Philippines

Pricely drugs and lack of doctors can make the diseases of poverty even more virulent. Turning instead to self-treatment through medicinal flowers and herbs, some women in the Philippines found they had planted the seeds of an organisation which puts health in a wider social context.

Rosario lived and died in Tanyong, one of the barrios that ring Manila. She suffered the diseases of poverty, just like most of the children there: undernourished and pot-bellied from intestinal parasites. She had frequent bouts of diarrhoea and respiratory infections. But it wasn't until she went down with measles, complicated with coughing and diarrhoea, that her parents took her to the clinic.

The doctor prescribed three drugs to last four days. The bill was 94.5 pesos ($4.50), equivalent to three days' wages for Rosario's father. Since she didn't seem to respond even when the drugs were finished, they did not return to the doctor. She worsened and died.

The Philippines has over 10,000 drugs on the market, but most people cannot afford them. Over thirty per cent of the urban population live below the poverty line. And the poorest live in the barrios or the resettlement areas.

In one of these new settlements live some women who had seen too many children, like Rosario, die. They met through bible-sharing sessions and found the gospel message relevant to the problems they faced themselves — the poverty and suffering of the many against the affluence of the few.

But in January 1979 many women could not come to the study sessions because the community was in the grip of disease — influenza, respiratory illness and gastro-intestinal ailments. They knew that their miserable health was closely linked to their low income, lack of food, and poor housing. But they could hardly do anything about the epidemic because Western medicine was too expensive for them.

And so the women turned to the local herbolario (traditional doctor) and medicinal herbs. They set up meetings for studying the medicinal values of plants, so that they could prescribe treatment for their families and neighbours. 'We started to plant medicinal herbs,' says Anna, one of those involved, 'and without knowing it sowed the seeds of our organisation.'

One month later they launched the Community-Based Health Programme (CBHP). It aimed to inform people about the diseases commonly found in the community and to confront the problem of lack of doctors and the high cost of their drugs.

The residents decided to take their treatment into their own hands. They had planted the seeds of medicinal herbs; now they would gather the leaves, roots, barks and fruits.

'The plants have the same ingredients found in some medicines sold in the pharmacies,' says one of the residents, 'so now, rather than spend money on expensive drugs, we can now channel our money to other immediate needs.'

Soon the group was buzzing with activity. Some women classified the plants according to their medicinal purpose. The idea was to produce a brochure on the plants which could be used by new groups too. Other people took turns to tend to the plants.

By now, several resident groups in the resettlement area were involved in the health project, which was paying off their efforts with improved treatment for the physically sick. And as it grew in size, so its members grew in understanding about the economic and political causes of ill-health, with the help of study groups.

The organisation's name was changed to the People's Health Movement (KPS) to reflect more clearly its wider scope. For, as Anna puts it, 'It is pointless to aim at the treatment of physical disease alone. The bigger disease is the structure disease, the sickness of society.'

Adapted from 'The Struggle Toward Self-reliance of Organised, Resettled Women in the Philippines' in Grass-roots Participation and Self-Reliance. Ed. Md. Anism Rahman. Oxford and IBH Publishing, New Delhi, 1984.