Saudi-funded floating hospitals to bring healthcare to rural Bangladesh

The first two Bangladeshi hospital ships funded by the Islamic Development Bank are seen at the Narayanganj Engineering and Shipbuilding dockyard near the Bangladeshi capital in March 2020. (Friendship NGO)
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Updated 14 March 2023
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Saudi-funded floating hospitals to bring healthcare to rural Bangladesh

  • Five ships will use Bangladeshi river networks to provide medical aid to impoverished communities
  • First two vessels are ready and due to be launched by June, hospital operator says

DHAKA: Five Saudi-funded floating hospitals will bring healthcare to tens of thousands of patients in remote areas of Bangladesh, with their operator expecting the first two vessels to be launched shortly after Ramadan.
Bangladesh occupies the world’s largest delta, and a third of the country is under water most of the time. Devastating storms often form over the Bay of Bengal and flood the country’s south, leaving many regions accessible only by river.
Few of these rural areas have medical facilities and the five hospital ships, all named after King Abdullah and funded by the Islamic Development Bank, will traverse the waterways of Bangladesh to provide healthcare to impoverished communities.
Under a 2017 agreement signed by the bank and the Bangladeshi Directorate General of Health Services, the floating hospitals will be initially operated by Friendship, an NGO that has been running hospital ships in Bangladesh for over two decades. After that, the vessels will be handed over to health authorities.
“It’s a tripartite project,” Dr. Sheikh Daud Adnan, head of hospitals at the health directorate, told Arab News.
“The project is for five years, and during this time the ships will run under the supervision of Friendship. After five years, the ships will be handed over to the directorate.”
The cost of building the ships and the first five years of operation is about $20 million. Two of the vessels are already complete and ready to sail, pending registration with Bangladeshi authorities, which Friendship expects to be finalized soon after Ramadan.
“Our people are ready and we have already trained our staff. Everything is ready. I hope the first two ships will float by June or even before,” Runa Khan, the NGO’s executive director, said.
“All the ships will be named after King Abdullah. They will run as King Abdullah Friendship Hospital 1-5.”
The vessels have been built in the Narayanganj shipyard, about 20 km from the Bangladeshi capital Dhaka.
The biggest ship, King Abdullah Hospital 1, is 31 meters long, and has an operating theater for general surgical operations and a separate theater for eye surgery. The other four ships will be 25 meters long, and will provide primary healthcare and minor operative procedures.
The hospital ships lwill run on the Padma River, the Meghna River in the northeastern district of Sunamganj, and in the southeastern regions of Hatiya.
Each ship will have up to 30 crew — more than half of them medical professionals, and the rest responsible for running the vessels and administration. During the duty period, all will stay on board in their residential cabins.
Each ship will anchor in a particular location for two-and-a-half months. The hospital crew will have a database of patients prepared in advance by paramedics on the ground, Khan said.
“In order to maintain a smooth follow-up and registration, we have community medics or satellite clinics at every location where the ships will anchor..
“These are all mobile clinics. Every month, we conduct mobile clinic services where paramedics attend to the patients. The paramedics refer the patients to our ship hospitals if they can’t treat them. This is how we have the database of the patients to be treated before the ship reaches the particular area,” Khan said.
She estimated that each hospital ship, supported by the mobile clinics, will treat up to 350,000 people every month.
Services will be almost free of charge, as the ships will visit areas lacking medical facilities and where many cannot afford the journey to access proper healthcare.
“We do this almost free of cost. The charge is within 10 US cents,” Khan said.
“They can’t go to healthcare facilities. Healthcare has to reach them. With the river system, we can reach these people easily.”


Ministry of Culture-backed incubator helped Jeddah local create her first graphic novel

Saudi visual storyteller Noura Alashwali’s debut graphic novel began as a way to process grief in private. (Supplied)
Updated 04 January 2026
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Ministry of Culture-backed incubator helped Jeddah local create her first graphic novel

  • ‘I feel seen,’ says Saudi storyteller Noura Alashwali

JEDDAH: Visual storyteller Noura Alashwali is one of a generation of Saudi artists whose personal journeys mirror the Kingdom’s cultural transformation, meaning their creative impulses are increasingly backed by public institutions and have an audience ready to listen.

“Creative expression was never just a hobby for me; it was a need,” Alashwali, 37, told Arab News. “From a young age, whether through writing or drawing, creativity felt like a part of who I was. And it still is.”

It was her education at Dar Al-Hekma University, where she obtained a degree in graphic design, that gave structure and language to an instinct she had carried since childhood. 

Saudi visual storyteller Noura Alashwali’s debut graphic novel began as a way to process grief in private. (Supplied)

“My earliest memory of drawing with pen and paper is when I was four years old, and I still have those drawings,” she said. Like many artists, she experimented with various mediums as she grew older. Eventually, she found her way to a Saudi art center that she described as “a very popular and wonderful place to learn art.”

