Konika* Mother of three, Parivar Swasthya Kendra (PSK) client Konika is 20 years old, and the mother of three girls. Like many local young women, she decided to have an abortion when she became pregnant for the fourth time within five years. Citing financial issues as the driving force behind her decision, despite her mother-in-laws desire for her to have another child, hoping this time it would be a boy. Through a neighbour, she approached the PSK clinic in Bhiwandi for an abortion. In Konika’s community, many young women are married and have kids by the time they are 20. Now with PSK, women like Konika have a choice to be pregnant or not. *Name has been changed Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Rehkha Parivar Swasthya Kendra (PSK) link worker Family Planning Association of India, works with a network of volunteer link workers, who disseminate information about services available in the PSK clinic, make referrals, and often accompany women to the clinic for support. One of these link workers is Rehkha. Rekha says: "I have been involved with PSK for five years. And today I can proudly say that since the first awareness campaigns, there has been not a single death in the village due to an unsafe abortion." She adds: "These women are my flesh and blood. They know I only want the best for them… Within our communities we spread the message of safe sex and safe abortion through songs and skits which are easily understood. And I think the trick is to include mother-in-laws in our work. We have a high success rate in providing safe abortion care.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Shajahan Parivar Swasthya Kendra (PSK) link worker Shajahan is a link worker in the nearby Muslim district, where women pack into a house in the narrow village lanes to wait to speak to her. She says: "I am a Muslim. In my community, abortion is frowned upon, and contraception is considered a sin. Initially, the women thought I was going against our customs, and the men thought I was a bad influence on their wives. Some of the men in our area even approached my husband and asked him to order me to stop these efforts." But her husband was supportive, telling other men that it was also their responsibility to be part of the process. It took several years, but eventually Shajahan won the trust of the women and men of her area. "Today, every woman in my area comes to me when it concerns matters of sexual health." Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Gauri Family Planning Association of India (FPAI) staff Gauri has worked for FPAI for years and remembers hearing about the experiences of women who’d had unsafe abortions. "I had heard first-hand accounts of [unsafe] abortions that left women reeling in pain, suffering permanent infertility. I had also seen the grief in the faces of men whose wives died. So today when I see women leaving us, after an abortion, in perfect health, I feel like I've done something right with my life." Gauri continues: "My work may have started with one area, but I want to reach every corner of the country with FPAI - so that no woman in India becomes a statistic." Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Nisha Mother of two At 23, Nisha Boudh is already a mother to two children and severely anaemic. She feels she is in no position to have a third child, but her in-laws are not supportive. Nisha chose to have an abortion at FPAI’s Gwalior clinic. “I have been weak since childhood and, honestly, motherhood has taken a toll on my health. Doctors in other clinics were not willing help me and I would have died had FPAI not come to my rescue. With their doctors’ advice I have now decided to undergo an operation [tubal ligation] as I do not want to conceive. My mother-in-law was upset with my decision but I want to live to see my other children grow,” said Boudh. Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Diti* Sex worker Diti is a sex worker living in Kolkata. She says she, "owes her life to PSK". Diti was forced into an early marriage when she was just 12 years old. "Before my body could even develop, my husband was forcing himself upon me." By the age of 20, Diti had five children. Struggling to cope at such an early age, and married to an abusive husband, Diti ran away. "I don't enjoy having sex with strangers, but I need the money." She makes 300 rupees a day ($4 USD). When Diti became pregnant she didn’t want to continue with the pregnancy. "There's no way I can feed a child. Besides, this is no place to bring a child into the world. Another sex worker recommended the PSK clinic.” Diti was worried about visiting the clinic, fearing stigma and discrimination from staff for working as a sex worker. Her experience was vastly different, finding the clinic team to be welcoming, reassuring and supportive. "They treated me like a human being." Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Mala Medical officer “The big problem in this part of India is early marriage and pregnancy. Both of which need to be handled very delicately,” says medical officer Mala Tiwari. “Slowly, things are changing as women are becoming aware of their rights. Previously when GCACI did not exist there was very little interaction with the link workers, and they [and the community] feared it was illegal to get an abortion. They did not know they did not need the consent of their husbands and in-laws. They now know, women have a right over their body.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email Manju Mother of two, Parivar Swasthya Kendra (PSK) client Manju Rana was forced to marry at fifteen. “I have had two children in eight years of marriage,” she says. “My mother-in-law wanted me to keep having children. She does not understand I would not be able to give them a good education if I had more children. My husband is a driver and we cannot afford to have any more. When I learnt I was pregnant, without taking anyone’s permission, I went with the link worker of my area to the clinic and had an abortion.” Manju adds: “In these affordable clinics we can choose about pregnancy. They also made sure I was counselled, as coming to a decision about abortion is not easy.” Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share via WhatsApp Share via Email

