Welcome to Praava Community

Meet Our Founder & CEO

Six years ago, my mother was hospitalized at one of Bangladesh’s top hospitals for a basic operation. We expected that the routine procedure would go smoothly, yet she suffered such dramatic complications that we nearly lost her. The most harrowing part of the experience was the doctor’s cavalier attitude. On my mother’s worst day, my sister and I desperately needed to understand why our mother was vomiting bile, but the doctor ignored our queries and walked out of the room. I distinctly remember chasing him up two flights of stairs to demand answers to our simple questions. His indifference to our mother’s suffering made us feel completely helpless. Eventually, our family had no choice but to take my mother to Bangkok, where she had a second surgery. A year later, she had to have a third surgery, all because of complications arising from the original operation.

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Operational Excellence: The Key To Affordable Healthcare in South Asia

Years ago, when I was in my late teens, my uncle was diagnosed with epilepsy – a chronic disorder characterized by seizures. Back in the day, most people weren’t aware of this condition and didn’t even know how to identify it. I was living in Hyderabad, India, where I am originally from, and witnessed the hardships that my uncle had to face along with my family in dealing with this disease. I can still remember taking him to several hospitals and neurologists across town. None could provide proper treatment or care required. At one point, my family members began giving him home remedy treatments, which we later found out had adverse effects on his health. After 10 years of desperately trying to get proper treatment, we finally found a competent neurologist who informed us that it was too late for a permanent cure, and we would have to manage his condition with high doses of medication.

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Bringing healthcare innovations to Bangladesh

My obsession with health, particularly mental health, began at a very young age. I was told that two of my maternal uncles and a cousin were pagols (mad people in Bangla). My relatives warned me that pagols can be dangerous so I should be vigilant, especially of my cousin who was locked up in a room for over 35 years. Sometime in my teens, both my uncles passed away within 3 months of each other. It was presumed that my older uncle passed away from shock and depression 3 months into the death of his younger brother. A few years later, my cousin passed away as well, thus ending an era of pagols in my family.

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