At university, Alashwali’s work turned digital. “When I learned about the major, I immediately felt that I belonged. Graphic design is about visual communication. It’s not just about creating art, but about communicating ideas, thoughts, and stories.”

Those ideas would take on a personal weight in 2023 with “Deema and the Old Letters,” her debut graphic novel.

When an idea comes to me (now), I take it more seriously. I honor it and commit to it. I say, ‘Thank you for choosing me. I’m going do my best to manifest you.’

Noura Alashwali, Saudi storyteller

“It was a way for me to process my grief after my mother passed away in 2023,” Alashwali explained. “I was simply writing and drawing while processing very heavy emotions.” 

Noura Alashwali's creativity was supported by the Literature, Publishing and Translation Commission's Authors’ Incubator Program in 2024. (Supplied)

What transformed that intimate archive into a published work was institutional support. In early 2024, Alashwali came across an open call from the Ministry of Culture’s Literature, Publishing and Translation Commission for its Authors’ Incubator program. 

The inclusion of graphic novels and comics among the supported genres caught her attention. She assembled her materials into a PDF, applied, and was accepted.

For the six-month Riyadh-based program she was paired with a mentor, Dr. Hanan Al-Ghadi from Princess Nourah University, and supported logistically. By November 2024, she had signed with Rashm, a publishing house collaborating with the commission.

Alashwali contrasts the protagonist’s depression with the warmth of Jeddahwi landscapes. (Supplied)

Beyond the mentorship and funding, the experience reshaped her sense of self.

“It felt like a dream. Because of institutional support from the Ministry of Culture, I feel validated. I feel seen,” she said. “It encouraged me to take my practice seriously — not just as self-expression, but as something that contributes to the Saudi cultural scene.”

Initiatives such as the incubator program do not merely teach skills; they signal that deeply personal stories of grief, love and memory have a place in the public cultural sphere.

Alashwali contrasts the protagonist’s depression with the warmth of Jeddahwi landscapes. (Supplied)

While Alashwali hopes her work will be translated into English, publishing in Arabic for Saudi readers was the natural choice. “It’s great to contribute to the local scene with an Arabic graphic novel,” she said.

“Deema and the Old Letters” traces a young woman’s journey through pain and grief, using moonlit symbolism and visual poetry to explore art as a means of self-discovery and healing.

“I wanted it to feel intimate and personal. So ‘Deema’ is also designed like a journal,” Alashwali noted.

The protagonist’s depression is juxtaposed with the warmth of Jeddahwi landscapes. 

“Jeddah is home. And when you are home, you’re being your most authentic self,” Alashwali said. “It’s a very kind and happy city; very welcoming and down-to-earth.”

The literature commission’s incubator also expanded Alashwali’s creative world, connecting her to artists from across the Kingdom, including Riyadh, Baha, and the Eastern Province. 

“We have lots of beautiful cultures and stories in Saudi Arabia,” she said. “I have developed close friendships which contributed to my creative practice and personal growth.”

This sense of cross-regional exchange reflects a shift: Artists who once worked in silos are now being given room to meet, collaborate and be heard. 

“What I enjoy most about being a storyteller in Saudi Arabia is that the scene is still fresh. People notice new work and genuinely connect with it,” Alashwali said. “It doesn’t feel overcrowded and overwhelming.”

Besides the literature commission, she has worked with the Visual Arts Commission and the Heritage Commission, including a workshop on creating eyeglass frames using Saudi craft techniques, created in collaboration with Italian gallery Moi Aussi and the Saudi Artisanal Company. 

At Hayy Jameel in December, as part of the three-day “Soul of Palestine” program, Alashwali led a visual storytelling workshop where participants created digital illustrations to celebrate Palestinian heritage and culture.

Earlier in 2025, she participated in the Jeddah Book Fair and the Riyadh International Book Fair. In Jeddah, she worked with younger audiences on transforming emotions into short comics. In Riyadh, the focus shifted to books and artistic practice. 

Across these settings, her metric for success remains emotional rather than technical. “It’s when I feel the participants have opened their hearts and try to transform their emotions into a comic, regardless of the drawing skills,” she explained.

Alashwali’s next project is inspired by conversations with her five-year-old daughter. “One day, after smelling a vanilla perfume she loves, she told me: ‘Mama, I think this is the smell of my heart.’ She believed it completely,” she said. “That idea stayed with me — the thought that the world might be kinder if we could smell hearts. So, the project will take the form of a directory of heart scents.”

Her plans for 2026 are modest. “I hope to dedicate more time and energy to my art,” she said. “If that doesn’t happen, publishing my next book will be enough.”

Underpinning it all is a philosophy she returns to — one espoused in one of her favorite books, “Big Magic,” in which Elizabeth Gilbert writes about ideas as living entities searching for someone to bring them into the world.

“As a Muslim, I believe these ideas are created by God,” said Alashwali. “When an idea comes to me now, I take it more seriously. I honor it and commit to it. I say, ‘Thank you for choosing me. I’m going do my best to manifest you.’”