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Spotlight

A selection of stories from across the Federation

2024 trends
Story

What does the year 2024 hold for us?

As the new year begins, we take a look at the trends and challenges ahead for sexual and reproductive health and rights.
Sophorn
story

| 16 November 2017

"During the pregnancy I was very worried”

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.

Sophorn
story

| 28 March 2024

"During the pregnancy I was very worried”

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
story

| 16 November 2017

“Just yesterday during the outreach service, a woman asked me why she didn’t get her period after having an abortion..."

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."

Pann Chandy
story

| 28 March 2024

“Just yesterday during the outreach service, a woman asked me why she didn’t get her period after having an abortion..."

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."

Sineang
story

| 16 November 2017

“I was very happy when my daughter was born”

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.”

Sineang
story

| 28 March 2024

“I was very happy when my daughter was born”

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.”

IPPF volunteer in Nepal for FPAN
story

| 25 July 2017

Female volunteers take the lead to deliver life critical health advice after the earthquake

“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.

IPPF volunteer in Nepal for FPAN
story

| 28 March 2024

Female volunteers take the lead to deliver life critical health advice after the earthquake

“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.

Young nepalese volunteer from IPPF in Nepal, FPAN
story

| 25 July 2017

Thousands of young volunteers join us after the earthquake

The April 2015 earthquake in Nepal brought death and devastation to thousands of people – from which many are still recovering. But there was one positive outcome: after the earthquake, thousands of young people came forward to support those affected as volunteers. For Rita Tukanbanjar, a twenty-two-year-old nurse from Bhaktapur in the Kathmandu Valley, the earthquake was an eye-opening ordeal: it gave her first-hand experience of the different ways that natural disasters can affect people, particularly women and girls. “After the earthquake, FPAN was organising menstrual hygiene classes for affected people, and I took part in these,” she says. The earthquake severely affected people’s access to healthcare, but women and girls were particularly vulnerable: living in tents can make menstrual hygiene difficult, and most aid agencies tend to neglect these needs and forget to factor them into relief efforts. “After the earthquake, lots of people were living in tents, as most of the houses had collapsed,” Rita says. “During that time, the girls, especially, were facing a lot of problems maintaining their menstrual hygiene. All the shops and services for menstrual hygiene were closed.” This makes FPAN’s work even more vital. The organisation stepped into the breach and organised classes on menstrual hygiene and taught women and girls how to make sanitary pads from scratch. This was not only useful during the earthquake, but provided valuable knowledge for women and girls to use in normal life too, Rita says: “From that time on wards, women are still making their own sanitary pads.” In an impoverished country like Nepal, many women and girls can simply not afford to buy sanitary pads and tampons. Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world with gross domestic product per capita of just $691 in 2014. In this largely patriarchal culture, the needs of women often come low down in a family’s priorities. “This is very important work and very useful,” Rita says. The women and girls also learned about how to protect themselves from sexual violence, which saw a surge in the weeks after the earthquake, with men preying on people living in tents and temporary shacks. Rita and her family lived in a tent for 20 days. “There was always the fear of getting abused,” she says. Eventually they managed to return home to live in the ruins of their house: “one part was undamaged so we covered it with a tent and managed to sleep there, on the ground floor.” Seeing the suffering the earthquake had caused, and the work FPAN and other organisations were doing to alleviate it, cemented Rita’s decision to begin volunteering. “After the earthquake, when things got back to normal, I joined FPAN.” She also completed her nursing degree, which had been interrupted by the disaster. “Since joining FPAN, I have been very busy creating awareness about sexual rights and all kinds of things, and running Friday sexual education classes in schools,” Rita says. “And since I have a nursing background, people often come to me with problems, and I give them suggestions and share my knowledge with them.” She also hopes to become a staff nurse for FPAN. “If that opportunity comes my way, then I would definitely love to do it,” she says.

