It wasn’t the group meetings, the testing services or the health facilities that attracted Manny Norman, it was the offer of a free subway card and a bite to eat. A friend who was also a substance use told him about the workshops in a basement at a nearby community centre. Manny focused on the subway card which would be worth a few dollars if he sold it on. “I just wanted something to eat,” he says. “I hadn’t eaten in probably 20 hours. And the idea of getting more drugs without stealing sounded good to me.” Thirteen years later and he is still attending the Safety Counts meetings run by Planned Parenthood’s Project Street Beat, and credits them with helping him rebuild a life shattered by drug abuse. At the time, he explains he was neglecting his young family, stealing from them to buy crack cocaine and alcohol. His wife would call the police or lock him out of the home on an almost daily basis. “I was on crack and alcohol, the drugs that led me to dereliction, that led me to stealing, being unmanageable, not responsible, without a care in the world,” he says. “(I) didn’t want to work. I just wanted to feed my drug addiction.” Starting a new life But when he walked into the Safety Counts meetings, he says now, he realised he was among people who understood his life. “They met me where I was at,” he says. “They could tell I was under the influence. They could tell I was hurting, that I wasn’t doing the right thing and they made me feel no less than and no different. They gave me hope to come back the next week.” At first, he just went with the flow, focusing on the food and the subway card, not taking much notice of the services on offer. But eventually, he realised there were other people in the room he had come out the other side and rebuilt their lives. “We talked about harm reduction,” he says. “I could identify with the stories other people were telling. Lying, cheating, stealing, borrowing money knowing you wouldn’t pay it back.” Detox and rehab followed. He used the facilities of the projects mobile medical unit to get himself tested for Hepatitis C and HIV and has managed to stay clean, even training as an HIV outreach worker, and has rebuilt his family life. “It’s a happy home now,” he says. “My daughter got her father back, my wife got her husband back. Most of all I got myself back, thank God.” Without Project Street Beat he says his life would have continued its downward spiral. He would most likely be in prison today. Instead, he works as a supervisor for a cleaning company. And when he bumps into one of his friends from the old days he knows what to do. “When I walk down the street and see someone I know – someone I took drugs with or drank with – I let them know exactly where the mobile might be at,” he said. “I have cards in my pocket I give out to people and let them know this is the new way.” Watch Project Street Beat in action

A young man stops by a pile of rubbish at the side of the road. He fiddles with an abandoned umbrella, snapping off one of its broken ribs and slipping it into his backpack. Eric Fairchild spots the signs. The HIV prevention specialist greets the man like an old friend. “We got condoms, leaflets, testing right here,” he says standing in front of Planned Parenthood’s mobile medical unit. The man refuses initially, stepping into a nearby grocery store, before returning a few minutes later with his girlfriend to hear about the services on offer. The umbrella rib, says Mr Fairchild later, was a giveaway. It makes a perfect tool for scraping the residue from a substance pipe. Understanding and overcoming Eric has worked for Planned Parenthood for 12 years, using his experience growing up in the Brooklyn neighbourhood of Brownsville to help spot others who are in need of help. “I was part of the streets,” he says. “I was a substance abuser. Never injected, but I smoked, sniffed... stuff of that nature.” He has been clean for 26 years but explains that his experiences help him connect with other users. “The first thing I do when I have hardcore substance abusers sitting in front of me, I first show them identification,” he says.  “I let them know I understand just how they feel. I’ve been there feeling hopeless, helpless, confused about where to turn.” Some occasions might mean he has to use the training and education he has received as an outreach worker. Other times it is a case of using his 60 years’ experience of life in Brooklyn. “That’s my benefit to the programme,” he says. “I’m street savvy as well as educated in the classroom. I have the best of both worlds.” Eric already had an extensive background in community work before joining the project, prompted by a desire to learn more about HIV prevention following the death of a relative and a friend died from the illness. He is often the first point of contact for clients, handing out pamphlets on the street corner, conducting HIV tests and explaining Project Beat Street– and the facilities available on the mobile unit to wary newcomers. From there he can offer advice and guidance on other services, from home care managers to sources of funding for people with HIV and setting up appointments at clinics. He follows up with phone calls and meetings, often at every step of a client’s progress. “I saw when they came in,” he says. “I saw them come in from a struggling situation, uncomfortable with their lifestyle at the time. Going from being an unproductive member of society to taking better care of themselves and being in a healthier situation that they were before. I am always happy to know I was part of that process.” Watch Project Street Beat in action

Cyclone Winston, which devastated Fiji, was the strongest to ever hit the South Pacific. IPPF’s humanitarian response there was carried out with our Member Association, the Reproductive & Family Health Association of Fiji, and is part of our SPRINT Initiative, funded by the Australian Government. Despite its flourishing international tourism industry, Fiji remains a deeply conservative and traditional society, bound by long-held rules on culture and conduct. In particular, any discussion about sex and sexuality is taboo: including talk of sex, condoms, pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections. Given Fiji’s relatively high rate of teen pregnancy (36 in 1000 in the 15-19 age group, according to UNFPA 2016 statistics), it is an issue of growing concern. It falls upon the village headman to provide guidance on how the issue is tackled: and when there is one who is progressive and not afraid to discuss taboo topics, it augers well for the sexual health of the entire community. Sevuama Sevutia is one such leader. The deputy headman of Naiserelegai village is a proud advocate of condom-use, telling the young people of the village that it is vital to wear them to prevent pregnancy. “My experiences, I share with the kids,” says Sevuama. “I tell the children, get to that stage of knowing what the sexual relationship is all about. Please look after yourself and if you have a problem, with the young boys or if someone is giving you the wrong advice, please tell people. It’s my job to tell them, to call their mother, their father.” “Nowadays, as the education level rises, we have to open up. But in the village, in the olden days, when people would see condoms they would say, 'no no, don’t talk about that'. But I am encouraging them to open up.” His children, too, are encouraged to be open. “I tell them, this is a condom,” he says, brandishing an imaginary condom. “Safe sex. If you want to have sex, use a condom. Use the condom! And protect yourself from the other things.” Sevuama, 53, a former marine engineer, spent decades in Suva before returning to his bayside home village of Naiserelegai. He was in the city at the time of the cyclone but managed to get back three or four days later when the roads had re-opened. He found his home damaged but intact and his five children safe, but much of the village destroyed and his wife still in shock. He received a small amount of money from the government to help fix his roof. Earlier this year, he, along with other men in the village, participated in IPPF information sessions on male sexual health and fertility, which he described as very helpful in complementing and reinforcing his existing knowledge. “We had a lot of questions, like mostly for the man, something might have happened to them during a difficult time. All this information helps the communities.” Stories Read more stories about our work in Fiji after the Cyclone Winston