Two ambulance drivers from Kottayam, Kerala, recently undertook a daring trip braving unfamiliar roads, forest tracks, extortion attempts, and police harassment. They transported a bedridden migrant worker all the way to Nepal, covering more than 3,500 km in just three days.

The call came on June 13 to the Abhaya Emergency Service based in Kodimatha, Kottayam. A rubber factory in Kanjirappally, where the patient had worked, sought help to take 45-year-old Ganesh Bahadur back to his village in Nepal. Ganesh had collapsed at work following a cardiac arrest on May 24 and had been hospitalised in a private facility in Pala ever since. After surgery and weeks of care, he remained bedridden, and his return home had to be arranged via ambulance.

Abhaya’s drivers, Sajimon and Shaiju, took charge, reaching the hospital by evening and beginning the journey without delay. “We had one goal — to reach as quickly as possible. We stopped only to refuel, eat, or feed the patient on a feeding tube. While one of us drove, the other rested,” says Shaiju. Accompanying Ganesh were his son, Jamu, and a neighbour from Nepal. “His son didn’t speak Hindi, but the neighbour did. So all our coordination was through him,” Shaiju adds.

Though both drivers had experience travelling across states — Odisha, Bihar, Assam, Karnataka, West Bengal and more — this was their first time driving beyond Indian borders. And the road ahead proved tougher than anticipated. In Uttar Pradesh, police stopped them late at night. “Even with our siren on and a patient in the vehicle, they made us wait and asked for names, IDs, and even our fathers’ names. It seemed like they were trying to figure out our religion,” recalls Shaiju. In Maharashtra, police demanded ₹7,500 to let them pass. “We gave them ₹500 and moved on. There was no time for arguments,” he says.

A more threatening encounter unfolded again in UP when their ambulance slightly brushed past another vehicle. “We spoke to the driver, cleaned the minor stain, and continued. But soon after, the same vehicle and a group of men stopped us, blocked the road, and demanded money. One even snatched our vehicle key,” says Shaiju. As tensions rose, they turned on the siren to draw attention. Locals intervened when they realised a patient was inside, and the group backed off.

As they neared the Indo-Nepal border, locals advised them to avoid a specific forest route notorious for night-time robberies. “We took a safer route, even though it meant travelling 50 km extra,” says Shaiju.

They crossed into Nepal on the morning of June 16, but the journey was far from over. “The last 250 km to Baruwa village was the most difficult stretch. Around 70 km was through dense forest where new roads were being laid. It took us seven hours to navigate that stretch, mostly in first gear,” he recalls.

They reached their destination by evening. Ganesh’s family — including his parents, wife, daughter, and neighbours — received them with folded hands and heartfelt gratitude. “It was deeply emotional,” says Shaiju. A surprise awaited them too — a local man who spoke Malayalam fluently. “He had worked in Kerala for years and now lived in the village. He helped us communicate and stayed with us during our brief halt.”

The drivers stayed for only four hours — enough time to eat, bathe, and rest briefly. “The family wanted us to stay the night, but we had to return immediately. The roads were tough, and we had another long drive ahead,” says Shaiju.

They reached Kottayam by June 20 morning. “The heat outside Kerala was unbearable. We left in the rain and saw the next shower only once we returned. Thankfully, the highways across India are mostly in good condition, which helped us maintain pace,” he says.

Ganesh’s son and the neighbour had taken nearly five days to reach Kerala earlier — by road and train. The return journey, however, was compressed because of Ganesh’s fragile condition. The trip cost around ₹2 lakh, which the factory agreed to cover. “We’ve helped them before too, mostly transporting the bodies of migrant workers who died here. Many don’t have documents required for airlifting, so we drive them home,” says Sajimon.

When transporting live patients, they only take those stable enough to endure long-distance travel, but are prepared for emergencies. “If anything goes wrong, we’re trained to respond and shift the patient to the nearest hospital. That’s why, in such cases, road travel is often safer than a flight — there’s immediate access to care if needed,” says Shaiju.