Zulekha’s Choice: When Healing Becomes a Transaction
In South Asia, trust in doctors can come at a high cost — sometimes, too high.

Zulekha had always been a woman of quiet dignity.
At 56, she carried herself with grace — a widow living alone in a two-room home in Lahore, supported only by a small government pension and the occasional kindness of neighbors. Her husband had passed away a decade earlier, and her two sons had moved abroad, caught up in their own lives.
One humid afternoon, fatigue clung to her like the air — tight, heavy, unshakable. She felt her breath shorten during simple tasks. Her neighbor suggested she see the doctor at a nearby private clinic.
“It’s clean,” the neighbor said. “And the doctor listens.”
So Zulekha went.
She wore her best dupatta and clutched her purse with a trembling hand. The waiting area was calm, the air cool, and the doctor greeted her with a professional smile. He examined her gently, asked a few questions, and scribbled notes on a slip.
“You’ll need some blood work,” he said. “The lab across the street is good. And these medicines should help.” He circled the lab’s name with blue ink, then handed the prescription over.
Zulekha nodded, trusting.
She had no idea that this would mark the start of something far more costly than she imagined — not just in rupees, but in faith.
The Cost of Trust
At the lab, the technician barely glanced at her before announcing the total for the tests — an amount that made Zulekha’s knees weaken. It was nearly double what she had expected. Still, she handed over the cash.
At the pharmacy — the one the doctor had recommended — the bill for the medication was equally steep. But again, Zulekha didn’t ask questions. She was raised to believe that health is priceless, that doctors know best.
By the time she reached home, her entire month’s pension was gone.
No diagnosis. No treatment plan. No follow-up.
Just paper slips, unanswered questions, and an aching feeling in her chest — not from illness, but from realization.
The Hidden Economy of Healing
What Zulekha didn’t know — and what millions of people across South Asia quietly endure — is that behind the curtain of clinics and labs, a silent transaction unfolds.
Doctors refer patients to specific labs and pharmacies not always because of quality — but because of commission.
It’s a system built on:
Profit-sharing between clinics, labs, and chemists. Unnecessary lab tests ordered not for health but for payout. Overpriced or low-grade medications prescribed for higher margins. Patients unknowingly footing the bill for someone else’s bonus. This isn’t always the result of evil intent. Many healthcare workers face low pay, zero oversight, and competitive pressure to “partner” with labs or pharmacies. But the outcome is the same:
Patients lose.
Not All Wear White Coats for the Same Reasons
Of course, not all doctors play this game.
Some:
Suggest cheaper, government-run labs
Warn patients against overpriced pharmacies
Even treat poor patients for free when needed
These silent heroes exist — and they deserve celebration. But they’re often overshadowed by a system where healing is secondary to hustle.
What Can We Learn from Zulekha’s Story?
Awareness is the first step toward protection.
✅ Ask if there are alternative labs or pharmacies.
✅ Compare prices when filling prescriptions.
✅ Research certified, ethical healthcare providers.
✅ Question excessive or repetitive tests.
And most importantly, speak up. If you’ve experienced a similar issue, your story can save someone else from the same fate.
Zulekha’s Quiet Revolution
Zulekha may never know the full truth of what happened that day. But her experience speaks volumes. Her story isn’t rare — it’s repeated in thousands of homes across Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, and beyond.
When a patient becomes a price tag, the soul of healthcare is lost.
But when we shine a light on the cracks — when we talk, write, question, and share — change becomes possible.
Let’s honor Zulekha and the millions like her by demanding a future where:
A prescription means healing, not profit
A test means truth, not commission
A clinic offers care, not transactions
Because health is not a business. It is a right.
And dignity should never come with a receipt.
💬 Call to Action:
If this story moved you, share it. If you’ve been there, speak up. Let's raise our voices — and protect the vulnerable from becoming prey in the name of care.
About the Creator
Shehzad Anjum
I’m Shehzad Khan, a proud Pashtun 🏔️, living with faith and purpose 🌙. Guided by the Qur'an & Sunnah 📖, I share stories that inspire ✨, uplift 🔥, and spread positivity 🌱. Join me on this meaningful journey 👣



Comments (1)
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