Case study 1. Inter-ethnic relations, Bu Gia Map commune, Vietnam
Study participants
We conducted a total of 71 in-depth interviews and 40 informal conversations with public/private health staff, village health workers (VHWs), PSI malaria-worker, pharmacists, ex/current malaria patients, families of patients, forest plantation workers, forest security guards, pastors, and grocery-shop and cafe owners. Additionally, we carried out participant observation and held three group discussions with participants from the Stieng and M’nong ethnicities whom we had built trust and received insightful information during our ethnographic study.
Local social and health system organisation
Bu Gia Map commune consist of six villages traditionally inhabited by the Stieng and M’nong ethnic minority populations, with Tay, Nung, and Kinh (Vietnamese) ethnicities as migrant populations. The Stieng and M’nong are culturally distinct from the Kinh majority ethnic group in Vietnam as their customs and subsistence are traditionally dependent on the forest, such as following animist belief and engaging in slash-and-burn agriculture. Nowadays, most Stieng and M’nong in Bu Gia Map are Christian (either Catholic or Protestant) and are farmers engage in cashew, rubber, coffee, and pepper cultivation on plantations.
In Bu Gia Map, there is one commune health centre (CHC), a smattering of pharmacies and private clinics, and one VHW appointed in every village. Most villages are located along the paved road between the CHC and the forests, and the farthest village from the CHC is approximately 5km. Almost all households in these villages have a motorbike, and accessing the CHC is relatively easy. Malaria testing and treatment is provided free-of-charge at the public health facilities (i.e. CHC, provincial hospitals), and incentives are periodically offered to those who seek malaria care by various on-going malaria projects.
Multiple providers and services
There were several PSI collaborating pharmacies around the CHC, many grocery-shops near the villages and forest fringes, and one volunteer malaria-worker tasked with testing (RDTs), prompt referral of positive cases to the CHC or PSI collaborating private clinics in another communes (there were no PSI collaborating private clinics in Bu Gia Map at the time of the study), and reporting test results to the PSI. These collaborators were not assigned to give treatments. Pharmacies and grocery-shops were to administer RDTs to malaria-suspected customers (e.g. with fever). The malaria-worker who was selected by PSI from the ethnic minority group was expected to foster both passive and active case detection among ethnic minorities as well as among forest-goers. However, in reality there were impeding factors for these collaborators in Bu Gia Map to conduct the testing.
Pharmacy and grocery-shop workers commonly cited the close proximity to the CHC, where patients were afforded free-of-charge malaria care, and their own workload made taking on the additional un-incentivised task of testing arduous.
“I treat fever but not malaria. ‘The malaria company’ (PSI) gave me RDTs but I haven’t used it because it’s not my area and it’s not bringing me any benefits. I have no time for it. There’s a CHC right there and the CHC has been working on malaria for a long time so I refer suspected patients to the CHC […] I agreed to collaborate with the company (PSI) because these ‘marketing people’ came many times to persuade me.” – Interview, Kinh pharmacist-1
An awkward tension between pharmacies and the CHC was also noted, as the CHC was receiving monetary incentives under the regional artemisinin initiative for detecting positive cases (as of end 2018). This signified fewer incentives for the CHC when positive cases were referred to elsewhere (i.e. PSI collaborating private clinics), and thus some pharmacies were hesitant to test for PSI.
“The CHC gets incentives for detecting malaria and I’m under CHC’s supervision.” – Interview, Kinh pharmacist-2
None of the interviewed local respondents were aware of the malaria service provided at grocery-shops. Respondents expressed concern in consulting grocery-shops for malaria testing as shop-owners are not medical personnel, and moreover, they showed dissatisfaction in receiving only diagnosis.
“She [shop owner] can test malaria? But who would go to the shop to check for malaria? The shop owner doesn't even have a medical profile so nobody would go there for health concerns. People don’t want just testing, but treatment.” – Interview, M’nong woman
In Bu Gia Map, PSI had appointed a Stieng ‘forest-goer’ as the malaria-worker. However, this forest-goer happened to be the local forest protection officer who lived just a few houses away from the CHC. At the time of the study, malaria-worker said he had conducted only a few tests and found one malaria case since he took this role. Most interviewed local residents or medical personnel did not know of him or his role as a malaria-worker. He explained why people did not visit him for malaria:
“Some people might know about my role as [malaria-worker], but people who feel ill would go directly to CHC as it’s very close to my house. The main reason people don’t consult me about malaria issues is because I’m not a qualified health personnel.” – Interview, Malaria-worker
Why testing was under par?
