Extraordinary Indians: A. Sabeena, the Nurse who Braved the 2024 Wayanad Floods to Save Lives
Her viral rescue made headlines, but behind it lies a deeper story of courage, compassion and a woman who has spent her life showing up when others need her most.
In Gudalur, a quiet town nestled in the Nilgiri hills, there is an unspoken practice. When crisis strikes—when someone collapses, when pain becomes unbearable, when hope feels thin—the first call goes out to A. Sabeena.
The affable 41-year-old is a palliative nurse with the Shihab Thangal Centre for Humanity. But to her patients, she is simply ‘Sabeena sister’—a steady presence by the side of those critically ill and suffering. That same instinct to show up for those in need placed her at the heart of one of the region’s worst disasters on 30 July 2024.
That morning, 48 hours of torrential rains resulted in catastrophic landslides in Kerala’s Wayanad district, where at least 300 lives were lost and hundreds more displaced or injured. When Shihab’s Gudalur care unit was called on to help with the rescue efforts already under way, Sabeena joined in, anticipating a difficult day, no doubt. What followed however would be captured in a single viral video that she would later see on numerous news channels and social media feeds: herself, wrapped in rain gear, clutching a first-aid bag, ziplining through the heavy downpour high across a raging river to reach the injured who needed help.
Long before she climbed onto that cable, however, Sabeena had already crossed many precarious bridges. A single mother, she spent years stitching together livelihoods to support herself and her daughter. In 2017, Sabeena was working at a Life Insurance Corporation branch in Gudalur when her colleague, P.A. George, was diagnosed with cancer. Seeing his elderly...
In Gudalur, a quiet town nestled in the Nilgiri hills, there is an unspoken practice. When crisis strikes—when someone collapses, when pain becomes unbearable, when hope feels thin—the first call goes out to A. Sabeena.
The affable 41-year-old is a palliative nurse with the Shihab Thangal Centre for Humanity. But to her patients, she is simply ‘Sabeena sister’—a steady presence by the side of those critically ill and suffering. That same instinct to show up for those in need placed her at the heart of one of the region’s worst disasters on 30 July 2024.
That morning, 48 hours of torrential rains resulted in catastrophic landslides in Kerala’s Wayanad district, where at least 300 lives were lost and hundreds more displaced or injured. When Shihab’s Gudalur care unit was called on to help with the rescue efforts already under way, Sabeena joined in, anticipating a difficult day, no doubt. What followed however would be captured in a single viral video that she would later see on numerous news channels and social media feeds: herself, wrapped in rain gear, clutching a first-aid bag, ziplining through the heavy downpour high across a raging river to reach the injured who needed help.
Long before she climbed onto that cable, however, Sabeena had already crossed many precarious bridges. A single mother, she spent years stitching together livelihoods to support herself and her daughter. In 2017, Sabeena was working at a Life Insurance Corporation branch in Gudalur when her colleague, P.A. George, was diagnosed with cancer. Seeing his elderly sister struggle to care for him, she stepped in. After his death, her colleagues suggested she train as a nurse. It seemed like she had found her calling. “So I did,” says Sabeena.
Back in Wayanad, chaos greeted the Shihab team when they reached Chooralmala, one of villages hit hard by the landslides. “The place was filled with what looked like thousands of people, rescue workers and the public, helping survivors and retrieving the dead. Someone shouted that rocks were falling,” Sabeena recounts. Panic ensued; everyone ran. It was a false alarm but the situation was clearly dangerous. “But how could we just turn back?” Sabeena says. She insisted that the team move to the affected areas near the river between Chooralmala and the next village Mundakkai, where they could still be useful.
But more trouble lay ahead. A bridge connecting the two areas was gone—reduced to debris. Rescue teams jerryrigged a zipline, anchored to a JCB machine to get across. From across the chasm, Sabeena could see people waiting on the other side—bleeding, terrified, stranded.
When Sabeena volunteered to offer medical aid, she was turned down. It was too risky for a woman. “They refused to strap me in,” she recalls. “So I began strapping myself.” Alarmed, and sensing her resolve, the rescuers helped her harness correctly.
Strong gusts of wind made the cable sway as Sabeena inched forward with her feet dangling above the gushing river. “I was scared, but mostly that my first-aid bag would slip out of my hands. My supervisor told me not to look down. But, of course, I did, reflexively, and almost lost my grip! Somehow I held on,” she describes.
After managing to land in Mundakkai, Sabeena got to work—taking vitals, dressing wounds, comforting the anxious and helping people zipline over to Chooralmala. Babies were sent in baskets she padded with cotton and gauze. Each arduous crossing took 20 minutes. By nightfall, she had personally treated and helped rescue 35 people.
The next day her supervisor’s video of her crossing was picked up by the media. “My daughter said the line could have snapped,” Sabeena laughs softly. “Only while watching the video did I understand how dangerous it was.”
A year on, the harrowing memories remain—jeeps filled with bodies, gruesome injuries. “I treated two teenage boys, possibly in shock, who didn’t make a sound even as their skin peeled from their backs when I removed their shirts. They didn’t cry,” Sabeena says. “That silence still stays with me.” Social media tributes and in memoriam posts are another trigger. “I remember some of their faces,” she says. Sabeena hasn’t returned to Wayanad since.
For her bravery, the Tamil Nadu government honoured her with the Kalpana Chawla Award for Courage and Daring Enterprise. When asked about the recognition, she smiles wryly: “I’m glad, but there were so many others who came to the rescue also. I just lent them a hand.”
For more stories like these, click here.