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“I saw this challenge when children are having children and they're having a number of children at a very young age,” says 37-year-old Matiisetso Sefako, after emerging from the Lesotho Planned Parenthood Association (LPPA) tent in Mokhethoaneng village, an hour drive from the capital Maseru. “For them to be engaged in family planning, it would really help them.” The mother of two lives just outside the village and says she’s become something of a community activist on the issue of early child marriage and the need for family planning. After she receives services, she lingers for an hour, speaking with young women and teenage girls who are looking over at the LPPA mobile clinic with interest.    She herself was a 19-year-old mother and has been using contraceptives for nearly 20 years. Then, it was harder to come by and she would often have to travel at her own cost. Now, she comes regularly when LPPA makes the monthly visit to her village.  And she’s done quite a lot on this to advise people to try and convince them to come and access such services, she says.  “The only problem I encounter is that the biggest challenge within the village is that there is a high rate of teenage pregnancy. I try to convince them this tent will help.”  This is her fourth visit to the LPPA outreach to receive services herself. Her only wish? “That these services be here every day,” she says, explaining that there is a deeply-felt need in her community and her hope is that she can refer more young women to follow up and receive the same monthly services she benefits from.  

When Raphel Marafan Kori’s husband died in 2001, she was left to fend for herself, in a largely patriarchal society. Now 45-years-old, she keeps busy and earns an income as a peer educator in Tsenekeng village in Lesotho’s Semonkong region.  She goes door to door to counsel her neighbors and residents of the village in family planning options available. She’s been doing it for nine months and visibly brightens when she starts talking about the work. "I introduce myself, after that I explain to the people the services that we provide, the importance of the choices that we can make about contraceptives."  She was appointed by the village chief, Makholu Mahao, to participate in a training provided by LPPA in the capital, Maseru and soon after, dove into her fieldwork. Some people immediately understand and welcome the offerings, she says, while others take some time.  Protection & permission  Now nine months into the work, she says the biggest issue facing her community is “that adolescents still need consent from the parents. And the parents seem to have a problem with that because in a way, [they think] it is allowing them, giving them the freedom to indulge in sex.”  “Another way I can explain [is to] mention  HIV testing here and to remind [parents] it's not only they're getting protection but also for them to help them plan for future."   Going door to door Occasionally she’ll hold community gatherings, but mostly she has these conversations door to door. “I’m working very hard to make sure the children also engage in this for the future. It’s a challenge,” she admits. She herself comes to the mobile outreach post for family planning services, something she says helps break the ice when she is out in the community talking about family planning. She tells them she uses the pill because she is allergic to the injectable option offered here.  “I get to talk to people because I can counsel them on HIV and AIDS daily to make them understand that just because you have HIV it's not the end of the world but you need to take your medication properly and life continues,” she explains proudly, sitting a few meters away from the She Decides tent with a line of women outside. Overall, she says she has benefitted as much from her work as the beneficiaries. “I engage with people. I also learned a lot, it educated me especially on the protection side because even myself before I was not aware of such information but now I've learned and I can give other people this information.” 

“I was 18 when I married. But back then that was old!” 76-year-old Makholu Mahao laughs as she goes on to list her nine children – 4 boys, 5 girls including twins.  “At the time that I was married, if I knew about contraceptives, I wouldn’t have had so many children,” she insists.  Her tone becomes forceful and serious when she shifts to subjects like teenage pregnancy and childhood marriage, both ills that are prevalent in her village in the Semonkong region, known as Tsenekeng Hamojalefa.  The village sits atop a rocky hillside, most easily accessible by horse or donkey, and 114 kilometres from the capital, Maseru. She is the village chief now, a post she took up when her husband, the former chief, died.  And to her, “the big challenges are teenage pregnancy and early marriage. We’re seeing the difficulty in labor, children dying in labor, and young mothers dying in early labor. Those are the main things I need assistance with,” she explains to staff from Lesotho Planned Parenthood Association (LLPA), on a field visit to LPPA’s mobile clinic down the hill from Makholu’s home.  More than family planning “How can we stop this problem,” she asks her visitors.  Underage girls “marry at a young age, they don’t know what marriage is. They bear children and bear children and have problems, like death or infant death,” she reiterates. And it’s not just family planning that benefits the residents of her village. 16 villages ring the hillsides around the mobile outreach post, set up today to offer family planning, counseling, and HIV testing.  Before the arrival of LPPA on a monthly basis, “we were not receiving any other services other than the two clinics,” she explains, describing clinics approximately 40 km from her village. She adds, “We would leave early in the morning to get there at 9 or 10 to get the services. It was very congested so we would leave and get back here without getting any services.” Encouraging young people When it comes to combatting stigma in a patriarchal society, this great grandmother says some couples do go together for services or at least are in agreement about pursuing services. Still, “men cannot go with the women,” she explains. Throughout the day, men and women gather in separate groups outside the LPPA tents to receive consultations separately.  She sends a strong message by giving her OK for underage single women to seek family planning services. “It is acceptable that [minors] can get it [services], single or not,” she says. “At the end of the day, it’s protection for early pregnancy. The elderly – like me – don’t usually agree with that. But the [minors] will go on their own, however they can. I support that.”    

