills had been conducted in the nursery prior to the August 26 incident, even following a separate fire at a nearby PIMS hostel in July. Noreen emphasized the critical need for preparedness. “We should all have proper drills. If a fire starts, everyone needs to already know what to do.” She outlined essential safety measures, including accessible fire extinguishers, effective cross-ventilation systems to manage smoke, and a pre-established evacuation route for infants unable to move independently.
A Nation’s Gratitude, A Nurse’s Unwavering Dedication
Prior to the fire, Noreen’s name was largely unknown outside her immediate department. “I have almost no presence in the main hospital,” she remarked. “Nobody there knows who I am. I work in the nursery, in my own department. I never imagined that saving one baby would take me this far.”
Her journey to meet Prime Minister Sharif on Thursday was facilitated by government transport. During their meeting, Sharif lauded her as “the nation’s daughter” and declared her act would be remembered “in golden letters” in Pakistan’s history. He confirmed that Noreen would formally receive the nation’s Sitara-i-Khidmat (Star of Service) award on March 23 and presented her with a check for 10 million Pakistani rupees (approximately $36,000).
Noreen used the platform to acknowledge the contributions of her colleagues. “My fellow nurses work with just as much dedication,” she stated. “This was a very heartbreaking incident.”
Haunted by the Night: The Lingering Trauma
Eight days after the fire, Noreen remained unwell, experiencing intermittent fevers and a persistent cough attributed to smoke inhalation. She was taking antibiotics and sleeping medication, but neither proved effective. "I haven’t slept, not since that day," she confessed. "I take the tablets, I drink the cough syrup, but sleep doesn’t come. I close my eyes, and I open them again.”
The entirety of the horrific event, the cries of the mothers and the imagined screams of the babies, replayed constantly in her mind, preventing any semblance of rest. She had only been signed off on medical rest the day prior to the interview, with colleagues providing steady support during her moments of overwhelming grief. "I would just start crying, sitting there," she said. "They supported me like I was a child.” Yet, the nights remained a solitary battle against the resurfacing memories. "It comes back to the same thing," she reiterated. "When I’m in the hostel, when I’m alone, it all comes back.”
A Mother’s Grief, A Nurse’s Hope
The infant Noreen rescued, a baby girl whose name had not yet been chosen, remained in critical condition in the neonatal intensive care unit. Born prematurely at just over a kilogram (2 pounds, 3 ounces), the baby was already facing significant health challenges before the fire. Noreen met the baby’s parents for the first time the day before her meeting with the prime minister. "She [the baby’s mother, Asifa] hugged me and thanked me, and cried, and I cried with her," Noreen shared, her voice thick with emotion. "Because for the rest of the children, my heart is still exactly where it was.”
She offered words of encouragement to the distraught mother, echoing her own hope: "I said, look, your child survived such a huge storm, she will survive what comes next, too. You pray, and I will pray.”
When asked for advice for her fellow nurses, Noreen urged them to work with integrity and unwavering commitment. "When you work somewhere with honesty, the reward comes eventually," she stated. "It came to me after 21 years. Work with the same loyalty. That is our real strength.”
Then, her thoughts returned to the fourteen infants who did not survive. "I do regret it," she said, the words a heavy burden. "I could not save the rest of the children. That, I regret.”