Young nepalese volunteer from IPPF in Nepal, FPAN
story

| 28 March 2024

Thousands of young volunteers join us after the earthquake

The April 2015 earthquake in Nepal brought death and devastation to thousands of people – from which many are still recovering. But there was one positive outcome: after the earthquake, thousands of young people came forward to support those affected as volunteers. For Rita Tukanbanjar, a twenty-two-year-old nurse from Bhaktapur in the Kathmandu Valley, the earthquake was an eye-opening ordeal: it gave her first-hand experience of the different ways that natural disasters can affect people, particularly women and girls. “After the earthquake, FPAN was organising menstrual hygiene classes for affected people, and I took part in these,” she says. The earthquake severely affected people’s access to healthcare, but women and girls were particularly vulnerable: living in tents can make menstrual hygiene difficult, and most aid agencies tend to neglect these needs and forget to factor them into relief efforts. “After the earthquake, lots of people were living in tents, as most of the houses had collapsed,” Rita says. “During that time, the girls, especially, were facing a lot of problems maintaining their menstrual hygiene. All the shops and services for menstrual hygiene were closed.” This makes FPAN’s work even more vital. The organisation stepped into the breach and organised classes on menstrual hygiene and taught women and girls how to make sanitary pads from scratch. This was not only useful during the earthquake, but provided valuable knowledge for women and girls to use in normal life too, Rita says: “From that time on wards, women are still making their own sanitary pads.” In an impoverished country like Nepal, many women and girls can simply not afford to buy sanitary pads and tampons. Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world with gross domestic product per capita of just $691 in 2014. In this largely patriarchal culture, the needs of women often come low down in a family’s priorities. “This is very important work and very useful,” Rita says. The women and girls also learned about how to protect themselves from sexual violence, which saw a surge in the weeks after the earthquake, with men preying on people living in tents and temporary shacks. Rita and her family lived in a tent for 20 days. “There was always the fear of getting abused,” she says. Eventually they managed to return home to live in the ruins of their house: “one part was undamaged so we covered it with a tent and managed to sleep there, on the ground floor.” Seeing the suffering the earthquake had caused, and the work FPAN and other organisations were doing to alleviate it, cemented Rita’s decision to begin volunteering. “After the earthquake, when things got back to normal, I joined FPAN.” She also completed her nursing degree, which had been interrupted by the disaster. “Since joining FPAN, I have been very busy creating awareness about sexual rights and all kinds of things, and running Friday sexual education classes in schools,” Rita says. “And since I have a nursing background, people often come to me with problems, and I give them suggestions and share my knowledge with them.” She also hopes to become a staff nurse for FPAN. “If that opportunity comes my way, then I would definitely love to do it,” she says.

Portrait of Mona
story

| 05 July 2017

Waiting for an ambulance that never arrives: childbirth without medical help in rural Nepal

“When I was about to give birth, we called for an ambulance or a vehicle to help but even after five hours of calling, no vehicle arrived,” recalls 32-year-old Mona Shrestha. “The birth was difficult. For five hours I had to suffer from delivery complications.” Mona’s story is a familiar one for women in rural Nepal. Like thousands of women across the country, she lives in a small, remote village, at the end of a winding, potholed road. There are no permanent medical facilities or staff based in the village of Bakultar: medical camps occasionally arrive to dispense services, but they are few and far between. Life here is tough. The main livelihood is farming: both men and women toil in the fields during the day, and in the mornings and evenings, women take care of their children and carry out household chores. The nearest birthing centre is an hour’s drive away. Few families can afford to rent a seat in a car, and so are forced to do the journey on foot. For pregnant women walking in the searing heat, this journey can be arduous, even life-threatening. “Fifteen years ago, there was a woman who helped women give birth here, but she’s no longer here,” Mona says. “It’s difficult for women.” Giving birth without medical help can cause severe problems for women and babies, and even death. Infant mortality remains a major problem in Nepal, and maternal mortality is one of the leading causes of death among women. Only 36% of births are attended by a doctor, nurse or midwife.  A traumatic birth can cause long-term physical, psychological, social and economic problems from which women might never recover. Access to contraception and other family planning services, too, involves walking miles to the nearest health clinic. Mona says she used to use the contraceptive injection, but now uses an intrauterine device. Like many villages in Nepal, Bakultar is awash with myths and gossip about the side-effects of contraception. “There are so many side effects to these devices – I’ve heard the coil can cause cancer,” Mona says. “This is why we want to have permanent family planning like sterilisation, for both men and women.” These complaints heard frequently in villages like Bakultar. As well as access to facilities and contraception, people here desperately need access to education on contraception and sexual health and reproductive rights. Misinformation as well as a lack of information are both major problems. “It would be really helpful to have family planning services nearby,” says Mona. Stories Read more stories from Nepal Ask for universal access to contraception!

