Source: The Guardian News and Media
A midwife from Katine village in Uganda is fronting a campaign to draw attention to Africa's high maternal mortality rates and advocate for ways to reduce it. Priscilla Alupo is propped up on a bed in Tiriri health centre's postnatal ward on a sunny Saturday afternoon in Katine, north east Uganda. Her son, George, is lying by her side. Alupo has a wide smile on her face as she shows him off to visitors.
Esther Madudu, one of the health centre's three midwives, helped deliver George the night before, during a hectic 24-hour shift in which five babies were born. "Most babies are born at night because they were made at night," jokes Madudu as she shows me around the ward. From what she tells me, though, giving birth at night in a health centre that has no electricity is anything but funny.
Madudu and her fellow midwives regularly have to help mothers deliver using the light cast by mobile phones, held in their mouths to ensure the beams are directed where needed.
The electricity supply to the health centre was cut by the Lord's Resistance Army during an attack on Katine eight years ago; it has yet to be restored. And the solar panels on the roof are broken. The centre does at least have mains water, and a borehole if that fails.
The mobile phones will probably be needed again tonight. Jennifer Akajo is in one of the beds in the labour ward, and Madudu – guided by a chart hanging on the wall next to her, which estimates delivery time against dilation – predicts she's still got some way to go. Akajo looks tired and nervous, but says little. Madudu gently rubs her back; it's the only form of pain relief the centre can offer, she says.
Madudu, 31, has been a midwife for 11 years and is clearly passionate about her work. "I grew up wanting to be a midwife," she says. "I love talking about the mothers I help deliver. We deliver 45 to 50 mothers every month, so I save 45 to 50 mothers and babies a month." In the four years since she's been at Tiriri, no mother has died in childbirth.
This week, Madudu will be leaving Tiriri and heading to Deauville in France (her first time out of Uganda), where she will address delegates at the Women's Forum Global meeting, alongside Uganda's minister of health, Christine Ondoa, and with the backing of Uganda's first lady, Janet Museveni. As well as talking about her work and the health challenges faced by women, on Thursday Madudu will launch the Stand Up for African Mothers campaign, organised by the African Medical and Research Foundation (Amref). The NGO hopes its global campaign, which will be fronted by Madudu, will draw attention to the continent's high maternal mortality rates and advocate for ways to reduce it.
According to UN estimates, around 358,000 women die in pregnancy or childbirth every year, usually because they don't have access to basic medical care or trained staff to help them deliver. The majority of the deaths in pregnancy – 280,000 – occur in sub-Saharan Africa. Around 70% of African women do not receive prenatal care and half of all deliveries take place at home without any medical assistance. In South Sudan that figure is almost 95%.
In its report in April, Missing Midwives, the NGO Save the Children estimated that350,000 more midwives are needed around the world to help reduce maternal and child deaths. Without significant extra funds and effort, the millennium development goals to cut death rates among women and children are unlikely to be met in many countries by the 2015 deadline.
Amref, which has been implementing a development project in Katine funded by Guardian readers and Barclays, hopes its campaign will reduce the number of maternal deaths around the world by 25%. It wants to train 30,000 midwives, including 10,000 in Uganda.
The shortage of midwives and healthcare workers is a particular problem in rural areas, such as Katine, where low wages and inadequate housing make it hard to attract and retain staff. Tiriri health centre has only recently managed to hire a doctor, and another three midwives are needed to ease the burden on Madudu and her team.
"No one wants to be in rural places," says Madudu, who over the next three years will travel the world to promote the African mothers campaign. "But when you love your work and want to save the lives of mothers, you go there. That's why I stay in Tiriri. The pay is little, but God pays me because I know I have saved lives."
Joshua Kyallo, Amref country manager for Uganda, said Madudu was the obvious choice to front the campaign. "We are picking someone with whom we have worked in Katine for four years, and we have seen the results of her work. Her professionalism and persona have impressed us all."
Madudu says she is "very glad" Amref chose her, and is quick to point out that her shifts will be covered while she's away from Katine. "I feel good, I feel I am going to share a lot of experiences and defend the fate of the mothers of Africa. I feel we are going to save more mothers and babies.
"My dream was to save lives. When you hear a baby cry on delivery, everyone begins to rejoice."
