The Urban Disadvantage – State of the World’s Mothers 2015

state of the worlds mothers 2Every year around Mother’s Day a report is released from Save the Children called the “State of the World’s Mothers.” And every year, I write about it.

Because it is so important to me. If I could spend all day every day with moms and babies, I would. There are so many reasons for this – but partly its because I have five of my own and I learned so much from those younger days. I know what helped and I definitely know what didn’t help. Healthy moms and babies are critical to a healthy world.

In the last 60 plus years, the number of city dwellers in the world has increased by over 20%, so that half the world’s population now lives in the city. While this creates incredible advantages for many of us, there are many others who live in extreme poverty where disease is prevalent, nutrition poor, and violence high. The World Health Organization (WHO)estimates that nearly a billion people live in urban slums, shantytowns, on sidewalks, under bridges, or along the railroad tracks.” One of the worst places in the world for a mom and a baby to be is in a city slum. 

state of the worlds mothersThis year’s report is on mothers in urban settings and is appropriately called “The Urban Disadvantage.” Here are some summary findings, taken directly from the report:

“Every day, 17,000 children die before reaching their fifth birthday. Increasingly, these preventable deaths are occurring in city slums, where overcrowding and poor sanitation exist alongside skyscrapers and shopping malls. Lifesaving health care may be only a stone’s throw away, but the poorest mothers and children often cannot get the care they need.”

  • The world, especially the developing world, is becoming urbanized at a breathtaking pace. Virtually all future population growth in developing countries is expected to happen in cities, resulting in a greater share of child deaths taking place in urban areas.
  • In developing countries, the urban poor are often as bad as, or worse off than, the average rural family, and for many rural families, moving to the city may result in more – rather than less – hardship
  • Few countries have invested sufficiently in the infrastructure and systems, including water and sanitation, which are critical to addressing the basic health needs of the urban poor. More countries need to adopt universal health care as a national policy to help address the unmet needs of the urban poor.
  • While great progress has been made in reducing urban under-5 mortality around the world, inequality is worsening in too many cities.
  • The poorest children in almost every city face alarmingly high risks of death.
  • High child death rates in slums are rooted in disadvantage, deprivation and discrimination.
  • Malnutrition is the underlying cause of 45 percent of deaths of children under 5, leading to over 3 million deaths each year, 800,000 of which occur among newborn babies.
  • Among capital cities in high-income countries, Washington, DC has the highest infant death risk and great inequality. Save the Children examined infant mortality rates in 25 capital cities of wealthy countries and found that Washington, DC had the highest infant mortality rate at 6.6 deaths per 1,000 live births in 2013. While this rate is an all-time low for the District of Columbia, it is still 3 times the rates found in Tokyo and Stockholm.

Here’s the good news: We know what works! This is huge. Save the Children looked at six cities that, despite significant population growth, have made strides in saving children. Again, from the report:

The cities are: Addis Ababa (Ethiopia), Cairo (Egypt), Manila (Philippines), Kampala (Uganda), Guatemala City (Guatemala) and Phnom Penh (Cambodia). These cities have achieved success through a variety of strategies to extend access to high impact services, strengthen health systems, lower costs, increase health awareness and make care more accessible to the poorest urban residents.  1) Better care for mothers and babies before, during and after childbirth; 2) Increased use of modern contraception to prevent or postpone pregnancy; and 3) Effective strategies to provide free or subsidized quality health services for the poor. 

The yearly report always ends with recommendations, and this year is no exception. As a public health nurse, I am always encouraged and discouraged about this report. On the one hand, the statistics are depressing and overwhelming. On the same hand, its all well for a group like Save the Children to talk about what needs to be done, but it is completely different convincing country, state, and city governments that money needs to be given to these efforts.

So where’s the good news? The good news is in places like Heartline Ministries in Haiti. I’ve never been there, but feel like I know two of the midwives who work with Heartline – Beth and Tara – through our email and online interaction. They are two of my “sheros.” Heartline’s mission statement is “Intentionally walking alongside the impoverished men, women, and children of Haiti during their life journeys, meeting critical physical, emotional, financial, educational, and most importantly spiritual needs.” Their maternity center exists to provide prenatal, labor and delivery, and postpartum care to women in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. If you want to know where your money is going to, and want to make a difference, I highly recommend this group. Connect with them on Facebook here.

