The sun hung low over the dusty path as Rafiya trudged forward, the weight of the sack digging into her shoulder. Her breath came in short gasps, each step heavier than the last. Just as she reached the bend near the old pine tree, a sharp, searing pain tore through her abdomen. She staggered, her vision blurring, and with a strangled cry, collapsed onto the ground. The sack tumbled beside her, spilling grain into the dirt, but Rafiya could only clutch her stomach, a wail escaping her lips as the world spun around her.

Rafiya, a 38-year-old woman, lived with her husband and four children on the outskirts of Anantnag district, where life moved with the rhythm of hardship and quiet endurance. She had never known ease. Her husband, Salim, worked odd jobs; hauling bricks or running errands for wealthier villagers. Their small home had known no facilities, and only one working bulb powered by a solar panel donated by a local NGO. They lived mostly on rice, lentils, and the few vegetables they could grow in their patch of land.

The pain started as a dull ache in her lower abdomen. She ignored it at first. She had to. There were children to feed, floors to sweep, and firewood to gather. But the pain grew, and soon, it took her breath away when she stood too long. Unexplained and frequent.

Her husband borrowed 900 rupees, two days’ wages, to take her on a bus to the nearest government hospital, 40 kilometres away.

The doctor listened quietly as Rafiya recounted her symptoms, her voice strained with fatigue. After a brief five-minute examination, his brow furrowed. Without wasting time, he ordered a battery of tests — bloodwork, ultrasounds, and........

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