The Stieng and the M’nong ethnic minorities who traditionally lived in the forest have since been resettled in government provided villages, with their traditional agricultural practices in the forest being banned due to strict forest protection measures. A new land management system redefined the boundary between villages, farming land and protected forest areas, and restricted the locals’ traditional forest-based subsistence and economic activities. As a result, many locals have been evicted from their traditional lands and even jailed.
“There is a ticking bomb tension between us, the indigenous, and the local government. […] We still go to the forest when we need to because that’s how we’ve been living. But now such action is considered illegal.” – Interview, Stieng man
Inter-ethnic tensions as well as the sensitivity surrounding forest work have likewise shaped care seeking behaviour among these ‘hard-to-reach’ populations. Specifically, local distrust of the Kinh by Stieng and M’nong minorities has manifest in the latter’s avoidance of Kinh-run institutions.
“We prefer to have a trusted medical doctor like the one in [another commune] (Stieng). […] Currently medical personnel in our area only want us to be sick so that we would return to them many times.” – Discussion, Stieng and M’nong men
Notably, all pharmacists and grocery-shop owners we visited in Bu Gia Map were Kinh, further impeding malaria testing at these sites. Though the local malaria-worker was Stieng, and could arguably serve as liaison between the local ethnic minorities and health institutions to promote testing, his occupation as a forest protection officer bred antagonism among many local forest-goers whose activities were officially deemed illegal. Moreover, in Vietnam, the public health sector widely covers populations notwithstanding the issue of inter-ethnic tension observed in Bu Gia Map, and there was little space for private and non-health sector service provision.
Case study 2: Navigation in remoteness, Phouvong district, Laos
Study participants
Participant observation along with 48 in-depth interviews, 158 informal conversations, and 18 group discussions with village heads, public health staff, VHWs, pharmacists, ex/current malaria patients, families of patients, farmers and plantation workers, forest workers, dam workers, shop owners and soldiers were carried out.
Local social and health system organisation
There are 22 villages scattered in the Phouvong district: 11 villages are situated within 1-8km of the district-centre, 5 villages 17-34km away from the district-centre; and 6 villages are located in remote areas in the forest fringe or in mountains closer to Vietnam border (37-122km from the district-centre). In the district-centre, there is Phouvong district hospital and 3 pharmacies. There are 5 health centres spread throughout the district, and 1–2 VHW(s) in most of the 22 villages.
The Brao ethnic minority is the predominant ethnic group in Phouvong district, followed by the Kayong and Sadang ethnic minorities. In the 1970s, these ethnic minority groups were officially resettled from their traditional villages in the forest to these 22 government-administered villages. Nevertheless, they continue to maintain a decided presence at their traditional forest lands. The Brao, Kayong and Sadang are traditionally animist (although this is changing especially among Sadang who are slowly converting to Christianity) and consult shamans, conduct rituals (e.g. offer rice, alcohol, animals to the spirits), and rely on herbal medicines for health.
Public-private mix and the village health workers
The PSI Laos strategy reinforced the public-private mix in which specific private health providers, pharmacies, and grocery-shops are also charged with testing and treating or referring malaria cases to the public health sector. The army also has a malaria testing site where PSI Laos had begun collaboration to synthesise the testing numbers and positive cases. In Phouvong, only 3 pharmacies located near the district hospital were participating in the public-private mix initiative. Specifically, the presumed advantage of pharmacy consultancy lies in its easy accessibility and low level of administrative paperwork when compared to public health counterparts.
“Usually people go to the pharmacy to get medicine, then go to the hospital. So the pharmacy is the step between making an offering (to the spirits) and the hospital.” – Discussion, Bankang (5km from district-centre)
Additionally in Phouvong, VHWs, who are appointed by the government and the village head to deal with general health concerns, took on a more focused role as malaria-workers. However, a number of barriers to consulting VHWs were raised by local respondents, among which included the frequent lack of diagnostic and/or treatment tools at the VHWs’ disposal as well as the fact that VHWs had to meet their own work requirements in addition to their work as health providers.
