Stories

Félicité Sonhaye ATBEF Regional Coordinator The Association Togolaise pour le Bien-Être Familial (ATBEF), has led a pioneering programme training community health workers to administer contraception in the rural areas where they live. “The injection is used more than any other method. Around 60% of women use it,” said Félicité Sonhaye, ATBEF Regional Coordinator for Togo’s Plateaux region, which covers Ilama. “Women appreciate the reliability and long-lasting effects of the injection, which allow them to stop worrying about unexpected pregnancies”, Sonhaye added. Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Sossou Sagna Ilama village chief Men like Sossou Sagna, have great influence and respect within Togo’s rural communities. As Ilama’s village chief his approval was required for the ATBEF community project to take root. “I sent my own wife to seek family planning. The lady helped us and it worked really well. I also went with my older brother’s wife and she was very satisfied. Every member of this community is now aware that having a large family drives them towards poverty. Ignorance was the reason why we had so many children per family here before. Now with the family planning advice we have received, spacing births has become a reality and the reduction of the number of children per family.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Abla Abassa Community health worker Abla is a community health worker, and spends her days cycling around Ilama’s dusty streets visiting households that have signed up to an innovative programme providing contraception in hard-to-reach places. “Before, people didn’t have a lot of information about contraception. With the project the community is now able to space their births. I have seen the number of children per family going down. That’s contraception but also the increasing cost of living, and the fact that everyone wants to send their children to school.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Essivi Koutchona Client Facing prohibitive costs of school fees and food prices for six children, Essivi Koutchona, began using the contraceptive injection after deciding with her husband they did not want another child. She has received the injection every three months and has not experienced any side effects. “The community health worker passed by our house one day and explained the method and a bit about the possible side effects. We agreed as a couple that we wanted me to start using the injection.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Edem Badagbo Client 33-year-old Edem is a widowed father of three children. Edem hopes to have a vasectomy within the next month or so. His wife died following the birth of their third child but he is adamant he wants to follow through with a procedure they agreed upon before her death. “My wife agreed with the idea. I was scared when I first heard of it, but that’s because there was so little information available. When I came to the ATBEF clinic I received a lot more detail and that’s when I decided to do it. I have three children. That’s enough.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Yaori Ajossou Vasectomy client Yaori Ajossou, a retired soldier, heard about vasectomy while listening to an ABTEF awareness raising campaign on the radio. It prompted him to take on the responsibility for family planning in his marriage. “Before I had the idea that maybe I'd want to have more children, but after the campaign, and after my wife had talked a little bit about her health problems, I thought, well, maybe it's better to put the brakes on. I was about to retire. Why carry on having children? Six children is already a lot. It's already maybe too many.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Dede Koussawo Client 34-year-old Dede visits the ATBEF clinic in Lomé, Togo with her husband, Edem. “We do this together if his schedule permits it. I asked and he accepted. It's not typical (for men to come). Before the pregnancy, I was taking the pill. Before the first I was taking the pill and I used an IUD after my son's birth and after my daughter's birth as well. We've been really happy with the family planning we've got here so we decided to come here for Prescillia’s birth as well.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Mensah Awity Teacher and ABTEF youth club coordinator in Tohoun Mensah Awity is a teacher at a local school in Tohoun. He also coordinates the ABTEF youth club where they provide information and opportunities for the students to talk about sexual health, pregnancy, contraception. “At the beginning it was difficult for the club. Now teachers have started accepting the ideas and some pupils behave much better so it’s hard for them to keep condemning it. There are three girls who gave birth and who came back to school afterwards. At the beginning it was tough for them but we explained to the students that they shouldn’t be treated differently. The rate of pregnancy has definitely gone down at school.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Emefa Charita Ankouy Youth activist and student “I'm studying for a degree in English and I'm a young activist volunteer with the IPPF youth movement. We promote, we try to help young girls who are in education to have more information about sexual health and reproduction to help them to adopt a method to avoid a pregnancy. They don't have enough information about sexual health and reproduction. I think it's because of that that they've become pregnant. They want to have sex quite early. There is pressure and there's a lack of communication between the students and their parents. Here in Togo sex is taboo for everyone, above all for parents.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Evedoh Worou Community Health Worker, Ilama “The ones who prefer the pill are young students or apprentices. Often, they take it to reduce PMS, and it regulates their period. Sometimes women will forget to take the pill, which means the injection is preferred as it’s just once for three months. The women here have more autonomy and they now have the space to earn money themselves for the household as a result of the programme. At the beginning, there were some reservations among the men in the community but after our awareness campaigns, more and more of them accompany women for family planning.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Photography by Xaume Olleros for IPPF