Incessant rains across Sri Lanka during May 2017 affected over half a million people in seven districts. Most affected was the Ratnapura district where over 20,000 people faced flash floods, and where 46 deaths were reported. IPPF Humanitarian, in partnership with FPA Sri Lanka, responded to this catastrophe through the distribution of over 700 dignity kits in Ratnapura Dr. Rohan Jayasuriya and midwife Chaturika Lakmale were on the ground during and after the floods providing family planning services and contraception to women affected by the disaster. “When the floods came our clinic was located on higher ground, so it wasn’t damaged. The floods finished on the 31 May 2017, and we reopened one day later on the 1 June 2017. After the floods, we arranged several special clinics just for family planning, and distributed condoms and emergency supplies of the pill to camps in case women missed their regular form of contraception like injectables, implants or IUDs. In Sri Lanka, approximately 67% of couples use family planning, 26% of which prefer IUDs” We offered condoms and emergency supply of the pill. We told women to keep one packet of the pill in their handbag, and one in their home, should they ever have to run quickly in an emergency. One pregnant woman was delivering at this time, so she had to go on a boat to dry land, and then onwards in a vehicle to the hospital. Once we reopened the clinic, two of our own midwives were unable to attend work as the floods had affected them, but I was here. It was so busy.” Stories Read more stories from Sri Lanka

Incessant rains across Sri Lanka during May 2017 affected over half a million people in seven districts. Most affected was the Ratnapura district where over 20,000 people faced flash floods. “When the flood came, my husband was feeding my eldest child and the baby was asleep in the bed. I was outside of the house. My mother was brushing her teeth outside the back of the house. I looked up and saw trees falling near my neighbour’s house up the hill. My neighbours died. I couldn’t take any possessions – I just had to run for my life. My husband took my younger child. They were all screaming. Since then, I have had my children checked here in the Ministry of Health clinic; their weight, height and nutrition. We had two houses on the one block of land, but we will only get compensation for one house. We can’t live in a tent with a baby so are currently renting a house with our own money, but for a while my mother and father slept in this clinic.” Stories Read more stories from Sri Lanka

Muna Shrestha lives with her husband and two children in Bakultar, a rambling village of mud houses, tea shacks and vegetable, miles off a main road, at the end of a long dirt track in Kavre district, a few hours west of Kathmandu. On the morning of Saturday 25 April 2015, when the earthquake struck, she and her family were cleaning the cowshed. “It was so scary,” she says. “The children were not at home: we were so worried about the children and went looking for them. They were also looking for us.” The days after the earthquake were chaotic. “The schools were closed for a month,” Muna says. “And because all our clothes and possessions were in the ruins, it was difficult to get our things.” Their children were deeply traumatised. “They became scared, and, because of this fear, they wouldn’t eat and they suffered from nausea,” Muna says. As she speaks, she gestures around the family’s old home, at the deep fissures in the mud walls. “This home is cracked by the earthquake. Our family also have another house but that was completely destroyed.” Like many families across Nepal, the Shresthas have been unable to afford to rebuild and make their old home structurally safe. It is a story now ubiquitous across Nepal: a family losing their house and possessions, scarred by trauma, and unable to return home.

