It&rsquo;s 10.30 pm on November 15&nbsp;in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit&nbsp;(NICU)&nbsp;of Jhansi&rsquo;s Maharani Laxmi Bai Medical College. The soft whimpers of 54 newborns are barely heard over the steady hum of machines keeping them alive. Anxious parents wait for the day they can take home their bundles of joy.&nbsp;
Barely 15 minutes later, an oxygen concentrator short-circuits, and a spark turns into a blaze. Pandemonium breaks out.&nbsp;
Hospital staff manage to rescue 44, but 10 will never go home. They will never take their first steps, or make it to their first day of school.
How do parents identify the corpses of babies they&rsquo;ve barely met? And most importantly, when will we stop calling these tragedies&nbsp;&ldquo;accidents&rdquo;&nbsp;and start calling them what they really are&mdash;failures of a system that promises life but isn't equipped to protect it?
If this sounds even vaguely hysterical or alarmist, consider this:
Jhansi&rsquo;s babies are hardly the first group of Indian newborns who have been killed in a space meant to help them fight to survive.
Less than six months ago, on May 27, seven infants died at Baby Care New Born Hospital in Delhi&rsquo;s Vivek Vihar. Another 10 infants were burnt when a fire that swept through the Sick Newborn Care Unit (SNCU) at the Bhandara District General Hospital in Maharashtra on January 9, 2021.
Going back further, five babies were killed on February 1, 2009, when an incubator caught fire at Patiala&rsquo;s Government Rajindra Hospital.
No doubt, these &ldquo;accidents&rdquo; raise questions on hospitals&rsquo; compliance with fire safety norms. For instance, media reports say the Vivek Vihar hospital was operating without a valid fire NOC, and that its license had expired. Meanwhile, the Jhansi and Patiala incidents indicate poorly maintained equipment and infrastructure.
Then there&rsquo;s the issue of overcrowding, which compromises both safety and quality of care. The Jhansi NICU, built with a &nbsp;capacity of 51 according to news reports from January, was treating &ldquo;54&ndash;55&rdquo; infants at the time of the fire&mdash;exceeding safe operational limits. Similarly, the Vivek Vihar hospital where seven infants died had clearance for only five NICU beds, but was treating 12 at the time of the fire. ​
It could be a coincidence that many of these fatal fires occurred late at night or early in the morning over the weekend. Except that this is when hospitals typically operate with fewer and less experienced staff. The practice makes sense from the perspective of limited patient intake and reduced outpatient services at night, especially since senior doctors are on call.
But it also means that the few staff on shift need to be highly trained in crisis management. Reports from Vivek Vihar suggest that staff were unprepared to handle the crisis, leaving families to fend for themselves. This points to inadequate training and emergency response planning, especially in the case of evacuations.
As with any tragedy, politicians and leaders have been vocal in their outpourings of grief and condolences.
Prime Minister Modi has announced an ex-gratia amount of ₹2 lakh for the next of kin of each of the deceased in a gesture of support.
Various claims tribunals in India consider the age of the deceased, their potential earnings, if they are an only child, and inflation while deciding compensation amounts in inter-personal conflicts. They also make space for interest in the compensation amount. But how do you place a number value on a life, especially one that has barely begun?
If the authorities think that any monetary amount&mdash;no matter how high&mdash;can truly compensate the families of these lost babies, they&rsquo;d better think again.
Now, suppose hospitals comply with fire safety norms, they move units containing oxygen and other accelerants to a safe distance, maintain their electrical equipment, and ensure their staff are properly trained to handle all eventualities, including fire evacuations. Suppose hospital administrators go beyond the bare minimum. Say, for instance, they choose fire-retardant wall paints, instead of cheaper flammable ones. Or, safer options like latex, cork or even treated wood, instead of petroleum-based options like polyurethane for furniture and interiors.
Does this preclude the chance that a fire could break out?
Of course not! But that would, by definition, be an accident. What happened in Jhansi, in New Delhi, in Bhandara and in Patiala most certainly were not.
No amount of compensation can fill the void left by these tragedies. It&rsquo;s time for hospitals to move beyond token gestures and excuses, ensuring robust safety protocols and infrastructure that leave no room for negligence. Only then can we truly differentiate preventable disasters from unavoidable accidents&mdash;and safeguard the most fragile lives in our care.

We need to safeguard the most fragile lives in our care.

Negligence, overcrowding, and poor infrastructure are turning neonatal units into death traps

When Safety Fails: India's Fatal NICU Fires

Negligence, overcrowding, and poor infrastructure are turning neonatal units into death traps

November 16, 2024 | 14:56 IST