As Salam Alaikum. Venting here because I have no one to talk with. ometimes I look around and wonder if there is any corner of this world that truly cares about patients anymore… any place where human suffering actually matters. Watching my mother in pain breaks something inside me every single day. And living in Bahrain as a South Asian family, it feels like we are invisible, like our lives only matter when money is on the table. Every door asks for payment, every solution depends on insurance we don’t even have and it's Haram. It feels like compassion has a price tag, and we simply can’t afford it.
I see my mother hurting, and I feel utterly powerless. I try to be strong for her, but my own body is tired, my mind is shaking under the weight of anxiety, and sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m standing anymore. I keep thinking, what kind of daughter am I if I can’t protect her? She deserves comfort, she deserves peace, and instead she gets procedures, bills, delays, and discomfort, and I just sit there, watching, praying, wishing I could do more.
It hurts to realize how the world bows to money. If you’re rich, hospitals open their arms wide for you. You can buy comfort, buy kindness, buy the treatment you need. But if you’re poor or foreign, suddenly your pain doesn’t matter. You stand in line. You beg. You wait. You break inside while they count the notes in your hand.
Wallahi, sometimes my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. I ask Allah to witness everything, the neglect, the injustice, the coldness. And I pray that every healthcare worker who ignores a patient’s suffering, who prioritizes money over mercy, will be held accountable by the One who sees everything.
I ask Allah to grant me halal wealth, not for luxury, not for dunya, but so I can take care of my parents the way they deserve, and so I can help the ones who are forgotten, the ones who suffer silently the way my mother is suffering now. Right now that dream feels far, like a distant light I can barely touch, but I still hold on to it with whatever strength I have left.
This world is short. These trials feel endless, but they are temporary. Jannah is our true home, yet sometimes my soul feels so exhausted, so heavy, like it just can’t carry any more pain. But I keep praying, because that’s the only thing holding me together.
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