A midwife from Katine village in Uganda is fronting a campaign to draw attention to Africa's high maternal mortality rates and advocate for ways to reduce it. Priscilla Alupo is propped up on a bed in Tiriri health centre's postnatal ward on a sunny Saturday afternoon in Katine, north east Uganda. Her son, George, is lying by her side. Alupo has a wide smile on her face as she shows him off to visitors.
Esther Madudu, one of the health centre's three midwives, helped deliver George the night before, during a hectic 24-hour shift in which five babies were born. "Most babies are born at night because they were made at night," jokes Madudu as she shows me around the ward. From what she tells me, though, giving birth at night in a health centre that has no electricity is anything but funny.
Madudu and her fellow midwives regularly have to help mothers deliver using the light cast by mobile phones, held in their mouths to ensure the beams are directed where needed.
The electricity supply to the health centre was cut by the Lord's Resistance Army during an attack on Katine eight years ago; it has yet to be restored. And the solar panels on the roof are broken. The centre does at least have mains water, and a borehole if that fails.
The mobile phones will probably be needed again tonight. Jennifer Akajo is in one of the beds in the labour ward, and Madudu – guided by a chart hanging on the wall next to her, which estimates delivery time against dilation – predicts she's still got some way to go. Akajo looks tired and nervous, but says little. Madudu gently rubs her back; it's the only form of pain relief the centre can offer, she says.
Madudu, 31, has been a midwife for 11 years and is clearly passionate about her work. "I grew up wanting to be a midwife," she says. "I love talking about the mothers I help deliver. We deliver 45 to 50 mothers every month, so I save 45 to 50 mothers and babies a month." In the four years since she's been at Tiriri, no mother has died in childbirth.
This week, Madudu will be leaving Tiriri and heading to Deauville in France (her first time out of Uganda), where she will address delegates at the Women's Forum Global meeting, alongside Uganda's minister of health, Christine Ondoa, and with the backing of Uganda's first lady, Janet Museveni. As well as talking about her work and the health challenges faced by women, on Thursday Madudu will launch the Stand Up for African Mothers campaign, organised by the African Medical and Research Foundation (Amref). The NGO hopes its global campaign, which will be fronted by Madudu, will draw attention to the continent's high maternal mortality rates and advocate for ways to reduce it.
According to UN estimates, around 358,000 women die in pregnancy or childbirth every year, usually because they don't have access to basic medical care or trained staff to help them deliver. The majority of the deaths in pregnancy – 280,000 – occur in sub-Saharan Africa. Around 70% of African women do not receive prenatal care and half of all deliveries take place at home without any medical assistance. In South Sudan that figure is almost 95%.
In its report in April, Missing Midwives, the NGO Save the Children estimated that350,000 more midwives are needed around the world to help reduce maternal and child deaths. Without significant extra funds and effort, the millennium development goals to cut death rates among women and children are unlikely to be met in many countries by the 2015 deadline.
Amref, which has been implementing a development project in Katine funded by Guardian readers and Barclays, hopes its campaign will reduce the number of maternal deaths around the world by 25%. It wants to train 30,000 midwives, including 10,000 in Uganda.
The shortage of midwives and healthcare workers is a particular problem in rural areas, such as Katine, where low wages and inadequate housing make it hard to attract and retain staff. Tiriri health centre has only recently managed to hire a doctor, and another three midwives are needed to ease the burden on Madudu and her team.
"No one wants to be in rural places," says Madudu, who over the next three years will travel the world to promote the African mothers campaign. "But when you love your work and want to save the lives of mothers, you go there. That's why I stay in Tiriri. The pay is little, but God pays me because I know I have saved lives."
Joshua Kyallo, Amref country manager for Uganda, said Madudu was the obvious choice to front the campaign. "We are picking someone with whom we have worked in Katine for four years, and we have seen the results of her work. Her professionalism and persona have impressed us all."
Madudu says she is "very glad" Amref chose her, and is quick to point out that her shifts will be covered while she's away from Katine. "I feel good, I feel I am going to share a lot of experiences and defend the fate of the mothers of Africa. I feel we are going to save more mothers and babies.
"My dream was to save lives. When you hear a baby cry on delivery, everyone begins to rejoice."