Portrait of Mona
story

| 28 March 2024

Waiting for an ambulance that never arrives: childbirth without medical help in rural Nepal

“When I was about to give birth, we called for an ambulance or a vehicle to help but even after five hours of calling, no vehicle arrived,” recalls 32-year-old Mona Shrestha. “The birth was difficult. For five hours I had to suffer from delivery complications.” Mona’s story is a familiar one for women in rural Nepal. Like thousands of women across the country, she lives in a small, remote village, at the end of a winding, potholed road. There are no permanent medical facilities or staff based in the village of Bakultar: medical camps occasionally arrive to dispense services, but they are few and far between. Life here is tough. The main livelihood is farming: both men and women toil in the fields during the day, and in the mornings and evenings, women take care of their children and carry out household chores. The nearest birthing centre is an hour’s drive away. Few families can afford to rent a seat in a car, and so are forced to do the journey on foot. For pregnant women walking in the searing heat, this journey can be arduous, even life-threatening. “Fifteen years ago, there was a woman who helped women give birth here, but she’s no longer here,” Mona says. “It’s difficult for women.” Giving birth without medical help can cause severe problems for women and babies, and even death. Infant mortality remains a major problem in Nepal, and maternal mortality is one of the leading causes of death among women. Only 36% of births are attended by a doctor, nurse or midwife.  A traumatic birth can cause long-term physical, psychological, social and economic problems from which women might never recover. Access to contraception and other family planning services, too, involves walking miles to the nearest health clinic. Mona says she used to use the contraceptive injection, but now uses an intrauterine device. Like many villages in Nepal, Bakultar is awash with myths and gossip about the side-effects of contraception. “There are so many side effects to these devices – I’ve heard the coil can cause cancer,” Mona says. “This is why we want to have permanent family planning like sterilisation, for both men and women.” These complaints heard frequently in villages like Bakultar. As well as access to facilities and contraception, people here desperately need access to education on contraception and sexual health and reproductive rights. Misinformation as well as a lack of information are both major problems. “It would be really helpful to have family planning services nearby,” says Mona. Stories Read more stories from Nepal Ask for universal access to contraception!

Sophorn
story

| 16 November 2017

"During the pregnancy I was very worried”

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.

Sophorn
story

| 28 March 2024

"During the pregnancy I was very worried”

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
story

| 16 November 2017

“Just yesterday during the outreach service, a woman asked me why she didn’t get her period after having an abortion..."

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."

Pann Chandy
story

| 28 March 2024

“Just yesterday during the outreach service, a woman asked me why she didn’t get her period after having an abortion..."

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."

Sineang
story

| 16 November 2017

“I was very happy when my daughter was born”

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.”

Sineang
story

| 28 March 2024

“I was very happy when my daughter was born”

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.”

IPPF volunteer in Nepal for FPAN
story

| 25 July 2017

Female volunteers take the lead to deliver life critical health advice after the earthquake

“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.

IPPF volunteer in Nepal for FPAN
story

| 28 March 2024

Female volunteers take the lead to deliver life critical health advice after the earthquake

“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.

