Is there a healthcare crisis in Assam, which we have refused to acknowledge because of some "factors" that should be avoided but we have denied avoiding it? Is "all is well" in Assam's health sector or the reality is different than what the eyes meet?

Every election season and budget session in Assam comes with a well-rehearsed symphony: politicians boasting about the state’s tremendous strides in healthcare. The script is predictable—new hospitals, new ambulances, improved rural outreach, better infrastructure, and “never-before-seen” investments.

Yet, away from the self-congratulatory speeches and ribbon-cutting ceremonies, the reality for the common Assamese citizen tells a completely different tale—a bleak, frustrating, and at times dangerous one.

Let us not sugar-coat it any further. Assam’s healthcare sector, despite all the noise about “development,” remains woefully inadequate for the needs of its people.

The most damning proof of this failure is visible in the one place politicians least expect us to look: their own actions. While they shout from rooftops about Assam’s medical transformation, they quietly book flights to Chennai, Hyderabad, or Delhi when their own family members fall ill.

Why?

If the healthcare infrastructure in Assam is as “world-class” as the government would have us believe, why do ministers and MLAs routinely seek treatment outside the state? Why are private hospitals in South India the first destination for medical emergencies involving the political elite? Why do we so often hear of top bureaucrats receiving routine surgeries, cancer treatments, or even regular check-ups at institutions outside Assam?

This is not a coincidence. This is not an exception. This is a pattern—a loud, damning indictment of a system that is broken at its core, no matter how much paint you apply to its crumbling walls.

A Two-Tier System: One For The Powerful, Another For The People

There exists a healthcare apartheid in Assam. One tier, hidden behind privilege and political power, allows the elite to access the best medical care India has to offer—often at taxpayer expense.

The other tier, where the common man resides, is a world of never-ending queues, malfunctioning machines, missing specialists, apathetic staff, and overcrowded hospital wards.

This is not hyperbole; this is the everyday reality for millions in our state.

Visit any district hospital in Assam and you will see the truth unfold before your eyes. Women in labour are often forced to wait due to a lack of available beds.

Cancer patients line up for chemotherapy in ageing facilities with overworked oncologists. Ultrasound and MRI appointments are delayed by weeks due to broken machines or a lack of technicians.

Life-saving surgeries are postponed because of the non-availability of anaesthetists. Is this the "health revolution" we are supposed to applaud?

Meanwhile, politicians and bureaucrats bypass these broken institutions entirely. They do not wait. They do not worry about long lines or missing equipment. They simply call their liaison officers, get a referral, and board the next flight to Delhi or Hyderabad or Chennai or Mumbai.

Paid for, in many cases, by the same public funds that could have been used to fix a leaking roof in a rural health centre or to hire one more paediatrician in a government hospital.

Why Is No One Held Accountable?

Where is the accountability? Why is no government ever held to task over the state of our healthcare system? Why do media headlines focus more on announcements than outcomes?

The public deserves answers. Because when ministers proudly post pictures of new hospital buildings on social media, they rarely mention whether these facilities have functioning ICUs, full-time specialists, adequate staff, or modern diagnostics.

The obsession is with quantity—how many hospitals, how many crores, how many ambulances—not with quality, sustainability, or impact.

It is easy to build hospitals. It is much harder to make them work.

A new structure with a gleaming facade is useless if it lacks trained personnel, essential drugs, or maintenance support. And let us be clear: patients are not statistics.

When a child dies due to delayed diagnosis or when a diabetic patient loses a limb due to lack of timely care, these are not unfortunate outliers—they are victims of a system that has been neglected for decades, wrapped in slogans instead of solutions.

The Missed Opportunity Called Medical Tourism

Ironically, Assam is uniquely positioned to become a medical tourism hub in Eastern India. With its lush greenery, moderate climate, and slower pace of life, it is far more conducive to healing than the sweltering heat and congestion of Chennai or Hyderabad.

Assam shares borders with six north-eastern states and even shares international frontiers with Bangladesh—ideal conditions for cross-border healthcare service delivery. But this opportunity has been squandered.

Instead of investing in high-quality, specialised institutions that could serve not only our population but also neighbouring regions, we are stuck building basic blocks of primary care. Important, yes—but hardly sufficient if we want to call ourselves a healthcare destination.

Without systemic change, no number of eye-catching hospital buildings or hollow PR campaigns will alter Assam’s standing.

We need real reform: transparent budgets, recruitment of skilled personnel, upskilling of existing staff, investment in medical education, and a ruthless focus on accountability.

Ministers Must Lead By Example

Here is a radical idea—let ministers and MLAs pledge not to go outside Assam for medical treatment during their tenure. Let them commit to using the same hospitals they expect the people to use. If our leaders have faith in the systems they build, then let them prove it.

Imagine the ripple effect this would create. Imagine the urgency that would suddenly arise to improve our hospitals if those in power had to rely on them personally. Imagine the empathy that would return to our policy-making if those who designed systems had to endure them themselves.

It is time to stop applauding mediocrity and start demanding excellence. It is time to stop tolerating token gestures and begin asking difficult questions.

Why are rural health centres still without electricity in 2025? Why are there only a handful of oncologists in the public sector across the entire state? Why do medical colleges struggle to fill faculty posts while thousands of young doctors remain underutilised?

Most of all, why are our leaders running away from the very institutions they built?

The Public Must Wake Up

Assam’s healthcare crisis will not fix itself. It requires sustained public pressure, media scrutiny, and civil society activism. It requires voters to ask tough questions at every rally, every press conference, and every budget speech. Development is not about numbers. It is about outcomes. It is about the lives saved, the pain eased, and the trust earned.

Healthcare is not a favour; it is a fundamental right. It is high time our elected representatives stop treating it as a photo opportunity. And it is high time we stop letting them.

Let them be reminded: A true leader does not board a flight to Chennai when their people are dying waiting for an ambulance.

Have you or someone you know faced medical neglect in Assam? Share your story with us in the comments. Let's make this issue impossible to ignore.

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