Why medical negligence continues to destroy families, and why a permanent solution still looks distant
“Aisey Dastoor Ko Main Nahi Janta — Main Nahi Manta…”
Dr. Fiaz Maqbool Fazili
The death of a child is an agony words can barely hold but the death of a child due to medical negligence is a wound that never heals. It is not just a tragedy; it is a betrayal of the sacred oath to “do no harm,” an injustice that shakes faith in humanity, institutions, professionals, and the very systems meant to protect life. Little Ahmad’s case is yet another heartbreaking reminder of how fragile the promise of care in our healthcare system has become. What happened to him — first at a private hospital and later at a state-run emergency facility — is not an “error,” nor an “unfortunate incident.” It represents a collapse of ethics, professional competence, morality, and duty-consciousness at every level.
As a clinical auditor, and to anyone objectively examining the sequence of events as described by the deeply distressed mother — pending final conclusions by the inquiry committee — the case appears to point toward medical negligence. The apathy, the delays, the absence of proper Emergency Department triage, the refusal to follow evidence-based protocols and clinical algorithms — all form a brutal, undeniable chain of failures.
What this family endured is not unfamiliar to those who have stood helplessly outside emergency rooms teaching or non-teaching begging for attention, pleading for care, and watching their loved ones slip away because someone in authority failed to act. Many among us know this pain. Some have buried loved ones because the system refused to protect them. Losing little Ahmad under such harrowing circumstances is beyond tragic —it is a moral crime.
Pending the official confirmation of events, the reaction of netizens — who largely believe the family’s account circulating on social media — points to a deeper crisis. The alleged negligence at these supposed places of hope reflects a systemic failure: delayed assessment, inadequate stabilisation, poor communication, and a severe breach of duty. At the state-run hospital, what should have been a swift, structured, professional emergency response, guided by evidence-based protocols, instead descended into a chaotic, uncoordinated struggle that cost precious time — and a life.
These failures are not random. They are symptoms of structural weaknesses we inherited from past non-visionary healthcare leadership. A system where inquiries often appear superficial, findings remain undisclosed, and truth gets diluted by rumours until no one is held accountable. A system where repeated complaints against certain practitioners do not result in meaningful action, and institutions hide behind committees rather than confronting misconduct.
Medical negligence continues because the system permits it. Hospitals conduct inquiries, but findings rarely become public. Licences are seldom suspended. Contracts are terminated quietly, without long-term consequence. The same individuals resurface elsewhere with the same attitudes and the same disregard for life. Families are encouraged to “settle” — sometimes due to exhaustion, pressure, or the belief that justice is impossible. Others attempt to fight, but legal hurdles — especially after recent Supreme Court interpretations of Section 304-A — make criminal negligence extremely hard to prove. Consumer forums too have become more demanding in granting interim relief.
Where, then, does a grieving family go? How many battles must they fight? How many doors must they knock? Why must they face delays, intimidation, and silence from institutions created to protect them?
Yet, despite the obstacles, one truth remains: all hope is not lost. The Supreme Court’s stringent rulings do not deny justice; they demand stronger, well-documented cases. And this is precisely what needs to happen. Ahmad’s family must build a watertight case supported by medical records, expert opinions, timelines, standards of care, and legal analysis. Criminal prosecution under 304-A may be complex but not impossible. And the Medical Councils — both J&K and National — retain the authority to examine misconduct and suspend or cancel licences based on the magnitude of negligence.
Justice is not solely about punishing individuals — it is also about exposing systemic gaps through a professional Root Cause Analysis (RCA). Only then can we initiate genuine reforms and ensure that other families do not bury their children due to preventable errors. For that to happen, inquiry findings must be transparent, unbiased, professionally driven, and made public. Institutions must not bury truth under the guise of confidentiality. Transparency is the first step. Accountability is the second.
A major problem in our emotionally driven society is that once the initial outrage fades — the social media storm, protests, and public anger — many families eventually compromise. Some accept compensation. Some are pressured. Some lose the strength to continue. And when they compromise, the truth gets buried with the child. The system moves on unchanged. In my decades of advocating for patient rights, I have witnessed this painful cycle repeatedly.
When families give up, the pattern repeats — hospitals evade scrutiny, negligent individuals continue working, procedures remain obsolete, and the next tragedy becomes inevitable.
This time, the cycle must break. The tragic story now viral — #JusticeForAhmad — must evolve into a sustained campaign for zero tolerance toward negligence. Not to attack institutions but to reform them. Not to punish blindly but to demand truth. Not to politicise tragedy but to humanise a broken system. Ahmad’s story must not end with condolences. It must spark reforms that transform emergency care, accountability mechanisms, and patient rights in Kashmir.
Permanent solutions are possible — but they require individual and collective will. They require institutions to confront reality rather than hide behind committees. They require medical councils to restore public trust through decisive action. They require administrators to put patient safety above institutional image. They require doctors to understand that negligence is not a “mistake” — it is a violation of human trust and a punishable offence. And they require families to refuse silence.
Ahmad’s family now carries a burden no parent should ever bear. Their pain is infinite. Their loss irreparable. No apology, compensation, or disciplinary step can bring their child back. But justice — real, transparent, uncompromised justice — can give meaning to their struggle. It can save the next child. It can force a complacent system to reform.
May Allah grant this family sabr-e-jameel. May He give them strength and solace. May He grant them ni‘mat-ul-badal in ways only He knows. And may this tragedy awaken our collective conscience so deeply that no child is ever lost again to negligence disguised as healthcare.
Justice is not just a hashtag. It is a demand for truth, accountability, and change. A demand that must not fade, must not be silenced, and must never be compromised.
(Author is a Clinical Auditor, Healthcare Policy Analyst, and Expert on Patient Safety. He can be reached at: drfiazfazili@gmail.com)
