February 28, 2006- (IPS/GIN)Walking into the Angolan capital's
main maternity hospital, the first thing that hits any visitor
is the stench: a nauseating combination of blood and excrement.
After a short while, the stomach settles and the eyes adjust to
the poor light in the Maternidade Lucrecia Paim; then, the true
wretchedness of the gray walls and broken windows begins to sink
in.
A heavily pregnant woman wearing a tatty T-shirt
full of holes is obviously in a lot of pain. Unable to find relief,
she stumbles up and down the corridor, fretfully tying and untying
her grubby sarong. She is wearing no underwear and as she leans,
exhausted and moaning, against the wall, blood trickles down her
legs and onto the floor.
No one offers her assistance or a kind word. No
one mops up the blood. The scene is a telling illustration of
how perilous child- bearing in this Southern African country can
be -- and of the difficulties Angola will have in meeting the
fifth Millennium Development Goal (MDG) of reducing maternal mortality
by three quarters by 2015.
The United Nations Children's Fund estimates that
for every 1,000 live births in Angola, 17 women die from pregnancy-related
causes. Angolan women are thought to carry a one-in-seven risk
of maternal death, higher than the one-in-16 risk for sub-Saharan
Africa -- and much, much worse than the one-in-2,000 and one-in-3,000
risk in Europe and the United States.
To a large extent, these figures are a legacy of
Angola's 27- year civil war between government and the Union for
the Total Independence of Angola (Uni o Nacional para a Independencia
Total de Angola -- UNITA).
While the country may now be enjoying its fourth
year of peace, there is still a general lack of basic health facilities.
Roads made impassable by potholes or landmines render the few
services that do exist inaccessible to many in remote areas.
Pregnant women often go without basic antenatal
care that includes advice on AIDS, nutrition, hygiene and the
prevention of malaria -- a disease which leads to anemia among
pregnant women, and is a chief culprit in both maternal and infant
mortality.
They also continue with established, but sometimes
dangerous practices of plying their trade at the market or working
in the fields right up until childbirth. When expectant mothers
fear that something is amiss, they struggle to get to a health
facility -- and often arrive too late.
"There is a lack of facilities, but the women
also come seeking help at a very late stage," says Maryse
Ducloux, assistant medical coordinator with the Belgian branch
of Doctors without Borders, an international aid group.
Furthermore, many births take place in the absence
of medical staff, meaning that complications which need not prove
fatal often result in death.
"There is a long belief in traditional medicine
and having babies at home, either on your own or with family members
-- mothers, sisters, cousins -- to help. These beliefs are difficult
to counteract," notes Ducloux.
"When the women reach the hospitals, the harsh
reality is that there is often nothing we can do for them. They
just come to die."
Then there is the sensitive issue of abortion, illegal in Angola
except in instances where it is required to save a woman's life.
"There are no facilities for abortion, but
it doesn't stop some women from trying at home using traditional
medicine. They often arrive in our hospitals in a terrible state,"
says Ducloux.
High levels of fertility and precocious sexual activity
mean the threat of complications, infection and death during childbirth
is greatly increased.
The government claims to be very concerned about
the health of its mothers, saying it wants to reduce the number
of maternal deaths by a third by 2008 -- something that would
also mark substantial progress on MDG Five. (In all, eight MDGs
were adopted by global leaders at the U.N. Millennium Summit in
New York six years ago to address several of the main barriers
to development, such as child and maternal mortality, environmental
degradation and unfair global trade rules.)
But Angola faces an almost endless list of equally
pressing needs, and with maternal health seen as a weaker cash-generator
among donors than the fight against child mortality, there are
fears that little will be done to make provisions for expectant
mothers.
Such a development would be especially grim in a
country where many women lack access to education, and have few
prospects apart from motherhood.
Angolan women have seven children on average. They
also start having babies at an early age, with an estimated 70
percent giving birth to their first child while they are still
teenagers.
Family planning information is scarce, and while
medical practitioners in the field say women are willing to try
contraception and birth spacing, the husbands and partners of
these women often see this as an affront to their virility.
At Maternidade Lucrecia Paim, Teresa Miguel* is
confronting the consequences of under-investment in maternal health.
Her family lives in Viana, a poor suburb just a
few kilometers from the center of Luanda. But her young daughter,
pregnant with her second child at just 21 years old, arrived at
the hospital too late and her baby girl was born dead.
Tears coursing down her cheeks, Miguel clasps her
head in her hands and prays out loud for Lucia, who is still in
the emergency ward, and still hemorrhaging.
The nurses have sent her out to buy drugs for Lucia,
but in her distressed state she doesn't really know what to buy
or where to go. Within a few minutes, she is back at the emergency
room, empty- handed and panicky.
A young girl of about 16 looks on anxiously as she
strokes her swollen belly.
"If you don't have the money to buy the drugs
and the dressings, then you don't get the treatment," she
explains, clutching a 200 kwanza note (about $2.20) in her hand.
Sadly, she, Lucia and even the bleeding woman roaming
the hospital corridor can count themselves lucky. At least they
live near the capital and have some access to basic antenatal
and post- partum care. Most women in Angola's vast hinterland
often have to manage on their own.
* Not her real name.
From: http://proquest.umi.com/pqdweb?did=995486281&Fmt=3&clientId=2641&RQT=309&VName=PQD