27 children had never been vaccinated before—outside the system entirely
In the high mountain valleys of Upper Kohistan, where geography has long functioned as a barrier between children and the most basic protections modern medicine offers, three vaccination camps arrived this spring to close a gap that distance had kept open. Health workers from HUJRA Village Support Organisation, the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Health Department, and Gavi immunized 127 children — among them 27 who had never received a single routine vaccine — while also treating patients and holding awareness sessions to address the mistrust that isolation tends to cultivate. The effort is a reminder that the reach of a healthcare system is not measured only by its institutions, but by whether it can find the children who have never yet been found.
- In communities where reaching a clinic can mean days of difficult travel, 27 children had passed through infancy entirely outside the vaccination system — zero-dose children, invisible to the routines that protect urban kids almost automatically.
- Three camps at Sachoi, Thoki, and Gujjar Bond brought not just vaccines but screenings, free medicines, deworming tablets, and supplements to 98 patients in one of Pakistan's most medically underserved regions.
- Around 20 awareness sessions ran alongside the medical work, confronting the myths and hesitations that accumulate in places where health information arrives rarely and distrust fills the silence.
- Parents brought their children, caregivers attended sessions, and local residents told officials afterward that something real had shifted — not solved, but shifted — in their relationship to healthcare.
- The initiative now faces its defining question: whether these camps mark a sustained strategy to reach hard-to-access populations, or whether they will remain a single, unrepeated gesture toward the mountains.
High in the mountains of Upper Kohistan, east of Komila Bazaar, three vaccination camps opened this spring in the Gabar Nala region — at Sachoi, Thoki, and Gujjar Bond. Organized by the HUJRA Village Support Organisation alongside the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Health Department and Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance, the camps brought routine immunization to families scattered across terrain where the distance between a child and a doctor is measured not in kilometers but in days.
Dr. Munib, who led the effort, knew the numbers would tell only part of the story. Health workers vaccinated 127 children in total, but the figure that carried the most weight was smaller: 27 of those children had never received any vaccine before. These zero-dose children had fallen entirely outside the system that protects children elsewhere almost without notice. For them, the camps were a first encounter with prevention — a first real chance against measles and the diseases that take hold where immunization has not.
The camps did more than vaccinate. Workers screened 98 patients for fever, diarrhea, and skin infections, distributing free medicines, deworming tablets, iron and folic acid supplements, and oral rehydration salts. Some 20 awareness sessions ran alongside the medical work, addressing the myths that persist in communities where health information travels slowly and trust must be built before a needle is accepted.
The response was telling. Parents came. Caregivers listened. Residents told health officials afterward that something had genuinely changed — not the underlying geography, but their access to care within it. The initiative pointed toward a broader strategy: take immunization into the hard-to-reach places, reduce the risk of outbreaks among vulnerable populations. Whether these three camps prove to be a beginning or a single effort now stands as the question the mountains are waiting to have answered.
High in the mountains east of Komila Bazaar, where the Karakoram Highway gives way to terrain that makes reaching a doctor feel like an expedition, three vaccination camps opened their doors this spring. The sites—at Sachoi, Thoki, and Gujjar Bond in the Gabar Nala region of Upper Kohistan—brought needles, medicine, and medical attention to families scattered across some of Pakistan's most isolated geography, where the distance between a child and routine healthcare can be measured not just in kilometers but in days of difficult travel.
The camps were organized by the HUJRA Village Support Organisation, working alongside the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Health Department and Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance. Dr Munib, who led the effort, understood what the numbers alone could not convey: that in these dispersed mountain communities, the standard immunisation schedule—the one that protects children in cities almost without notice—had simply never reached many families. The geography that defines Upper Kohistan also isolates it. Rugged terrain and sparse infrastructure mean that basic health services exist more as concept than reality for many residents.
Over the course of the campaign, health workers vaccinated 127 children in total. But the figure that mattered most was nested inside it: 27 of those children had never received any routine immunisation before. These were zero-dose children, a term epidemiologists use for kids who have fallen entirely outside the vaccination system. For them, the camps represented a first real chance at protection against measles and the other diseases that kill or disable children in places where prevention is not yet routine. The workers followed the national immunisation schedule, moving through the age groups and conditions that matter: children under five, pregnant women, the vulnerable populations that disease outbreaks hit hardest.
The camps did more than vaccinate. Health workers screened 98 patients for common ailments—fever, diarrhoea, skin infections—and provided treatment on the spot. They distributed deworming tablets, iron and folic acid supplements for pregnant women, and oral rehydration salts, all free. Around 20 awareness sessions ran alongside the medical work, and they were necessary. In communities where medical information travels slowly and myths about vaccination persist, someone had to explain why these injections mattered, had to answer the questions parents asked, had to build the trust that turns hesitation into participation.
The response surprised no one who understood the need. Parents brought their children. Caregivers attended the sessions. The isolation that had kept these families from healthcare also meant they had been waiting for it, and when it arrived, they recognized it. Local residents told health officials afterward that the camps had changed something real about their access to medicine—not solved it, but changed it. The camps represented an acknowledgment that immunisation coverage in Pakistan has a geography, that some children are harder to reach than others, and that reaching them requires going to where they are.
For health officials, the initiative signaled a strategy: expand routine immunisation into the hard-to-reach places, reduce the risk that disease outbreaks take hold in vulnerable populations. The mountains of Upper Kohistan will not become easy to access. But 127 children, including 27 who had never been vaccinated before, now carry protection they did not have. The question now is whether this was a beginning or an isolated effort—whether the camps will return, whether the system will find ways to sustain what was started in those three remote sites.
Notable Quotes
The camps represented an important effort to expand routine immunisation coverage in hard-to-reach communities and reduce the risk of disease outbreaks among vulnerable populations.— Health officials
Local residents said the initiative had improved access to healthcare services in an area where medical facilities remain difficult to reach.— Gabar Nala residents
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that 27 of the 127 children had never been vaccinated before?
Because it means they were completely outside the system. Not behind on their schedule—outside it entirely. In a place where disease spreads easily and medical help is far away, that's the difference between a child who has some protection and one who has none.
What made these communities so hard to reach before?
Geography, mainly. The terrain is rugged, the settlements are scattered across mountains, and the infrastructure just isn't there. A vaccination clinic in Peshawar is useless if you live three days' walk away.
Did people actually want the vaccines, or did the health workers have to convince them?
Both. The awareness sessions suggest there was skepticism—myths about vaccination exist everywhere, even in remote places. But the turnout shows that once people understood what was being offered, they wanted it. Parents brought their children.
What happens now? Do the camps stay?
That's the real question. The camps were an initiative, a response to a gap. Whether they become permanent, whether the system finds a way to sustain regular access to these communities—that's what determines whether this was a beginning or a one-time effort.
What would success look like?
If those 27 zero-dose children stay vaccinated, if their younger siblings get vaccinated on schedule, if the next outbreak doesn't hit these communities as hard as it would have. And if the camps come back.