Writhing in excruciating pain from severe burns, 43 of the over 150 critically injured—mostly children—from Monday’s devastating Milestone School and College aircraft crash and the subsequent fire are receiving treatment at the National Institute of Burn and Plastic Surgery, as grieving parents silently wipe away tears and pray for their recovery after the tragedy that claimed 29 lives.
During a visit to the institute on Wednesday morning, the corridors were lined with weeping family members—some seated on the floor, others peering anxiously through glass doors for a glimpse of their loved ones.
Some paced between the ward and the ICU, desperate to ensure their children were receiving the care they needed.
To prevent infections and ensure proper treatment for the burn victims, hospital authorities have restricted access to the wards.
Doctors, nurses and hospital staff are working tirelessly to provide the highest level of care.
From relatives to medical workers, everyone is making efforts to fulfill the smallest requests of the injured children—responding promptly to their needs, especially regarding food or comfort.
Children suffer in silence
All the children admitted to the burn institute are suffering intensely from burns and scalding injuries.
Parents were seen fanning the affected areas with their hands or paper to offer some relief.
Many mothers quietly wiped away their tears with the edge of their sarees, whispering prayers for their children's recovery.
Outside the institute, a parent was found crying on the floor.
"Allah, please save my child," she prayed.
This correspondent learned that her son, Md Mahtab Rahman Bhuiyan, 15, a seventh-grade English version student at Milestone, had suffered burns over nearly 70% of his body.
He remains in the ICU, fighting for his life.
She called upon the nation to pray for his survival.
Meanwhile, Tamjid Hossain tearfully shared: “My only niece—my heart breaks watching her cry. Large parts of her face and body are burned. She is in so much pain. Even under the air conditioner, she pleads, ‘Mama, fan me. Mama, fan me.’ I never even let her near the kitchen fearing heat—and now she lies in agony, burned by fire.”
Parents plead for accountability
The atmosphere outside the institute is heavy with the cries of anguished parents and relatives.
Some voiced their sorrow, lamenting how the children who were meant to return home after school to share lunch now lie on hospital beds, battling for their lives.
Angry and devastated, parents questioned where their children will be truly safe. They asked if even schools cannot ensure their safety, what options remain for them.
Grieving parents questioned whether life holds any value in the country, wondering aloud if leaving Bangladesh would offer any real solution.
They also expressed deep frustration, asking if lawmakers will ever truly understand the worth of a human life.
Their voices broke into sobs as they pleaded for answers.
Saidur Rahman, emerging from the ICU, said: “The condition of the burn victims is indescribable. Many have been admitted with burns over nearly 100% of their bodies—most of them are children. Without divine intervention, their survival seems impossible.”
He added: “Who is responsible for these lost lives? How will the government answer this? And even if they do, will those children ever return?”
This parent said the tragedy has left little bodies charred and little hearts broken, with survivors trapped in a cycle of pain so intense it draws tears from even the strongest.