And the other place I’ve written about before. Shikarpur Christian Hospital has met the needs of moms and babies for years with little recognition and a lot of perseverance. Pakistani and Western staff work hard to give great care to moms and babies in Shikarpur and surrounding areas.

In my public health heart, I know that for real and lasting change to happen, policies are needed at the highest levels. I know that some things are completely impossible without the support of local government. I know in my soul that for real and lasting change, hearts have to change. But while some may say these places are bandaids on a gushing wound, I would say that until we live in a perfect world, thank God for the people who are willing to put on bandaids.

Photo Credit – https://www.pinterest.com/pin/13370130120653125/

Rich Westerners & Muffin Monday

Welcome to Monday! Today I’m sending you to Djibouti Jones to read a challenging article called “When Rich Westerners Don’t Know They are Being Rich Westerners”. This is something I’ve wrestled with, sometimes through emails with Rachel of Djibouti Jones. She has articulated well the problem and struggle and will continue the conversation next Monday. I encourage you to take a look and share your thoughts through commenting on her site. Below is a short excerpt.

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I am not surprised by, but continue to be disappointed in, the western attitude toward the developing world. It is an attitude I see often, though not exclusively, among Christians. It is an attitude of superiority, a god-complex. An attitude that communicates an underlying assumption, intentionally or not, that the rich westerner is the one with power and authority and agency. As this is communicated, of course the opposite is communicated as well. The local person is weak, a victim, and helpless. The rich westerner must charge in to fix things, build things, challenge the status quo.

This happens in blogs, books, movies, songs…And it isn’t just Christians. It is Hollywood and Random House and MTV.

“These kinds of stories…give a paternalistic picture of urban communities as mere recipients. They do not show the heroic community leaders that are in every urban neighborhood, people working hard with little resources and little recognition… Cure for the White Savior Complex by Shawn Casselberry”

For a horrifying example read this article (or don’t and just be satisfied with the title) in Glamour and then the comment section: Meet Mindy Budgor, the World’s First Female Maasai Warrior. Some people call this the white savior complex and there is most definitely an aspect of race involved, the conversations overlap at many points, but it is more than a skin color issue.

One point that must be made is that I am a rich westerner from a Christian background living in the developing world…..Read the rest here.

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Cinnamon Blueberry MuffinsToday’s muffins are Cinnamon Blueberry Muffins. They are beautiful! Click on the picture or here to get the recipe. For other great and creative recipes as well as stories from an expat, head to Food Lust, People Love.

The Children’s Ward – A Guest Post

Hospitals in the developing world are unforgettable – the overwhelming need, the overpowering smells, and the helplessness that one feels are etched in the memory. But they are also unforgettable because often in the midst of all that seems unholy – there are redemptive, holy moments.

Today’s post takes us to a busy, crowded hospital in Swaziland through a guest poster, Lesley Keyter – known by many as The Travel Lady. There will be more on Lesley at the end – for now read on!

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Border between Swaziland and South Africa

As I walk into the hospital I instinctively stop breathing through my nose.

I can’t describe the smell – a mixture of urine, body odour, stale bandages, dust and floor polish. Probably fairly typical of a small under-financed hospital in a poor African country.

In 1986 at only 18 years old King Mswati III was crowned King of Swaziland. At that time he was the youngest king in the world and one of the last absolute monarchs. With a population of a million people this small landlocked Kingdom, sandwiched between South Africa and Mozambique, relied heavily on foreign aid and volunteer organisations.

A corrupt government plus a teenage king with a taste for luxury meant that the country’s most needy were left to fend for themselves.

The hospital corridors are crowded with patients, lying on the floor, sitting in the sun, eating mealies (corn cob). Most of them show signs of horrible wounds with dirty bandages and open sores. Most are laughing and joking – it’s an African thing that even in the middle of the worst situation there is always time for a laugh. The occasional patient lies there silently suffering and in one corner an old woman looks like she is not breathing at all. Her skin is a dusty gray and her wasted legs are covered by a tartan blanket. I have learnt that it is best to keep breathing through my mouth and keep my eyes ahead.

