KARACHI: Pushing a stretcher beside a wall adjacent to the main entrance at the Burns Centre Karachi, Mohammad Mumtaz on Wednesday stared at the burnt and swollen face of his now sleeping son. Having received 37 per cent burn injuries on his body, Altaf Hussain, 12, is among the 35 children who worked at a fireworks facility in Memon Goth, near the Solangi bus stop. There was an explosion inside the facility that instantly killed five of them and wounded six others on Tuesday.

With dried blood stains prominent on his shirt, Mumtaz looked haggard and shocked. Hailing from Naseerabad in Larkana district, Mumtaz is among the many labourers that gradually migrated from Sindh to Memon Goth, predominantly populated by Sindhi and Baloch labourers, to look for a job. “I worked as a kid myself,” he said, while standing outside the office of the man in charge. “There’s no other way to earn money… And the owner of the fireworks facility pays Rs3,000 to both my kids.”

His younger son, Zahid Hussain, 10, survived as well, with burn injuries on his eyes, forehead and lower body. “He was sent back home early. But I’m worried for Altaf. He doesn’t look like he’ll survive,” he said nervously.

Back in Memon Goth, a sparsely populated area surrounded with farmhouses with shanty homes in its centre, the families of those injured were gathered inside a small hut, discussing what to do next.

Accounts of families revealed that at the facility, there were two blasts which “were heard in another town as well” at around 6.30pm on Tuesday.

“By the time the rescue workers arrived, it was already past midnight,” said Ghulam Ali, an uncle of one of the victims.

However, none of the families knew more than that. Most of them got defensive and said they had no idea their children worked at the fireworks facility.

Speaking for all of them, as some of them nodded in agreement with him, Ghulam Ali said: “This was done clandestinely. The children were told not to tell anyone about it. Plus, there was no elder to supervise them, apart from a gatekeeper. The doors were usually locked from outside when the firecrackers were made.”

However, the investigation officer of the Memon Goth police, Mukhtiar Ali, rejected the statement, and said: “They are poor people and have nothing to eat. They are saying this to save face. Two people related to two of the deceased were guards at the same facility. At least one of them should have informed them.”

A kilometre from the Solangi bus stop was the compound of the firework facility. Built widely, two rooms inside the compound had turned to rubble with the stench of firecracker powder still fresh in the air. Pink packets of firecrackers called ‘super dholki’ were strewn across the compound whereas a pile of small tube-like containers, used to fill in the explosive powder, were kept in a corner. Inside another doorway, small tin containers were kept neatly on the ground.

The IO said the facility was previously an abandoned poultry farm. “Three of the surviving children said in their initial statements that they started working at the factory a week ago. The factory itself was established recently. The land owner is named Abbas Channa and Hanif Memon is the factory owner. The children were promised Rs3,000 per month for their work.”

An FIR (82/2014) was also lodged at the Memon Goth police station by the family of the children.

A few kilometres from the Solangi bus stop, Mumtaz Ali’s youngest son, Zahid, 10, had an oversized bandage on his head while his eyes were bloodshot and protruding. His mother was busy balancing one child in her lap and trying to fan away the flies from Zahid’s face. The child didn’t say much but nodded when asked whether he discussed working at the facility with his family.

Dr Ehmer-Al-Ibran, in charge of the burns centre, said: “Considering Altaf’s age and health status, the burns on his upper torso, though apparently less in percentage, might prove dangerous.” He said the child might develop inhalation problem due to deep facial burns. Ranting about the “system”, he said the burns centre “is usually short staffed, has fewer beds available for incoming patients and has to ask patients to bring in medicines. We can’t even afford a small emergency.”

As Mumtaz blankly followed orders of the hospital staff to arrange money for an emergency treatment, he was seen calling up a few relatives to arrange the amount required. Meanwhile, his son slept obliviously beside the entrance door of the burns centre.

Published in Dawn, May 22nd, 2014