They died as flames ravaged a Covid-19 isolation unit in southern Iraq. On Tuesday, blankets covered the remains of many of the 64 victims in the country's latest tragedy.

The colourful blankets strewn across the blackened debris of the temporary quarantine facility at Al-Hussein Hospital in Nasiriyah were the last tangible markers of those who died.

The aftermath of the fire that killed 64 people at a Covid isolation unit at Nasiriyah in southern Iraq on July 12, 2021
The aftermath of the fire that killed 64 people at a Covid isolation unit at Nasiriyah in southern Iraq on July 12, 2021 AFPTV / Asaad NIAZI

Uday al-Jaberi lost four relatives in the Monday inferno caused by oxygen canisters exploding.

"I want to send a message to those who committed a crime in Nasiriyah and against our martyred families yesterday: haven't you had enough of Nasiriyah's blood?" he pleaded.

The raging fire was Iraq's second in three months, eerily similar to an April blaze at a Baghdad hospital for Covid patients in which 82 people were killed and scores injured.

Iraqis carry coffins in Najaf on July 13, 2021 of relatives killed in a hospital fire in the city of Nasiriyah
Iraqis carry coffins in Najaf on July 13, 2021 of relatives killed in a hospital fire in the city of Nasiriyah AFP / Ali NAJAFI

This year, between January and March alone, the interior ministry has recorded 7,000 fires across the country.

War-scarred Iraq has registered more than 1.4 million cases of coronavirus and upwards of 17,000 deaths as daily infections spike.

"We don't have a government in power, we have a mafia. We have criminals ruling the country," Juberi told AFP.

A mourner grieves at a funeral in Iraq's central city of Najaf on July 13, 2021 for relatives who died in a hospital fire
A mourner grieves at a funeral in Iraq's central city of Najaf on July 13, 2021 for relatives who died in a hospital fire AFP / Ali NAJAFI

In late 2019, at the height of countrywide anti-government protests, the city of Nasiriyah was referred to as the heart of the uprising.

On Tuesday, it lived up to its reputation, with hundreds of young protesters vowing to take the main square so they could hold officials accountable.

A man reacts at the fire-ravaged hospital in Nasiriyah after the deadly fire that broke out on July 13, 2021
A man reacts at the fire-ravaged hospital in Nasiriyah after the deadly fire that broke out on July 13, 2021 AFP / Asaad NIAZI

Smoke still rose from the charred rubble of the makeshift isolation ward, and scaffolding that had barely held the temporary building together had collapsed.

Relatives of victims cried and dug their faces into their palms as others ripped their clothing amid anguished screams.

Disbelief at the fire-ravaged coronavirus ward of Al-Hussein hospital in Nasiriyah on July 13, 2021
Disbelief at the fire-ravaged coronavirus ward of Al-Hussein hospital in Nasiriyah on July 13, 2021 AFP / Asaad NIAZI

"Nothing burns but hospitals for the poor that have tin roofs," Jaberi said.

"What did the Iraqi people do and what did the poor do (to deserve this)? They were only bringing their sick relatives here, under this tin roof."

In the Shiite holy city of Najaf and smaller towns such as Al-Dawaya and Al-Nasr where victims had lived, the grief of funerals quickly morphed into fury directed at provincial officials mourners accused of corruption and neglect.

One coffin in Najaf bore the Koranic words "Allah's promise is true", signalling the brevity of life.

Another, draped in green and gold tapestry, was emblazoned with the Muslim mantra: "No God but one God".

An official tally on Tuesday in local media listed the names and professions of 39 identified victims, most of them women.

At the gutted site of the burnt-out isolation unit, Abu Nour al-Shawi, an elderly bespectacled man, spoke as young volunteers frantically cleared debris and people tried to find their relatives.

"People have been suffering for 18 years and in the end people are killed while they're alive. This is an unforgivable crime," he told AFP, his voice growing louder as he became more angry.

"A patient comes in looking for treatment and he ends up being carried out in a coffin by his family."

He pointed to the frailty of the structure that collapsed quickly in the flames.

"This place is not even fit for animals," he said.

Activist Hisham al-Sumeri, who helped the relief efforts late Monday and on Tuesday, was incensed.

"We heard their screams but we couldn't help them much," he said of the victims, and accused the local authorities of negligence.