Hero Nurse Saves One Infant, Mourns 14 Lives Lost in Pakistan Hospital Fire

Islamabad, Pakistan – Staff nurse Razia Noreen, 38, was preparing morning injections in the nursery ward of Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences (PIMS) when she saw a sudden, intense red light through the glass panel of the room. The light signaled the outbreak of a fire that would claim 14 newborn babies and leave one infant alive thanks to her swift action.

The blaze broke out at 6:38 a.m. on Wednesday, 26 August. According to security‑camera timestamps later reviewed by a government inquiry, Noreen entered the nursery 56 seconds after the alarm, emerging eight seconds later carrying a baby. She attempted to re‑enter but was forced out by the rapidly spreading smoke. By 6:40 a.m. the nursery was engulfed, its cameras blinded by the thick haze.

Rescue Effort

Noreen had been on a night shift that began at 8 p.m. the previous evening, working a routine medication round with colleague Sister Nasreen. When the abnormal light appeared, she said she did not pause to identify it.

“I just told my sister nurse, ‘save the babies,’” she recalled. “I went in. I didn’t think about what would happen next.”

She later identified the fire’s origin as the side of an air‑conditioning unit standing directly in front of her. “The AC was right in front of me, and the fire was coming out of its side,” she explained. “We don’t know what was happening behind it. That’s just what I saw.”

An interim government inquiry submitted on 28 August could not determine a single cause, noting that possibilities included the air‑conditioner, an incubator or an electrical short‑circuit.

Inside the nursery, Noreen located the nearest infant among 15 babies, lifted it and handed it to Dr Abdul Rehman, who was performing a feeding‑tube insertion nearby. After delivering the child, she turned back, hoping to rescue more.

“I thought I’d get five, six, seven, eight more of them out,” she said. “But the fire was moving faster than I was.”

Dr Rimsha, another doctor on rounds, followed Noreen into the ward. Together with Sister Nasreen they attempted to crawl back through the smoke, but a sudden power loss plunged the room into darkness, halting their progress.

Noreen’s phone, left on a medication table when she rushed in, was recovered by hospital guards the following afternoon, its case still scorched and cracked.

The trio then assisted a separate rescue team that was lowering infants from an adjoining gynaecology ward. They passed the babies to the neonatal intensive‑care unit until the smoke became unbearable.

The inquiry later concluded that evidence “does not support generalized allegations that front‑line medical and nursing staff simply abandoned the newborns.”

Nurse as First Mother

When asked about the role of a nurse to a motherless newborn, Noreen offered a profound perspective: “A mother who gives birth endures a pain no one else can stand in for. 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.”

Personal Background

Noreen, who has spent 21 years in government nursing—17 of them at PIMS—describes herself as devoted to the children in her care. Born in Sahiwal, Punjab, she trained in Karachi at age 17 after finishing school. A transfer brought her to PIMS in 2009, and she has never married.

“Thank God, I am very happy with the children,” she said when asked directly about her work.

She is one of seven siblings; her father, Victor John, a pastor, died when she was in eighth grade. Two of her sisters have passed away, while a third—also a nurse—lives in Lahore. Her 83‑year‑old mother, a retired government school teacher who is hard of hearing, resides in Lahore with one of Noreen’s brothers.

Noreen lives in the PIMS staff hostel, located opposite the ward where the tragedy occurred. With her phone trapped in the burning ward, she could not reach her family, but her niece—who was staying with her that week—alerted the family in Lahore that Noreen was safe.

Staffing Challenges

On the night of the fire, only two nurses—Noreen and Sister Nasreen—were on duty for the 15 infants, supported by two doctors, one of whom was two rooms away. “Sometimes there are 20 babies, sometimes 25,” Noreen noted. “It’s always the two of us.”

Doctors on her ward work 36‑hour shifts, starting at 8 a.m. and finishing the following day at 2 p.m. Handovers, medication checks, feeding assessments and vital‑sign monitoring take about 45 minutes per batch, and the cost of drugs can reach tens of thousands of Pakistani rupees per injection—all supplied free by PIMS.

“Sometimes we get a break, sometimes we don’t,” she said. “When the workload is heavy, even the water we carry with us goes back home untouched.”

No fire drill had been conducted in the nursery prior to 26 August, despite a earlier blaze in a nearby PIMS hostel in July. “We should all have proper drills,” she emphasised. “If a fire starts, everyone needs to already know what to do.” She called for readily accessible extinguishers, cross‑ventilation to clear smoke, and rehearsed evacuation routes for babies who cannot walk or call for help.

National Recognition

Until the disaster, Noreen said, “almost nobody outside my own ward knew my name.” After the fire, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif travelled to meet her, calling her “the nation’s daughter” and promising her act would be remembered “in golden letters” in Pakistan’s history.

Sharif confirmed that Noreen will receive the Sitara‑i‑Khidmat (Star of Service) award at a ceremony on 23 March and handed her a cheque for ten million Pakistani rupees (approximately $36,000).

During the meeting, she reiterated what she had shared privately with colleagues: “My fellow nurses work with just as much dedication. This was a very heartbreaking incident.”

Ongoing Trauma

Eight days after the fire, Noreen remains ill, battling intermittent fevers of 102‑103 °F (38.9‑39.4 °C) and a persistent cough linked to smoke inhalation. She takes antibiotics and sleeping tablets, yet “I haven’t slept, not since that day,” she said. “I close my eyes, and I open them again.”

Reminders of the event—particularly the screams of mothers and infants—continue to haunt her, preventing rest. She was placed on medical leave just a day before this interview, with colleagues providing steady support.

“I would just start crying, sitting there,” she described. “They supported me like I was a child.” Yet, she added, “When I’m in the hostel, when I’m alone, it all comes back.”

Loss and Reflection

The infant Noreen saved—yet unnamed—remains in the neonatal intensive‑care unit one week later. Born preterm, weighing just over a kilogramme (2 lb 3 oz), the baby was already in fragile health before the fire and continues to face critical conditions.

Noreen met the child’s mother, Asifa, the day before the prime‑minister meeting. “She hugged me and thanked me, and cried, and I cried with her,” Noreen said, “because for the rest of the children, my heart is still exactly where it was.”

She has assured the mother that the surviving child will overcome the challenges ahead. “I said, look, your child survived such a huge storm, she will survive what comes next, too. You pray, and I will pray.”

Reflecting on her experience, Noreen advises fellow nurses to “work with honesty and without conditions.” “When you work somewhere with honesty, the reward comes eventually,” she said. “It came to me after 21 years. Work with the same loyalty. That is our real strength.”

Yet she cannot escape the grief over the 14 infants who perished. “I do regret it,” she admitted. “I could not save the rest of the children. That, I regret.”

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