  Every three months, Mawoula Dahide meets a community health worker in her village in central Togo to receive a single contraceptive injection and then carries on with her busy day. Dahide, 20, has a two-and-a-half year old son and a husband living in the capital and juggles an apprenticeship in tailoring with caring for her child. After recovering from the birth, Dahide tried the injection and immediately felt relief, knowing she would decide when she got pregnant again. “I want to use it for a couple of years and then maybe we will think about having another child,” she said.   Lack of access  Until 2013, Dahide and the other women living in the village of Ilama had no access to regular contraception at all, and its use was sometimes regarded with suspicion, and even fear. In her community, the average age of a mother’s first pregnancy is around 16, and women might bear a total of six or seven children compared to the national average of 4.7, according to local health workers. That trend is changing with a pioneering programme run by the Association Togolaise pour le Bien-Être Familial (ATBEF), which has trained community health workers to administer contraception in the rural areas where they live. ATBEF has focused their distribution of contraceptives within poor and rural communities, and with mobile outreach clinics that go to villages with no trained health workers. The unmet need for contraception in Togo stands at 34% of the population, and in rural communities, this is even higher.  The association contributes a fifth of overall contraception cover to couples in Togo, a West Africa nation of 7.8 million people. There is a clear favourite among the methods offered, which include male and female condoms, the pill, and the contraceptive injection. “The injection is more used than any other method. Around 60% of women use it,” said Félicité Sonhaye, ATBEF Regional Coordinator for Togo’s Plateaux region, which covers Ilama. Women appreciate the reliability and long-lasting effects of the injection, Sonhaye added, which allow them to stop worrying about unexpected pregnancies.   From client to advocate Dahide has become an advocate for the method among her peers within her community. “My friends are getting the injection as well. I was the first to start using it and it was great, so I told them about it,” she said. Another convert to the injection is Ilama’s village chief, Sossou Sagna. The father of seven agreed with his wife they didn’t want anymore children.  “I sent my own wife to seek family planning. The lady helped us and it worked really well. I also went with my older brother’s wife and she was very satisfied,” Sagna noted in the cool of the shade.  “My wife chose the three-month injection,” he added. Sagna had not anticipated some of the wider effects of increasing contraceptive use within the community, which have become prevalent over the last couple of years. “Every member of this community is now aware that having a large family drives them towards poverty,” he said. Families have more money to spend feeding and educating their children in an economy where the cost of living keeps rising. Villagers who see Sagna attending family planning sessions are also convinced that rumours about contraception making them ill are untrue. “Ignorance was the reason why we had so many children per family here before. Now with the family planning advice we have received, spacing births has become a reality and the reduction of the number of children per family,” he added. The gains of the ATBEF rural programme will now go even further with the imminent introduction of Sayana Press, a contraceptive injection that women can self-administer.   Learn more about some of the most popular contraception methods available and if they are right for you    Photography by Xaume Olleros for IPPF

Komi Agnimavo Amazoun becomes visibly angry when he recalls the phone call telling him a 16-year-old girl was to be married off from his village in central Togo. As the highly respected village chief of Detokpo, a community of a few hundred people, Amazoun had the final say on the union, which later turned out to be the result of an attempted cover-up of a rape.   Forced early marriage “I saw that she was being married off too young. The parents came to see me and I said she was not the right age,” the usually softly spoken elder said. “She didn’t yet have an education or a job” and says the girl is now 18 and has started an apprenticeship in tailoring. Such successful interventions by village chiefs in ending forced early marriage reflects the crucial importance of their involvement in sexual health strategies in the country especially in rural areas. Detakpo is one of 870 villages which have signed Village Girl Protection Charters to stop forced transactional sex in rural communities, in an initiative promoted by the Association Togolaise Pour le Bien-Être Familial (ATBEF). The charters outline prevention measures and rules in line with Togolese law to stop the rape and exploitation of underage girls, who are particularly vulnerable outside urban areas where professional advice and protection are more easily reached.   Working with parents Amazoun has also received training from ATBEF on the law, which bans marriage under 18 without parental consent, and on the use of contraception to prevent underage pregnancy. “We have started to raise awareness in the village so that similar cases won’t be repeated,” Amazoun said, sitting on a plastic chair outside his home. “I wanted to work with the parents so we can stop marrying off these girls too young,” he adds. Although the official rate of marriage under 18 in Togo stands at 22%, according to UNICEF, the true rate is likely much higher, as many weddings are village ceremonies that are never registered with the authorities. “This is a very traditional place with entrenched customs. The problem of sexual violence runs very deep, which means that we have cases upon cases to deal with,” explained Dopo Kakadji, the Director for Social Action in Haho Prefecture. Kakadji oversees sexual violence cases and child protection in the area, mediating disputes over marriage and providing a link between communities and the police when necessary.   The future is looking promising In many households, he said, “the woman cannot make decisions for herself. She is an object that can be used as one likes. A father can exchange a daughter to resolve problems or for money”. However, his interventions, and the creation of youth clubs to inform children of their rights, has seen families increasing willing to denounce rapists publicly.  “Today girls go to school. Things have changed in the last five years, because before the priority was to marry off daughters as soon as possible,” Kakadji noted.   Photography by Xaume Olleros for IPPF  

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.”