Bolelwa Falten in based in Losotho’s capital, Maseru, and has been working as a HIV counsellor for the better part of a decade, bouncing from different organizations depending on where the funding goes. Before she joined, IPPF nine months ago, 40-year-old Bolelwa worked with PSI Losotho. Now, she runs the “North team” as part of LPPA’s outreach program.  She handles five different outreach posts and today, she is running the HIV testing clinic at one site.  Bolelwa proudly takes us through the full range of tests and counseling services they offer there, taking particular pride in explaining how she follows up patients who test positive. She knows the beneficiaries appreciate the work – it’s something she sees every time she does an outreach day.  “They no longer need transport money, time to get to the clinic. Our being here is actually bringing the service to where they are and where they need it,” she says. But quickly, she follows up, noting that in general, HIV and STI mobile healthcare services have been hit-hard by funding cuts in recent years.

"This is a relief. I'm feeling very happy now that services have been brought,” 34-year-old Makamohelo Tlali, says, smiling outside the Lesotho Planned Parenthood Association (LPPA) tent on the hillside of Hamoshati village in Lesotho. Makamohelo is a relatively new beneficiary of family planning services offered monthly at a post near her village. This is her second visit. She walks over 30 minutes each way but says that’s by far the best option for her.  "I feel happy that services are here, for free. When I accessed them before it would take transport costs to get to the place."  In the past, it would cost her 40 rand for taxis to the closest clinic, plus the additional cost of family planning services.      Makamohelo first heard about these offerings from a peer mobilizer going door to door in her village.  “I met her along the way and discussed the way I can access family planning services. They’re scarce this side. And she told me on a specific date there would be LPPA people offering services." “Now here I am,” she says, laughing.  She takes advantage of the free HIV testing offered here as well and says she is hopeful the family planning will be maintained, mentioning that other NGOs have come and gone over the course of several years. For her and her husband, family planning is openly discussed in the household and important for the health of their current family. They have three children, 2 girls and a boy.  “Three is enough! My husband has no problem with me accessing family planning here,” she explains, adding that her husband relies on piecemeal jobs while she farms to feed the family. 

When garment worker Ny thought she might be pregnant with her first child, a home test kit quickly confirmed her suspicions. But the 23-year-old – who is originally from Takeo province but moved to Phnom Penh to take up a job in the garment industry – did not know where to go to seek prenatal care. After a cousin recommended that she visit a nearby Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia clinic, Ny took her relative’s advice – and has gone back eight times to date. “I come here every month to check on the baby,” she says, cradling her belly. “I had never been before I got pregnant.” During her visits to the medical clinic, Ny says, she has had a raft of standard tests and procedures as part of her prenatal care, including two ultrasounds, blood and urine tests, and vaccinations. “The doctors have also been giving me advice on how to look after myself and the baby [such as] to eat nutritious food and not to carry heavy things,” she says. As well as caring for the health of mother and unborn child, RHAC staff have also offered up valuable family planning information. “I did not know about how to plan to have children before I came to the clinic,” Ny says. “The doctors here told me that there are three different methods of [long-term] contraception: medication, an implant and an IUD.” Ny, who sews winter clothing at a factory while her husband also works in a nearby garment factory, says she was very glad to learn about her options. “This child was unplanned, but I don’t feel any regret because I had already been married for two years. But after having the baby I plan to use birth control, though I don’t know what method I will use,” she says. “I know that I don’t want to have another child straight away. It may be two or three years until I have the next one, as I want to wait until my family’s finances improve.”

