By Hamna Iqbal Baig & Faisal Rehman
Updated July 2025
Karachi
As Pakistan’s summers grow hotter, longer, and more lethal, pregnant women in low-income neighborhoods like Lyari are paying an unbearable price. Inside sweltering concrete homes without ventilation or electricity, expectant mothers are losing pregnancies, often without medical warning and with little institutional support.
Samira, 29, lost her first baby at eight months in January. “The doctor said dehydration and heat may have caused it. I felt like I failed,” she shared, breaking into tears. Her fourth-floor apartment traps heat like an oven, turning daily life into a survival test.
Her case is far from isolated. A 2024 global meta-analysis found that extreme heat exposure increases the risk of stillbirth by 13%. In South Asia, the danger is compounded by poverty, weak infrastructure, and high humidity. For every 1°C rise in temperature, the risk of preterm birth climbs by 4%, according to researchers.
Nahida, 32, experienced early labor at eight months and 20 days in November 2024. Doctors at Jinnah Hospital rushed her into an emergency cesarean. “They said the heat stressed my body and affected the baby. I didn’t want to take any chances.”
Residents say power cuts lasting 10 to 12 hours daily mean no fans or air conditioning. “Even after sunset, the heat stays trapped inside,” said Sharmeen, who delivered alone in her bathroom after unexpected contractions.
Dr. Jaya Shreedhar, a Chennai-based doctor-journalist, said elevated body temperature can trigger contractions or miscarriage. “Heat raises fetal heart rate, reduces placental blood flow, and can cause dehydration that deprives the fetus of nutrients,” she explained.
The problem is structural too. Lyari’s urban design amplifies heat stress. Concrete buildings with poor airflow create a severe urban heat island (UHI) effect, affecting nearly a million people. Pregnant women, mostly housewives, absorb much of this heat while cooking or commuting to clinics via rickshaw.
Anita, 35, said the kitchen felt like a furnace. “I had to keep stepping out just to breathe. I lost appetite and became weak.” Faiza, who delivered a healthy baby in February 2025, still remembers the exhaustion and low blood pressure she faced. “I sat by the window and poured cold water on the floor just to sleep.”
Despite warnings from doctors during prenatal checkups, many women had no real way to cool down. They used wet cloths, took multiple showers, and drank lemon water—but the relief was fleeting.
Samreen, another mother, delivered safely in February but faced constant anxiety due to heat-induced fatigue and swelling. “Even light exertion left me breathless. The baby stopped moving on hot days. That terrified me.”
Pakistan’s public health system has yet to fully grasp or address heat stress as a maternal risk factor. While some doctors issue warnings, there is no national policy to protect pregnant women from rising temperatures.
As climate change accelerates and extreme weather becomes more frequent, vulnerable populations like pregnant women face growing, unspoken risks. Without targeted action, more mothers like Samira may be left mourning preventable losses.