“Someone was sick with malaria, and she went to the VHW. She received malaria medicine without receiving RDT. […] The VHW is also working and it’s difficult to find her.” – Discussion, Phuyang (122km from district-centre)
Moreover, VHWs becoming malaria-workers was perceived as more of a deterrent than an incentive to consult them as respondents considered this shift in functionality to limit VHWs’ competency in treating other illnesses.
“The VHW can just test and give medicine for malaria but other illness he can’t treat. But we don’t know if the illness is malaria or not, that’s why we go to the health-centre.” – Interview, Brao man, Lamong (37km from district-centre)
Are the ‘hard-to-reach’ being reached?
The premise guiding collaboration with pharmacies was to establish another means by which malaria testing would be available. However in Phouvong district, the persistent barrier to maximal coverage remained the considerable distance between pharmacies and remote settlements that could be up to 122km away by unpaved forested/mountainous roads. Closer pharmacists or clinics available to them were across the border in Vietnam, but where health care costs are higher. Residents in remote settlements frequently have to use both boats and motorbikes to cross rivers and make it through treacherous mountain passes. For non-residents (e.g. health staff from the district) who are not familiar with the forest-roads, passing forested and muddy paths is almost impossible especially during the rainy season. Personnel from the district hospital and health centres confirmed that they are unaware of the malaria situation in remote villages during the rainy (high malaria incidence) season because they cannot reach them.
The road conditions to go to [remote] villages are really bad. In the rainy season only motorbikes can go but not cars or trucks. The road has a lot of clay and it is difficult to ride a motorbike there. One motorbike needs 2 people (to assist each other). In the rainy season there are a lot of land leeches on the way, and if we stop to relax on the road, land leeches will catch you. – Participant observation, August, Phuyang
The isolation of remote villages from accessing basic public health services is further reinforced by stereotypes and fears that these ethnic minorities have powerful shamans who can hurt outsiders.
“Many people were working on malaria […], but after a staff from the WHO died of malaria, nobody wants to work on malaria. […] Some people said that the WHO staff who died was killed by the prayers of a shaman in [X village], because he had some villagers working on a project for him but he didn’t pay them because he was unhappy with their work. After that, no one wants to work on malaria, because they are afraid to be killed by a shaman.” – Informal conversation, Health staff
Ethnic minorities relying on shamanism, spiritual rituals, or herbal medicines are often perceived by the health care personnel as a cause of delay in seeking medical care. According to health staff, a “wait and see” attitude with initial uptake of herbal medicines along with the practice of spiritual rituals in which patients and their family members are banned from exiting their house for a few days leads to delay. However, we observed a more complicated conjuncture of conditions (e.g. the state of the roads to a health facility; workload in the farm or forest; severity of symptoms; or availability of cash) guiding people’s choice for care.
“If I have some money, I will go to the health-centre, but if I don’t have money, I will make a sacrifice. (…) I will make a sacrifice first because I don’t have money but I do have chicken for making a sacrifice.” – Informal conversation, Brao woman, Lamong (37km from district-centre)
This narrative also changes depending on the remoteness of the village and its proximity to the health centres.
Huaykood – 8km from district-centre and nearby a health-centre:
“When we feel ill, we go to the VHW to check. If [the result is] negative for malaria, we go to a health-centre, and if negative we go to district hospital. If it is still negative, we apologise and ask forgiveness from the spirit. […] If we don’t recover after the offering, we go back to the hospital.” – Interview, Brao man
Phuyang – 122km from district-centre:
“First, we make a sacrifice, after that we treat ourselves with traditional medicine or herbs at the house, because while making a sacrifice, we cannot go outside (due to the ritual taboo). If the treatment in the house is not complete, we will go to the health-centre.” – Informal conversation, Sadang man
Despite the attempt to increase accessibility to testing and treatment of malaria in Phouvong, the structural obstacles barring access to these services – namely poor infrastructure and considerable distances to reaching the nearest bio-medical health provider – remained as barriers to ultimately reach this goal.