Female workers, many of them undereducated migrants from rural areas, dominate the garment sector in Cambodia. And Propitious garment factory in Takhmao, a small city that lies just south of the capital Phnom Penh, is no exception. Women make up more than 90 percent of the factory’s workforce. Helping to oversee the 3,700-strong workforce is human resources manager Kouch Davy, who has worked at Propitious since it opened four years ago. Seeing a need to improve the workers’ sexual and reproductive health knowledge, she says she decided to work with the Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia (RHAC) because of its reputation for providing high-quality services. “I raised it in a management meeting, and the board was happy to explore it,” she says. For almost two years, trained staff from RHAC have been visiting the factory twice a month to meet with workers during their lunch break. They answer questions on topics ranging from birth control to STIs and abortion. The organisation has also provided training to the nurses who work in the factory’s on-site medical clinic. Davy says the factory’s female garment workers have changed as a result. “They are more open to asking questions about sexual health and they have also become more informed about the subject,” she says. “When they don’t dare to ask questions about sensitive health topics, they don’t have the information they need, so they tend to exaggerate their problems and ask for sick leave. But when they go to see an RHAC clinic and get proper treatment, there is less sick leave. “Now that they understand about contraception, there are fewer women getting pregnant and taking maternity leave, so that also helps with the workflow. ” Davy says the factory has seen requests for sick leave drop by an average of between 100 to 200 cases a month – and any decrease in absenteeism is a major boon for productivity. “The factory works like a chain: if just one person on the production line takes a day off, it affects the overall productivity,” she says. “And if a worker comes to work sick, they have problems concentrating.” Even Davy says she has gone to RHAC to seek medical care, visiting one of their clinics a few months ago for a breast examination. Meanwhile, the company that owns Propitious has extended its partnership with RHAC to a second factory in Phnom Penh. The firm has even requested that the NGO starts visiting its largest factory, which is situated in a rural province and has 10,000 workers, in the future.

Sophorn, a garment worker for the past decade, first visited a Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia (RHAC) clinic when she was pregnant with her first child. She returned for health checks each month until, at five months pregnant, she lost the baby. Her second pregnancy also resulted in a miscarriage, leaving her distraught. Then, she got pregnant a third time, in 2013. “I started to discuss with the doctors how to protect my child,” she says. “They gave me medication to strengthen my cervix, which I took for six months. In the seventh month, I gave birth prematurely.” Doctors told Sophorn that her baby girl was health, but she only weighed in at 1.7 kilograms. The infant was taken to a specialist children’s hospital, where she was cared for an additional two weeks. “During the pregnancy I was very worried,” Sophorn says. “I felt so happy when I finally delivered my child.” Her daughter was born without any complications is now a happy and healthy four years old. In initial stages of her third pregnancy, Sophorn’s friends told her that she would have to undergo surgery on her cervix or have injections to help her carry her baby to term, and doctors at a private clinic confirmed their suggestions. However, she decided to seek a second opinion at RHAC, where doctors instead gave her a prescription to strengthen her cervix. “When I heard I needed to have that surgery I was very scared, so I was relieved when the doctor at RHAC told me to take the medication instead,” she says. “While I was taking the medication I observed my body and any changes to it, so when I felt unwell I would go to the doctors and consult them, so I felt comfortable to continue taking it.” Sophorn also went for appointments at a government-run hospital, but found that their services were also lacking. “I told the doctors about losing my first and second babies, but they only weighed me and measured my stomach. There weren’t any more examinations or very much care,” she says. “When I went to RHAC they did so many examinations and had so many services, so I think it’s really better to go to RHAC for these kinds of services.” She estimates that during her third pregnancy, she had ten appointments at RHAC clinics at a cost of 40,000 to 60,000 riel (£7.40 to £11.15) each time. Compared to just 2,000 riel for an obstetrics appointment at the public hospital, the difference in cost is significant. “It’s expensive for me because my salary is little.” Despite the relatively high prices, Sophorn already knows where she will go for medical care in the future. “I want to have one more child, and I have already planned that when I decide to do it I will go to RHAC to get my cervix checked first,” she says. Until that day comes, Sophorn is taking the oral contraceptive after receiving advice about birth control from RHAC’s clinicians, with a midwife from the NGO making regular visits to the factory.

