|
The New York Times
By CARLOTTA GALL
Afghan Motherhood in a Fight for Survival
May 25, 2003
Maleka, a birdlike woman of 30 with a wizened face, lay on the floor
on a flat cushion, wrapped in a woolen shawl. Hours earlier, she had
given birth to her sixth child, who, like three others before him, had
not survived.
Afghanistan has among the world's highest rates of both infant mortality
and maternal death because of difficulties during pregnancy or during
childbirth. In this poor farming village in the Panjshir Valley northeast
of the capital, Kabul, the death of Maleka's son was not unusual. That
was clear from the relatives sitting with Maleka. Her aunt said she
had lost 6 of the 10 children she had borne. Her mother-in-law had lost
one of her six children, another relative had lost four. Maleka's sister-in-law
was nursing a fragile infant girl, born prematurely just two weeks earlier.
Millions of women across rural Afghanistan live in
a constant cycle of pregnancy and birth through most of their adult
lives with little or no medical care. It is not uncommon to meet mothers
of 10 or 15 children, and they seem old before their time from the physical
strain. The combination of poor health and nutrition, lack of skilled
medical care, the remoteness of their villages and the cultural traditions
that forbid women from seeing male doctors all take a toll on women
and their children.
The maternal mortality rate in Afghanistan is the
highest in the world, according to Dr. Peter Salama, director of Unicef
in Afghanistan. Final results of a study conducted last year by Unicef
and the Atlanta-based Centers for Disease Control and Prevention are
to be released in coming weeks and are expected to show a national ratio
of more than 2,000 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births. Afghanistan
also has the fourth highest rate of infant mortality and deaths of children
under 5, ranking behind only Sierra Leone, Angola and Niger, according
to Unicef. Babies whose mothers die in childbirth have only a one in
four chance of surviving to their first birthday, Dr. Salama said.
Almost half of the deaths of Afghan women from 15
to 49 are caused by complications during pregnancy, or by childbirth
itself, the study found. The researchers state that 87 percent of the
maternal deaths they investigated could have been prevented with better
medical care. It is not known how many children die during childbirth
or its complications, but nearly a quarter of the maternal deaths investigated
in the survey resulted from obstructed labor, which means that in most
cases the baby died with its mother before delivery
Death rates vary significantly between Afghanistan's urban and rural
populations, with the rural areas, where there are few skilled medical
professionals and no comprehensive medical care, far worse off. Only
6 of Afghanistan's 32 provinces have hospitals that can perform blood
transfusions and Caesarean sections. Foreign health experts working
in Afghanistan foresee no quick solution to the alarming mortality rates
of mothers and young children.
The entire life cycle of women here is to blame, Dr. Salama said. In
addition to inadequate medical care, he cited poor nutrition; stunted
growth, which causes difficulties giving birth; a lack of education;
teenage marriages and women's low social status.
Overcoming these obstacles will take years. None of the women in Maleka's
extended family, for example, has ever made the six-hour journey to
Kabul, which has the closest maternity hospital, to give birth. All
delivered their children at home, with just the help of female relatives
and, in the last few years, of Bibi Gul, a village woman with some rudimentary
training in assisting at births. An illiterate mother of five, Mrs.
Gul has been working for 30 months at an outpatient clinic for mothers
and children here in Safed Cheher. She arrived just before Maleka gave
birth, but was unable to help.
Although Safed Cheher is fortunate in being one of the few villages
to have such a clinic, only a small percentage of the women living in
the surrounding area visit it, according to Myriam Modrin, a French
midwife working with Aide Medicale Internationale, or A.M.I., a French
agency that runs the clinic. "If they live far away from the clinic,
they have to walk, so they do not come," she said.
In a society in which women rarely leave their family compound and never
show their face to a male other than their husbands or blood relatives,
Afghan village women rarely see a doctor at all. The few doctors who
work in rural areas are invariably male. Female doctors and other health
workers tend to work in the cities, given the cultural restrictions
on women's movements in villages.
Most village women, for their part, are illiterate and cannot qualify
for any medical work beyond that of assistant midwife, said Zakia Kohistani,
an Afghan midwife who trains women through A.M.I. Mrs. Gul said that
when she first began working for the French agency two and a half years
ago, she spent months visiting women in their homes with a French midwife,
trying unsuccessfully to persuade them to visit the clinic. "The
husbands did not want to send their wives to the clinic," she said.
"When a woman dies or is sick it is no problem for the husband.
They do not bring them to the clinic."
Sometimes the men's desire to preserve the family honor runs stronger
than their concern for the women, said Ms. Kohistani, 25, who worked
for three years in an A.M.I. hospital in eastern Afghanistan. More than
once, she said, husbands refused to allow a male surgeon to operate
on their wives, even when they were in mortal danger. She described
anesthetizing one woman who had a ruptured cervix, and secretly bringing
in the surgeon in order to save the woman. "We saved her life,"
she said. "No one in the family ever knew she had been attended
to by a male surgeon." Illiterate village women can also suffer
through the ignorance of poorly trained health workers, or by heeding
superstitious traditions or even harmful if well-intended advice from
the local mullah.
One patient from the village of Khenj, a few miles downriver, who recently
visited the clinic here had lost 10 of her 15 children, Ms. Modrin said.
All 10 had died within two months of birth, probably from malnutrition
because their mother, on instructions from the local mullah, had tried
to give them cow's milk instead of breast- feeding them. "I would
like to meet the mullah of Khenj," Ms. Modrin said.
During four days of consultations in Safed Cheher, Ms. Modrin found
herself constantly reassuring women that breast-feeding was beneficial
for their babies. Ms. Modrin said another of her patients had been in
labor for hours with her first baby until her family finally took her
to a hospital that delivered it by Caesarean section. Even after that
experience, she tried to deliver the second baby at home. That baby
was also malpositioned and died, while the mother's uterus was so badly
ruptured that she will never have any more children.
"There is no idea of preventative care," Ms. Modrin said.
Women, she said, "usually come to the clinic only when they have
pain," not for regular examinations during pregnancy. Most of her
30-odd patients on one day were not pregnant, but desperate to become
so. Such is the pressure on Afghan women to have large families, particularly
sons, that women had been medicating themselves with fertility drugs
and having too many pregnancies too close together, she said. A 19-year-old
came in with powerful drugs purchased in Kabul to stimulate ovulation,
and she was asking how and when she should take them. Another 20-year-old,
already the mother of two, was worried that she had not become pregnant
since her last baby, who was 2 years old.
"It is a huge problem here for women who have not had children,
or who cannot," Ms. Modrin said. "It is a catastrophe."
The older women, among them a mother of 12, said they were weary of
constant childbearing, but hesitated to take any advice about family
planning because they said their husbands would oppose it. As for Maleka,
who has only two children after the death of four others, there was
no question whether she would try for more children. "Of course
she will," one of the older women answered for her.
|