Young nepalese volunteer from IPPF in Nepal, FPAN
story

| 25 July 2017

Thousands of young volunteers join us after the earthquake

The April 2015 earthquake in Nepal brought death and devastation to thousands of people – from which many are still recovering. But there was one positive outcome: after the earthquake, thousands of young people came forward to support those affected as volunteers. For Rita Tukanbanjar, a twenty-two-year-old nurse from Bhaktapur in the Kathmandu Valley, the earthquake was an eye-opening ordeal: it gave her first-hand experience of the different ways that natural disasters can affect people, particularly women and girls. “After the earthquake, FPAN was organising menstrual hygiene classes for affected people, and I took part in these,” she says. The earthquake severely affected people’s access to healthcare, but women and girls were particularly vulnerable: living in tents can make menstrual hygiene difficult, and most aid agencies tend to neglect these needs and forget to factor them into relief efforts. “After the earthquake, lots of people were living in tents, as most of the houses had collapsed,” Rita says. “During that time, the girls, especially, were facing a lot of problems maintaining their menstrual hygiene. All the shops and services for menstrual hygiene were closed.” This makes FPAN’s work even more vital. The organisation stepped into the breach and organised classes on menstrual hygiene and taught women and girls how to make sanitary pads from scratch. This was not only useful during the earthquake, but provided valuable knowledge for women and girls to use in normal life too, Rita says: “From that time on wards, women are still making their own sanitary pads.” In an impoverished country like Nepal, many women and girls can simply not afford to buy sanitary pads and tampons. Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world with gross domestic product per capita of just $691 in 2014. In this largely patriarchal culture, the needs of women often come low down in a family’s priorities. “This is very important work and very useful,” Rita says. The women and girls also learned about how to protect themselves from sexual violence, which saw a surge in the weeks after the earthquake, with men preying on people living in tents and temporary shacks. Rita and her family lived in a tent for 20 days. “There was always the fear of getting abused,” she says. Eventually they managed to return home to live in the ruins of their house: “one part was undamaged so we covered it with a tent and managed to sleep there, on the ground floor.” Seeing the suffering the earthquake had caused, and the work FPAN and other organisations were doing to alleviate it, cemented Rita’s decision to begin volunteering. “After the earthquake, when things got back to normal, I joined FPAN.” She also completed her nursing degree, which had been interrupted by the disaster. “Since joining FPAN, I have been very busy creating awareness about sexual rights and all kinds of things, and running Friday sexual education classes in schools,” Rita says. “And since I have a nursing background, people often come to me with problems, and I give them suggestions and share my knowledge with them.” She also hopes to become a staff nurse for FPAN. “If that opportunity comes my way, then I would definitely love to do it,” she says.

Young nepalese volunteer from IPPF in Nepal, FPAN
story

| 28 March 2024

Thousands of young volunteers join us after the earthquake

The April 2015 earthquake in Nepal brought death and devastation to thousands of people – from which many are still recovering. But there was one positive outcome: after the earthquake, thousands of young people came forward to support those affected as volunteers. For Rita Tukanbanjar, a twenty-two-year-old nurse from Bhaktapur in the Kathmandu Valley, the earthquake was an eye-opening ordeal: it gave her first-hand experience of the different ways that natural disasters can affect people, particularly women and girls. “After the earthquake, FPAN was organising menstrual hygiene classes for affected people, and I took part in these,” she says. The earthquake severely affected people’s access to healthcare, but women and girls were particularly vulnerable: living in tents can make menstrual hygiene difficult, and most aid agencies tend to neglect these needs and forget to factor them into relief efforts. “After the earthquake, lots of people were living in tents, as most of the houses had collapsed,” Rita says. “During that time, the girls, especially, were facing a lot of problems maintaining their menstrual hygiene. All the shops and services for menstrual hygiene were closed.” This makes FPAN’s work even more vital. The organisation stepped into the breach and organised classes on menstrual hygiene and taught women and girls how to make sanitary pads from scratch. This was not only useful during the earthquake, but provided valuable knowledge for women and girls to use in normal life too, Rita says: “From that time on wards, women are still making their own sanitary pads.” In an impoverished country like Nepal, many women and girls can simply not afford to buy sanitary pads and tampons. Nepal is one of the poorest countries in the world with gross domestic product per capita of just $691 in 2014. In this largely patriarchal culture, the needs of women often come low down in a family’s priorities. “This is very important work and very useful,” Rita says. The women and girls also learned about how to protect themselves from sexual violence, which saw a surge in the weeks after the earthquake, with men preying on people living in tents and temporary shacks. Rita and her family lived in a tent for 20 days. “There was always the fear of getting abused,” she says. Eventually they managed to return home to live in the ruins of their house: “one part was undamaged so we covered it with a tent and managed to sleep there, on the ground floor.” Seeing the suffering the earthquake had caused, and the work FPAN and other organisations were doing to alleviate it, cemented Rita’s decision to begin volunteering. “After the earthquake, when things got back to normal, I joined FPAN.” She also completed her nursing degree, which had been interrupted by the disaster. “Since joining FPAN, I have been very busy creating awareness about sexual rights and all kinds of things, and running Friday sexual education classes in schools,” Rita says. “And since I have a nursing background, people often come to me with problems, and I give them suggestions and share my knowledge with them.” She also hopes to become a staff nurse for FPAN. “If that opportunity comes my way, then I would definitely love to do it,” she says.