Case study 3: Informal settlements, Cambodia
Study participants
There are new and informal communities in many provinces of Cambodia, mainly in forested and remote areas, that are yet to be officially registered by the government. In some of these communities, we carried out participant observation along with 128 in-depth interviews and 87 informal conversations with community heads, public and private health practitioners, PSI malaria-workers, ex/current-malaria patients, families of patients, Islamic leaders, monks, teachers, shop owners, mobile-shop-sellers, farmers, gold miners, mechanics, and plantation workers. Two group discussions were held in one community.
Local social and health system organisation
Prey Khiev in Mondul Kiri province, Dai Ou Sav in Steung Treng province, Sen Chey and Ou Yeav in Kratie province, Kbal Ou Lang, Snorng On, and Rolous in Kampong Thom province, Pkil and Cheal in Prah Vihear province are new communities located along the forest fringe or inside the forest, in remote areas far from the main roads or towns in each province. Some communities are located geographically close to each other, though access remains difficult due to difficult conditions of the forest paths. These communities are not yet formally registered by the government, mainly due to insufficient household numbers needed to fulfil a registration requirement as a formal community (150 households).
The residents of these settlements are mainly Khmer and Cham (also called Khmer-Muslim) ethnicities, who have migrated to the new communities from different provinces looking for land to live and cultivate on. Some residents were still in the process of clearing the forest or building houses, and would move back and forth between their homelands (to gain income by working on the farm) and the new community (to clear the land or build a house). Some households living in the communities had already settled in the area in the 1970s to escape the Khmer-Rouge. As these communities remain officially unregistered, they lack basic services such as schools and health care. Notably, no VHW had been appointed. Therefore, residents in these unregistered remote communities struggle reaching health care service.
One evening in the Snorng On community, a woman had seizure and collapsed. Many people from the community went to check on her condition. She was unconscious. They discussed bringing her to Tum Rieng (a nearby town) with many health facilities. The motorbike was difficult to bring the patient who was unconscious. The walking tractor was too slow with these bad road conditions. The last option was to carry her in the hammock. Soon the decision was made, neighbours brought hammocks and put the patient in them. Almost every household of Snorng On was there to help, and about 100 people walked/ran so that they could rotate carrying the patient every 300-500m. Some motorbikes accompanied to light the way with the bike lamp. Other motorbikes led the way praying to Nak Ta (the guardian spirit) along the way with rice and incense. Others put grasses on the patient’s head hoping her condition would get better. They all ran about 13km, taking them 2.5hours, until they reached close to the main road and found a car that took the patient to Tum Rieng. – Participant Observation, Snorng On, July 2019
In this setting, self-treatment or informal health care providers have gained popularity. Informal health providers are community members who diagnose and treat illness, including malaria, with a variety of medicines, injections, and infusions, and offer free-of-charge shelter and food during treatment. Often, informal health providers were combat medics for the Khmer-Rouge, trained to care for soldiers, but without having an official medical certificate. Community members are usually aware that informal health providers lack official medical certification; nevertheless, they visit these providers as their care is perceived to be good. Most importantly, these providers are the most easily available and accessible, even though malaria diagnosis and treatment can cost around 300,000KHR (± 75USD) or more, while it is free-of-charge at public health facilities.
Community elected malaria-workers
Due to the 2018 ban on the private sector malaria testing and treatment in Cambodia, there were no private health care providers collaborating with the PSI. Consequently, PSI Cambodia focused on collaboration with community malaria-workers who are trained to conduct RDTs, treat positive cases, refer cases when necessary, and report the number of RDTs and positive cases to PSI. PSI Cambodia strategy was established through a yearlong community engagement process and based on the learnings from the project implementation and evaluation in Vietnam.
Malaria-workers were appointed through a PSI supported community engagement process whereby community members selected candidates and then elected their representative malaria-workers. This election process itself served as a proclamation in a community about newly appointed malaria-worker(s) and their new role.
“I was in the [malaria-worker] election process, that’s why I know (about malaria-worker). I’m happy with the result because now we don’t have to travel too far.” – Interview, Cham man, Prey Khiev
Being recognised by their community in their new function seemed to more greatly encourage malaria-workers to conduct testing, particularly active case detection, which requires visiting households in remote areas or the deep-forest.
