Islamabad: When Mohammed Farooq received a late-night frantic call from a residence at Edhi’s Karachi emergency centre last week, he immediately alerted the team. Donning protective suits, bright blue gowns, masks and gloves, off they went. “When we reached the house, this young man said ‘Thank God, you are here. Please help my father. The cough is not stopping’. I told them to stand aside and that we’ll take care of his father.” By the time, Farooq’s team went aside, the middle-aged man was unconscious on the floor. They put him on the stretcher to get to the nearest hospital. “The family were in tears and the young man asked me: ‘What kind of disease is this, uncle? I can’t even go near my father. I can’t hold his hands’”, Farooq, 48, a veteran staffer at Edhi Foundation, told Gulf News, sharing a heartbreaking incident.
Farooq, who has been associated with the charity for 20 years, is one of the most active members of the foundation’s coronavirus relief team. “The team has 3,000 members in Karachi and 6,000 all across Pakistan,” Mohammed Bilal, in-charge of the ambulances section at Edhi, told Gulf News over the phone. The team has been thoroughly trained by doctors on how to safely don and doff personal protective equipment (PPEs) and guidelines on safe burials.
Dignified burial
Next morning, Farooq’s team received the call from the hospital to pick up the body of a COVID-19 patient. “It was the same man.” Farooq’s heart sank as he did not expect to see the boy so soon, not at least at his father’s funeral. “He was with me everywhere I needed and I couldn’t be with him in his last moments,” the man, who is in his early twenties, told Farooq, who consoled him saying, “It’s God’s wish”.
The family watched from a distance as Farooq’s 4-member team prepared for the burial. “I assured them that their father would have a dignified funeral service,” and it brought the family some comfort. But he can’t forget “fear, grief and anger” in the eyes of the son. Nor can he forget his words: “It was you who came to help my father when all the neighbours and relatives were too scared. They didn’t even come near our home as if we all are infected. But you helped him get to the hospital. How can I ever thank you!” Farooq wanted to give him a hug but all he said was: “Why, it’s an honour for me. May Allah heal this pain and sickness.”
His work gives Farooq a sense of satisfaction - of doing something not many would do. “Honouring the dead while protecting the living is my responsibility,” he said.
Alone and isolated
This service comes at a great sacrifice. Ensuring dignified burials in the era of forced isolation means separation from his family. Farooq has been working, eating, sleeping at the office for nearly two months. “When it becomes unbearable, I go see my wife and kids from a safe distance. I don’t touch them as I don’t want to risk their lives,” he said. This is the first Ramadan he has ever spent alone. “I never imagined a time when I won’t have sehri [suhoor] and iftar with my family. I miss them the most during Ramadan.” Farooq has been personally involved in the burial of at least 14 people who died from coronavirus in Karachi and supervised over 30 funeral services during the last weeks but has been in service since 2000.
No final goodbyes
A brutal trait of the pandemic is the way it separates families in final moments. “The disease is depriving us of our final goodbyes, our sacred rituals,” Farooq said. According to Islamic burial rites, bodies are washed carefully, wrapped and buried in shrouds without a coffin after a communal prayer led by an imam. In Pakistan, funerals are important social and cultural occasions. Coronavirus has dramatically changed the burial rituals. There are no large gatherings but a simple, sombre goodbye only attended by the few closest. “It’s heartbreaking,” Farooq said. “No flowers. No rites. No mourners. We can’t even show compassion to the families as we perform final rites for their loved ones. What terrible times. May Allah have mercy on us,” he said in gloom.
Silent, sombre burials
Following the official guidelines, the Edhi workers wearing PPEs perform the ghusl (bathing) of the deceased on their premises, wrapping the body in plastic bag and coffin, and taking it straight to the graveyard where the team along with the close family members, all wearing coveralls, offer the Namaz-i-Janaza (funeral prayer) with the coffin in the ambulance. The box is then finally lowered into the grave. “It is difficult to ask families to stand and pray from a distance.” The vehicles are disinfected after every trip. The World Health Organisation (WHO) has also advised that the family may view the body but not touch or kiss it and must maintain safety precautions at all times.
New cases overwhelm the services
During the epidemic days, all bodies of the deceased are treated as corona-suspect as families often hide the illness due to the fear and stigma attached to the disease, Bilal said. Since the coronavirus struck, Pakistan’s leading welfare organisation and world’s largest volunteer ambulance network, Edhi, is overwhelmed with work, which includes transferring suspected patients to the hospitals and supervising a safe and dignified burial. In the country’s biggest city, Karachi, the epidemic has claimed 138 lives and infected nearly 6,535 people as of May 6, accounting for nearly 75 per cent of the total (8,640) reported cases from Sindh province.
“This epidemic has instilled fear and stigma. It is separating people from loved ones in their final moments, disrupting the healing process. But I want to tell them that we are here to look after their sick and dead ones with all respect and dignity” Farooq assured.