Pann Chandy gave her first sexual education lesson when she was still at school as a volunteer youth social worker with the Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia (RHAC). She had no qualms about standing up in front of her classmates to discuss culturally taboo topics when she was just a teenager. Now aged 25 and in possession of a Bachelor degree in midwifery, Chandy has been employed by RHAC for less than a year, working as part of the organisation’s health outreach team. The job is demanding: she is tasked with regularly visiting four karaoke parlours, eight garment factories and 20 villages in Phnom Penh, with plans to expand to two universities imminently. Travelling for hours A round trip to some communities can take two hours or more on her motorcycle, travelling alone into areas that are not always easily accessible. “Sometimes I have the clinic staff with me, but rarely,” Chandy says. “I promote the health services provided by Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia as well. If they are interested in going to a clinic, I give them a referral,” she says. One of the factories on her regular roster is Propitious garment factory in Takhmao, a small city south of Phnom Penh. Chandy spends two days a month at the factory, where she speaks to groups of women or has one-on-one discussions about sensitive topics. Passionate about the job “Just yesterday during the outreach service, a woman asked me why she didn’t get her period after having an abortion. She wanted to know what was wrong,” she says. “It’s common for women to use unsafe abortion methods. Mainly they take medicine from a pharmacy, and the pharmacy doesn’t give them any advice on how to use it. Often they go to cheap, unlicensed clinics near the factories for medical abortions.” Chandy is passionate about her job at Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia, and dreams about one day setting up her own pharmacy where she could provide comprehensive advice to clients. “There are a lot of unlicensed pharmacists in this country,” she says, many of which prescribe the counterfeit medicines that have inundated the market. “I think I may have the capacity to become a licensed one."

After three years of marriage, Cambodian garment worker Sineang had started to wonder why she hadn’t yet become pregnant. Still in her early 20s, she and her husband wanted to have a baby and were not using contraception. In late 2011 or early 2012, Sineang visited a Reproductive Health Association of Cambodia clinic to seek treatment after she noticed some vaginal discharge. During the appointment, her doctor asked her more details about her sexual and reproductive health history: the issue of infertility soon came up. “I had been wanting to have a child for three years, since I was married,” she says. “I felt down about myself, but my husband gave me encouragement and told me it was okay that I was not pregnant yet.” During the initial examination, Sineang says, she was tested for cervical cancer as well as other reproductive health issues that can interfere with pregnancy. RHAC staff prescribed medication to treat her fertility problems, which she continued taking until they confirmed she was pregnant. “At first, I wasn’t really convinced that there was any relation between the discharge and not having a baby, but later I started to think that there was a connection,” she says. Throughout the whole period, Sineang went to RHAC each month – switching from infertility treatment to prenatal care – until she gave birth to a baby girl in 2013. “I was very happy when my daughter was born,” she says. “She’s healthy.” At the time, RHAC offered a discount to garment workers, which Sineang says was a big help. It’s no longer on offer, but she is an enthusiastic supporter of a plan RHAC is hoping to implement soon – a partnership with the National Social Security Fund that would allow them to visit RHAC clinics for free through the fund. “It would be really great if they could, because having a baby is expensive,” she says. “The clinic at RHAC has better service than the public hospitals. When I had my first baby, I wanted to have good service, because I had this problem with discharge [in the past].” Sineang, who is originally from Kandal province and works at Dewhirst garment factory in Phnom Penh, said she was pleased to see RHAC midwives doing regular outreach sessions at the factory. “It’s good for women to know more about these issues,” she says. And not only that, but Sineang is also an active ambassador for RHAC, spreading the word about the NGO’s services to friends and colleagues who have also struggled to have a baby. “I referred a friend to RHAC after she saw that I finally got pregnant. Now my friend, who didn’t have a baby, has two children,” she says. “I also referred another colleague who is having the same problem, and she is going to go on Sunday.”