“I can go and test because I know people. I go to worksites [in remote areas] every 2–3 days [for active case detection duty]. I bring RDT and medicines there, and I test people who suspect malaria. They live in the hut and road condition there is bushy. […] People there go to [a] health-centre, but they need a boat to get there and takes about 2 hours.” – Interview, Malaria-worker, Rolous
In addition to malaria care, the PSI sponsors malaria-workers to provide Orasel (vitamin-supplements) and condoms (except in Muslim populations) in an effort to widen their services to beyond that of malaria. Orasel was welcomed by recipients who perceived the vitamin to help with malaria treatment and who otherwise would have gone to a private clinic or an informal health care provider to similarly receive an infusion in order to “regain energy” for a quick recovery. It also motivated people to visit malaria-workers for consultations beyond malaria care.
“My son had diarrhoea so we went to [malaria-worker].” – Interview, Khmer woman, worksite near Rolous
What was recognised in unrecognised communities?
Appointing malaria-workers through a system of election where community members were actively involved in the transparent appointment of piers for this new function was successful. This process more readily fostered acceptance and acknowledgement of the malaria-workers and their new role in the community.
“There are several points [why he was chosen as malaria-worker]. He is friendly and kind. He supports others, and he doesn't look down or pity other people.” – Interview, Cham woman, Dai O Sev
Malaria-workers who are residents of remote and unregistered community understood well the complexity of activity and mobility patterns that are due to: i) new settlers fluctuating between their homeland and the new community; ii) engagement in multiple diverse activities to sustain income (e.g. hunting, fishing, gold mining, logging, forest-vegetable collection, and plantation work); and iii) travelling to access basic services such as health care, markets, centres of education in nearby (but difficult to reach) towns. All of these activities and movements involve forest-going to some extent or another, as all communities are located at the forest fringes and/or in the forest. Most adults in these communities, both men and women, frequently go to the forest or deep-forest either for a short period of time (i.e. 1-7days) or medium-long period of time (i.e. one week up to a few months) for economic and self-subsistence activities (Table 1). Malaria-workers have social ties with people and they share information about forest-going, and therefore they are aware of the profile and schedule of people going to the forest/deep-forest, which allowed them to more easily reach the ‘hard-to-reach’.
Table 1
Example of diversification of activities in Cambodia
Activities
|
With
|
No. of stay
|
Sleep
|
Protection
|
Season
|
Plantation
(around houses)
|
Family, Labourers
|
NA
|
House
|
Bed-net
|
Rain
|
Plantation
(owned by company)
|
Family, Friends
|
Weeks - Months
|
Company’s hut
|
Bed-net
Hammock-net
|
All
|
Mountain rice-field
|
Family
|
A day
|
NA
|
NA
|
Rain
|
Collect vegetables
|
Alone, Family, Friends
|
Daytime
|
NA
|
NA
|
All
|
Cutting woods
|
Family, Friends
|
2–10 nights
|
Outside / simple hut
|
Hammock-net or nothing
|
All
|
Gold mining
|
Family, Labourers
|
A day - Months
Months
|
Hut
Hut
|
Bed-nets
Bed-nets, Hammock-net or nothing
|
Rain
|
Hunting
|
Alone, Friends
|
A day
Hunt at night
Few nights
|
NA
NA
Outside
|
NA
NA
Hammock-net or nothing
|
All
|
Fishing
Mountain stream
|
Alone, Friends
|
A day
2–3 nights
|
NA
Simple hut
|
NA
Hammock-net or nothing
|
All
|
Importantly, we remarked that the notion of ‘forest’ was not static. While outsiders (e.g. malaria projects, health staff, officials) perceived these communities to be situated in the forest, local residents differentiated the village, the cleared areas in the forest for plantation work, the forest, and the deep-forest. Moreover, this differentiation was also contingent on how long ago the respective residents had settled in the area. This heterogeneous distinction of ‘forest’ similarly manifested in heterogeneous malaria risk perceptions.
R1: “The ones who go to the forest have more risk of malaria: gold miners and forest-goers.”
R2: “Not only in the forest, but here in the village you also have risk. Because here is in the forest.” – Discussion, Men, Rolous
Additionally in Cambodia case, community members’ familiarity of consulting non-medical informal health care providers supported malaria-workers not being professional medical personnel. Furthermore, people's preference for receiving ‘energy’ infusions (replaced by Orasel) worked positively for malaria-workers perceived work capacity.