February 20, 2003

Today was one of the best Eids I’ve ever had. All of us from class five of Al-Afzal school had gathered to go and distribute sweets to the children in Civil Hospital’s pediatric ward. It was a bright day, the sun was streaming down through the nippy air in radiant swirls of light. We were to leave from school at 11.00 for the hospital with Mrs Farhat, the school principal and two other teachers. As we were scrambling into the van, the dog in the lane, who had just given birth to puppies, bit Asim, one of the boys. He wasn’t bleeding profusely, but it was a bite nonetheless.

Asim did not even cry and Mrs Farhat decided that we’d show him to the doctor at the Civil Hospital. She was horrified that the dog and puppies could just be found lying there in the middle of the narrow lane, sprawled out in the midst of a rubbish heap. To add fuel to the fire, people threw their rubbish and food there for the dogs to live happily ever after on, in their ‘home’. Well for us colony dwellers this was nothing new — to live with the dogs, flies and any other creature on earth with their myriad bites. But Mrs Farhat thinks otherwise. I guess that’s what life is like in the street of big houses nearby.

Anyhow, we all climbed in and sped off to the hospital. It took a while tracing Dr Faraz in the ward but we got a chance to walk through the wards. Most of them were festooned with colourful buntings, and garlands to create a festive mood for Eid, to lift the spirits of the patients. Some of the young patients were all decked out in rainbow-hued finery so that they too did not miss out on the occasion.

So, we thought we had it bad. The children in the ward were much worse. There was one child who had a sugar problem. Pale and limp, he lay there with his mother besides him. Boy, did he perk up when we gave him the sweets and took his photograph with us. The smile said it all.

Another had malaria which had affected his brain. A third child was huge and bloated, his face puffy, his belly distended, his feet swollen from water retention. It was a genetic disease Dr Faraz explained. Besides us, in the wards, in groups huddled around the patients, were young doctors-to-be with their professors, learning the ropes; examining patients and listening to their seniors. I looked at them trim and radiant in their sparkling white gowns. Perhaps when I grow up, and if I study hard, I’ll become a doctor-to-be like them too.

In the emergency ward, the doctor showed us patients of malnutrition who’d been rushed there for help. They were almost unconscious, dazed, glassy-eyed and obviously starved. Dr Faraz pulled at the skin of the child’s stomach and it resembled an old dried rubber tire which refused to bounce back. It did as a slow realization dawned on the body and it slowly reclaimed itself.

The teachers and Miss Farah were shocked and wondered how parents could be so apathetic to allow things to reach such a pass, before bringing their children in; couldn’t they see their state before? But we thought otherwise — for us there are so many problems; so many children to bring up on a meagre income. What if dad is unemployed, how does one then feed them? You hope for the best and try to make things stretch, by adding water to the milk to make it last.

Yesterday I went to bed without dinner. There was nothing in the house and it yawned empty like Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. And the day before when the teacher was asking the class what we had eaten for dinner, three children replied that they hadn’t eaten anything. One boy said that they usually don’t have dinner. Their mother leaves the house at maghrib and tells them to shut the door and just go off to sleep — which they do.

Then we see people in the rich street next door, throwing out food. People say that inequality causes crime. What do you do when you are starving and have to sleep hungry everyday while people next door have huge weddings feasts and throw out tonnes of food? We think ‘OK so they have too much money and they could do without a bit.’ Wasn’t that how the French revolution started and Marie Antoinette had said “If they don’t have bread give them cake”?

Dr Faraz told us many a time to be conscious of hygiene, to wash our hands, the food before eating and to keep the place clear of flies. But what are we to do in an area infested with them? By noon in winter when the sun builds up heat they descend on us in swarms. If not in the house then around, the filth and garbage of the streets attracts them. The puppies caked in filth too lie at the school entrance, not to mention the ants, cockroaches, rats etc. All that needs money: to spray to remove them and that means going without food for a day. What would you choose? You would do without the luxury and live with the filth than without the food I’m sure.

Yesterday, Neelo came crying to school. Her finger was bleeding profusely. The blood wouldn’t stop. A rat had bitten her while she was asleep at night. She sleeps on the floor of her home and its difficult to keep the rodents away.

I could go on about our travails but thank God we are still healthy and if we work hard and study, with His help, we will be able to make something of our future — maybe be one of the doctors-to-be in gleaming white coats. At least we are not ill and can strive for a better tomorrow.

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