Kerala Health Minister Blames Vested Interests for Food‑Packet Row at Alappuzha Hospital

When Kerala’s Health Minister K. Muraleedharan was asked about the uproar surrounding the Democratic Youth Federation of India’s (DYFI) ‘pothichoru’ food‑packet drive at the Government Medical College Hospital (MCH) in Alappuzha, he didn’t exactly back‑track. Instead, he pointed a finger at the media, saying they had turned a routine comment into a “statewide issue”.

Muraleedharan, who had previously spoken against the practice of handing out free meals inside government hospitals, insists he never changed his mind. He argues that what people are hearing is a distorted narrative, cleverly spun by “certain vested interests” who feel threatened by the government’s latest move.

The crux of his argument? The hospital, despite having its own laboratory facilities, has been sending patients to two nearby private labs. Those labs, he says, are raking in “lakhs of rupees” in profit. By deciding to procure test reagents and keep diagnostics in‑house, the state allegedly upset a handful of players who stood to lose money.

It’s a classic – policy meets profit. The minister’s claim is that the fury over DYFI’s distribution of over 40,000 food packets daily across 60 government hospitals is actually a smokescreen, meant to distract from the real issue: the looming loss of private‑lab revenue.

The DYFI, for its part, has not minced words. After the minister’s remarks, the youth wing vowed to keep the food‑packet programme alive, calling the government’s stance “inhumane” and “politically motivated”. Their volunteers, seen handing out meals to patients and waiting relatives at the Alappuzha MCH, say the packets are a lifeline for many.

Meanwhile, opposition leaders and civil‑society groups have painted the minister’s statements as a “U‑turn”, accusing him of back‑pedalling on his earlier criticism of the scheme. They argue that the health department’s new focus on internal lab testing is a thinly veiled attempt to curb political activism under the guise of efficiency.

As the debate rages on, the Alappuzha hospital continues its routine – patients walk in for treatment, some are sent to private labs, and a line of volunteers hands out food packets. Whether the controversy will fade or flare up again seems to hinge on the next step the state takes regarding lab procurement and the political will to either tolerate or curb the “pothichoru” initiative.