The hospital struggling to save its starving babies
Warning: This story contains distressing details from the start.
“This is like doomsday for me. I feel so much grief. Can you imagine what I’ve gone through watching my children dying?” says Amina.
She’s lost six children. None of them lived past the age of three and another is now battling for her life.
Seven-month-old Bibi Hajira is the size of a newborn. Suffering from severe acute malnutrition, she occupies half a bed at a ward in Jalalabad regional hospital in Afghanistan’s eastern Nangarhar province.
“My children are dying because of poverty. All I can feed them is dry bread, and water that I warm up by keeping it out under the sun,” Amina says, nearly shouting in anguish.
What’s even more devastating is her story is far from unique – and that so many more lives could be saved with timely treatment.
Bibi Hajira is one of 3.2 million children with acute malnutrition, which is ravaging the country. It’s a condition that has plagued Afghanistan for decades, triggered by 40 years of war, extreme poverty and a multitude of factors in the three years since the Taliban took over.
But the situation has now reached an unprecedented precipice.
It’s hard for anyone to imagine what 3.2 million looks like, and so the stories from just one small hospital room can serve as an insight into the unfolding disaster.
There are 18 toddlers in seven beds. It’s not a seasonal surge, this is how it is day after day. No cries or gurgles, the unnerving silence in the room is only broken by the high-pitched beeps of a pulse rate monitor.
Most of the children aren’t sedated or wearing oxygen masks. They’re awake but they are far too weak to move or make a sound.
Sharing the bed with Bibi Hajira, wearing a purple tunic, her tiny arm covering her face, is three-year-old Sana. Her mother died while giving birth to her baby sister a few months ago, so her aunt Laila is taking care of her. Laila touches my arm and holds up seven fingers – one for each child she’s lost.
In the adjacent bed is three-year-old Ilham, far too small for his age, skin peeling off his arms, legs and face. Three years ago, his sister died aged two.
It is too painful to even look at one-year-old Asma. She has beautiful hazel eyes and long eyelashes, but they’re wide open, barely blinking as she breathes heavily into an oxygen mask that covers most of her little face.
Read more on BBC
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