Neighbourhoods wail the loss

KARACHI: As she stands at the site of the destruction, Rafiq-un-Nisa holds up a framed picture of six beautiful women; her sister, nieces and sister-in-law.

All but one of them was inside the factory when it caught fire on Tuesday night. Nisa's nephew, also an employee at the factory, was outside the factory at the time. When he saw the blaze, he rushed inside to try and save his family members. He still hasn't been found.

It was about 2:30am when Nisa, in Hyderabad at the time, received the horrifying news. She immediately caught the first bus to Karachi, and has been standing outside the factory with the picture in her hand ever since.

"My family is no more. All I can hope for is to find their remains, and bury them peacefully."

There are countless such families that have been broken forever by the fire. They stand in queue at a camp set up by the government, waiting to identify the charred remains of their loved ones. There are a handful of IDs lying on the counter. Family members arrive. Some hold back their tears, most are unable to internalise their grief.

"My 18-year-old was inside. I have looked at all the hospitals. I put his name in the list," said a man in his 50s, holding back his tears.

"Muhammad Javed was his name, the only son of his father," explains a woman inside the camp. She carries a file with his picture and work details.

There is a rush of ambulances in the background, their wailing sirens a signal for people to move out of the way. The rubble is still being cleared and stream of bodies draped in white cloth keep emerging from the ruins. Fumes gush out of the smouldering building and water seeps out of the floor, in which volunteers have seen body parts floating.

Factory workers from adjoining areas flock to the place. It could have been their bodies being pulled out of the remains, for they work in similar conditions, without emergency exits and fire extinguishers.

"Six buses full of workers from our neighbourhood came to this factory every day, around 300 people. Some survived, some lost a limb or two and others were reduced to ash," said an onlooker hailing from Orangi.

"I work in Noor Garments, a nearby factory, and as a general practice they lock us up inside rooms until our shift comes to an end. That is what happened here too."

Firemen say that they had to break down a locked gate to gain entrance to the factory. The workers had been locked inside, with no means of escape.

A teenage boy stumbles out of the mob; unable to cope with the smell of burning flesh and blood, he vomits on the floor in front of him.

"My brother-in-law died. We hail from Mohajir Camp No 3. Come to my place, I'll show how every other house in our neighbourhood has lost a member," said an old lady in tears.