I reach the children’s ward and pass one small ward after another until I get Ward 8. Our small group of children are abandoned but the Swazi Government refuses to believe there is such a thing as an abandoned child. It is contrary to tribal custom. So the children end up here in the hospital, in Ward 8 as long term residents. Our volunteer efforts provide nannies, toys, food and even school fees and school uniforms.

“Aish Medem – I am glad you are here” – Julia greets me as I come in. “I need help with Mandla – he won’t eat his phutu(porridge) and I am busy with the baby”.

Mandla is a hefty 4-year-old with Down Syndrome. He’s quite strong and a handful at times. I get to work, distracting him with my car keys while I shovel the porridge into him while I have the chance. Julia is working with the new baby – just 3 months old already diagnosed with TB and (we are sure but nobody says the word) probably dying from AIDS.

No sooner am I finished with Mandla – a huge clean up involving his face, hands, chair, floor and toys – than Precious needs a diaper change. She is 3 years old and this is the only home she has known. She is still not talking properly. Julia is walking around with the baby (as yet unnamed) with a deep frown making the characteristic clicking noises of disapproval with her tongue.

“What is it Julia?” I ask from the depths of the diaper bucket.

“Hey Medem, I do not know what to do about thees baby. She is very very sick but the doctor he says he is too busy and this one is going to die anyway so he cannot spare the time”. Julia’s eyes fill with tears and I can see that the doctor is right. The baby is so thin – overwhelmed by the diaper. Her breathing is shallow.

“Well maybe we can speak to the Red Cross or Save the Children,” I suggest. Surely there must be someone who can get some help to this baby – give her a fighting chance.

“Well Medem – it is in God’s hands”

Indeed, I think to myself. I’ll see who I can phone when I get home.

I feel a sharp tug at my skirt and look down distractedly. There is Mandla – his characteristic Down Syndrome eyes gleaming with delight. In his hand he has my lipstick and has managed to paint it all over his face. He looks up at me with a big smile –  a glimmer of hope in the Children’s Ward.

About Lesley

As a Navy brat Lesley is no stranger to travel.  She was born in England and in her arrived_logo (3)teens emigrated to South Africa. From there it was just a short hop to the tiny African Kingdom of Swaziland where she lived for 17 years. She now calls Calgary Canada her home and has turned her love of travel to a thriving business known as The Travel Lady.

14 year-old Courage

Warning: This is a rant

Malala Yousafzai is 14. She lives in the Swat Valley of Pakistan, a place where our family spent many lovely vacations. And while Swat is lovely for vacationers, it’s not an easy place to live by any standard.

Malala is not your typical 14-year-old. At age 11 she was writing a blog diary for the BBC under a pseudonym and two years later she was nominated for the International Children’s Peace Prize for her work promoting the right for girls in Pakistan to get an education.

And yesterday she was shot — shot in the head and the neck and is now fighting for life at a hospital in Peshawar. The Taliban proudly claimed the shooting; she has been on a hit list for over a year for her work promoting education and rights for girls. They saw her as a threat, a threat to an ideology and way of life, a threat to who they are. You can read about the shooting here.

It got me thinking about a lot of things. About courage — she stood so boldly for what she believed. About extremism — a 14 year-old girl is a threat in what universe? About apathy — the 14-year-olds I know are interested in boys, sex, Justin Bieber, and New Direction. I’ll take Malala any day of the week. Standing up for education is somewhat nobler than looking forward to getting birth control pills from your school nurse.

I know that’s harsh and I want it to be. 

Because I’m a little tired of this country and our whining. I’m tired of our apathy. I’m tired of watching teenagers and adults who don’t give a rat’s ass for the world they live in and I see it every day. I’m tired of us thinking we have all the answers for a world where 14 year-olds get shot for believing in education. I’m tired of the election and tired of not having worthy leaders. I’m tired of a world that condemns the attack one day, and goes back to being just as awful the next.

I’m tired of myself being a part of this because I’d like to be a little more like Malala. I’d like to be braver, I’d like to stand up boldly for what I believe, I’d like a good dose of 14 year-old courage.

How about you? What are you tired of? What do you want more courage to change? 

Readers – Thanks to CAB reader, Debbie Wood, here is a link to an interview with Malala and her father when she was eleven.

http://portal.sliderocket.com/BBVXH/Hoshyar-Foundation