“After the earthquake, there were so many problems. So many homes were destroyed. People are still living in temporary homes because they’re unable to rebuild their homes.” Pasang Tamang lives in Gatlang, high up in the mountains of northern Nepal, 15 kilometres from the Tibetan border. It is a sublimely beautiful village of traditional three-storied houses and Buddhist shrines resting on the slopes of a mountain and thronged by lush potato fields. The 2000 or so people living here are ethnic Tamang, a people of strong cultural traditions, who live across across Nepal but particularly in the lands bordering Tibet. The earthquake of 25 April had a devastating impact on Gatlang. Most of the traditional houses in the heart of the village were damaged or destroyed, and people were forced to move into small shacks of corrugated iron and plastic, where many still live. “Seven people died and three were injured and then later died,” says Pasang. These numbers might seems small compared to some casualty numbers in Nepal, but in a tightknit village like Gatlang, the impact was felt keenly. Hundreds of people were forced into tents. “People suffered badly from the cold,” Pasang says. “Some people caught pneumonia.” At 2240 metres above sea level, nighttime temperatures in Gatlang can plunge.  Pregnant women fared particularly badly: “They were unable to access nutritious food or find a warm place. They really suffered.” Pasang herself was badly injured. “During the earthquake, I was asleep in the house because I was ill,” she says. “When I felt the earthquake, I ran out of the house and while I was running I got injured, and my mouth was damaged.” Help was at hand . “After the earthquake, there were so many organisations that came to help, including FPAN,” Pasang says. As well as setting up health camps and providing a range of health care, “they provided family planning devices to people who were in need.” Hundreds of families still live in the corrugated iron and plastic sheds that were erected as a replacement for tents. The government has been slow to distribute funds, and the villagers say that any money they have received falls far short of the cost of rebuilding their old stone homes. Pasang’s house stands empty. “We will not be able to return home because the house is cracked and if there was another earthquake, it would be completely destroyed,” she says. Since the earthquake, she has begun working as a volunteer for FPAN. Her role involves travelling around villages in the area, raising awareness about different contraceptive methods and family planning. Volunteers like Pasang perform a crucial function in a region where literacy levels and a strongly patriarchal culture mean that women marry young and have to get consent from their husbands before using contraception. In this remote community, direct contact with a volunteer who can offer advice and guidance orally, and talk to women about their broader health needs, is absolutely vital.

Two years after the earthquake that struck Nepal in April 2015, the village of Gatlang in the country’s mountainous north still lies in partial ruin. The houses here are built from enormous slabs of local stone, carved windows and doors, and roofs of stacked wooden planks. They face east towards the rising sun, their facades bedecked in intricate wooden carvings patterns linked to the ancient Buddhist culture of the Tamang people. Today, most of these houses lie in ruin, emptying the heart of the village of people, with most moving to temporary shacks on Gatlang’s fringes. Kopila Tamang is a 24-year-old farmer and mother to two young boys. Her husband, Nakul, works as a lorry driver and is often away. “When the earthquake struck, I was working in the fields,” she says. “If I had been at home, I would have died.” Kopila’s house – or what remains of it – lies at the centre of old Gatlang, on a street of traditional houses that have either entirely collapsed or are uninhabitable due to cracks and structural damage. Piles of stone and wooden cross beams are strewn in what was once a thriving village street. Like many families here, Kopila and her husband and boys have moved into a small shack built from corrugated iron and plastic. This was meant to be a temporary solution, but two years later, they are still living in it, unable to afford the enormous cost of rebuilding their old home. “It needs lots of money,” she says. “I don’t know when we will have the money to build this home again.” FPAN provided emergency health support to families like Kopila’s in the weeks and months after the earthquake. Mobile health camps offered medicines, health check ups, dignity kits, family planning, antenatal checks and other vital services.  These days, Kopila gets regular advice from Pasang Tamang, the FPAN reproductive health female volunteer in the village. Kopila had suffered after the birth of her last child. “I didn’t menstruate for eight months, and then after that I started using the [contraceptive] injection,” she says. “But there were some side effects: I started menstruating twice a month.” She then went to a mobile health camp run by FPAN and started using the intrauterine coil. “After that, my menstruation went back to normal,” she says. In a village scarred by the earthquake, access to family planning has brought some much needed stability and relief to Kopila and her small family. “FPAN provide different services and knowledge: I have come to know that having more children can bring suffering, because it’s not enough to just feed children, they must be educated too” she says. “A small family is a happy family.”