Portrait of Mona
story

| 05 July 2017

Waiting for an ambulance that never arrives: childbirth without medical help in rural Nepal

“When I was about to give birth, we called for an ambulance or a vehicle to help but even after five hours of calling, no vehicle arrived,” recalls 32-year-old Mona Shrestha. “The birth was difficult. For five hours I had to suffer from delivery complications.” Mona’s story is a familiar one for women in rural Nepal. Like thousands of women across the country, she lives in a small, remote village, at the end of a winding, potholed road. There are no permanent medical facilities or staff based in the village of Bakultar: medical camps occasionally arrive to dispense services, but they are few and far between. Life here is tough. The main livelihood is farming: both men and women toil in the fields during the day, and in the mornings and evenings, women take care of their children and carry out household chores. The nearest birthing centre is an hour’s drive away. Few families can afford to rent a seat in a car, and so are forced to do the journey on foot. For pregnant women walking in the searing heat, this journey can be arduous, even life-threatening. “Fifteen years ago, there was a woman who helped women give birth here, but she’s no longer here,” Mona says. “It’s difficult for women.” Giving birth without medical help can cause severe problems for women and babies, and even death. Infant mortality remains a major problem in Nepal, and maternal mortality is one of the leading causes of death among women. Only 36% of births are attended by a doctor, nurse or midwife.  A traumatic birth can cause long-term physical, psychological, social and economic problems from which women might never recover. Access to contraception and other family planning services, too, involves walking miles to the nearest health clinic. Mona says she used to use the contraceptive injection, but now uses an intrauterine device. Like many villages in Nepal, Bakultar is awash with myths and gossip about the side-effects of contraception. “There are so many side effects to these devices – I’ve heard the coil can cause cancer,” Mona says. “This is why we want to have permanent family planning like sterilisation, for both men and women.” These complaints heard frequently in villages like Bakultar. As well as access to facilities and contraception, people here desperately need access to education on contraception and sexual health and reproductive rights. Misinformation as well as a lack of information are both major problems. “It would be really helpful to have family planning services nearby,” says Mona. Stories Read more stories from Nepal Ask for universal access to contraception!

Portrait of Mona
story

| 28 March 2024

Waiting for an ambulance that never arrives: childbirth without medical help in rural Nepal

“When I was about to give birth, we called for an ambulance or a vehicle to help but even after five hours of calling, no vehicle arrived,” recalls 32-year-old Mona Shrestha. “The birth was difficult. For five hours I had to suffer from delivery complications.” Mona’s story is a familiar one for women in rural Nepal. Like thousands of women across the country, she lives in a small, remote village, at the end of a winding, potholed road. There are no permanent medical facilities or staff based in the village of Bakultar: medical camps occasionally arrive to dispense services, but they are few and far between. Life here is tough. The main livelihood is farming: both men and women toil in the fields during the day, and in the mornings and evenings, women take care of their children and carry out household chores. The nearest birthing centre is an hour’s drive away. Few families can afford to rent a seat in a car, and so are forced to do the journey on foot. For pregnant women walking in the searing heat, this journey can be arduous, even life-threatening. “Fifteen years ago, there was a woman who helped women give birth here, but she’s no longer here,” Mona says. “It’s difficult for women.” Giving birth without medical help can cause severe problems for women and babies, and even death. Infant mortality remains a major problem in Nepal, and maternal mortality is one of the leading causes of death among women. Only 36% of births are attended by a doctor, nurse or midwife.  A traumatic birth can cause long-term physical, psychological, social and economic problems from which women might never recover. Access to contraception and other family planning services, too, involves walking miles to the nearest health clinic. Mona says she used to use the contraceptive injection, but now uses an intrauterine device. Like many villages in Nepal, Bakultar is awash with myths and gossip about the side-effects of contraception. “There are so many side effects to these devices – I’ve heard the coil can cause cancer,” Mona says. “This is why we want to have permanent family planning like sterilisation, for both men and women.” These complaints heard frequently in villages like Bakultar. As well as access to facilities and contraception, people here desperately need access to education on contraception and sexual health and reproductive rights. Misinformation as well as a lack of information are both major problems. “It would be really helpful to have family planning services nearby,” says Mona. Stories Read more stories from Nepal Ask for universal access to contraception!