After the bloodshed: How Lahore responded to tragedy
Lahore has beauty. Lahore has life.
On Sunday, around 72 people were killed and another 300 were injured as a suicide blast ripped through Gulshan-i-Iqbal park. The heart of Lahore and its children were under assault.
The park was crowded with families—mostly women and children— when the bomb went off. For many, it was a replay of the horrific Army Public School, Peshawar attack.
But Lahore has not reacted with fear. Instead, it chose compassion. Despite the warnings by the militant Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan Jamaatul Ahrar behind the attack, Lahore’s people and their spirit have overshadowed the intentions of the attackers.
When the whole city comes to help
At Jinnah Hospital—where close to 150 survivors are receiving treatment—the blood banks are running out of space. People are thronging the hospital in numbers greater than it has seen before. Adil, who manages a counter at the blood bank, says the bank is currently only taking contact information and sending people back.
Sher Khan and Usman, for instance, came on Monday to donate blood. They had come the day before too, but were turned away after waiting for three hours.
The two friends are not alone. Volunteers say that hospitals are overflowing with gifts and donations: flowers, juice boxes, lunch, clothes, bedsheets. Although Lahore is on high alert, the goal for many is to reach the hospital and help in any way they can.
Medical student Urooj rushed to the hospital as news of the blast broke and has spent the last two days finding out what survivors' immediate needs are. She has helped to coordinate supplies coming in and tending to what is needed next.
She has had to turn many people away, since there is enough stock of food and water, but she reminds them to keep in touch, since more help will be needed once things subside.
She is particularly concerned with what the survivors might need a few days from now, when they are discharged, and is taking note of all they might have to gather: wheelchairs, crutches, money for medicines.
An engineer by profession, Adil Rabbani has joined his group of friends who were already at the hospitals. He has made multiple rounds of all the hospitals helping out with the supplies. His friends too, have joined in, helping out in whatever way can.
Focusing on the bigger picture
Dr Amna Afzal was in surgical emergency at Jinnah Hospital when the blast happened. As victims began pouring in, she stayed on her feet and worked for 36 hours straight.
There's a lot of rushing around: shifting one patient from here to there, passing a tube to another, checking up on a third. "It's not a one-man job," Afzal says. "It happens only when a lot of people work together."
She remembers how the staff on-duty began going through the patients as soon as they came in. As the patients began to grow in number, off-duty staff was also called back— from nurses and sisters to professors and head of departments, everyone returned as they heard the news.
“The corridors were filled with dead bodies and patients,” she says. “It felt like the world was ending.”
Doctors worked tirelessly to ensure that as many victims as possible could be saved. At the end of the day, Dr Afzal says they knew they had to withstand the blast’s emotional trauma to focus on the bigger picture: saving lives.