By Ghulam Hussain Baloch
The quiet catastrophe unfolding in medicine cabinets across the country is no longer a distant statistic or a line on a government report. It is the lived reality of millions—children with fevers left untreated, elderly patients forced to skip doses, mothers wrestling with the impossible choice between buying bread or life-saving medication. The soaring prices of medicines have turned what should be basic healthcare into an unaffordable luxury. This crisis is not only economic; it is a profound human tragedy that exposes the widening fault lines within our healthcare system and society. Across both bustling cities and remote villages, the price tags on essential medicines have outpaced the means of ordinary people. What was once considered affordable, even routine, now feels like a distant aspiration.
Antibiotics, insulin for diabetics, painkillers—these essentials have all slipped beyond the reach of many households. The financial strain does not discriminate entirely; while the poorest bear the brunt, even the middle classes find their budgets squeezed by medical bills. This creeping crisis is quietly eroding the health and well-being of a broad swath of the population, silently deepening inequality. Health is not a privilege reserved for the wealthy. It is a fundamental human right, enshrined in every declaration and echoed in the hopes of every family. Yet when medicines become prohibitively expensive, what we are witnessing is not just policy failure, but a collapse of moral responsibility.
The stark contrast could not be clearer. In private hospitals and clinics, those who can pay still find shelves stocked and care accessible. But public hospitals, which serve the majority, are overwhelmed and chronically under-resourced. Their pharmacies are often bare, leaving patients to fend for themselves in the face of illness. In such circumstances, even the most common ailments can spiral into life-threatening emergencies, not due to the absence of medical knowledge but because of the absence of affordable medicine. The roots of this crisis are complex and interwoven. Currency depreciation and the rising costs of imports have undeniably pushed prices higher. But these are only symptoms of a deeper malaise.
The absence of effective price regulation allows pharmaceutical companies to set prices with little oversight or accountability. Regulatory bodies tasked with protecting public interests often lack the resources or will to enforce fair pricing. This regulatory vacuum has turned medicine pricing into an opaque business, shielded from public scrutiny, enabling profiteering at the expense of patients. This lack of transparency exacts a terrible toll on those least able to bear it. Ironically, the poorest pay the highest price—not just in monetary terms but in the shortened lives and unnecessary suffering caused by inaccessible treatment. The middle class, often overlooked in policy discussions, is not spared either.
Faced with mounting medical expenses, many are driven into debt or forced to postpone necessary care, placing their health in jeopardy. There are solutions, but they require political courage and a renewed commitment to public welfare. The government must reclaim its role as the guardian of public health. Implementing and enforcing price caps on essential medicines is not an attack on business interests but a necessary protection for the people. Subsidies targeted at those most vulnerable can ease immediate burdens and save lives. Equally important is the encouragement of local pharmaceutical production, which can reduce dependency on costly imports and generate employment opportunities.
However, such support must come with strict conditions to ensure that affordability and quality are non-negotiable. Transparency is the cornerstone of trust. Drug pricing must be demystified through clear, publicly available information and robust oversight mechanisms. Without this, public suspicion will fester, and patients will continue to suffer silently and invisibly. Above all, we must change the conversation. This is not simply an economic or administrative challenge; it is a profound moral and social crisis. When the price of a pill exceeds the price of a meal, we betray the very social contract that binds us.
Allowing people to fall ill—or worse, die—because they cannot afford medicine is not just an unfortunate consequence. It is a stark failure of society and government. The price of inaction will be paid not in rupees, but in human lives. Each untreated fever, each skipped dose, each family pushed into despair is a mark of that failure. The time to act is now—before the silent catastrophe becomes a public tragedy that no one can ignore. If society is to live up to its highest ideals, it must ensure that healthcare and medicines remain a right, not a privilege. Only then can we say we have honored the dignity and worth of every individual, no matter their means.
(The writer is a journalist working with different tasks currently stationed in Balochistan, can be reached at news@metro-morning.com)
