This doctor, along with wife Rani, has
helped infant mortality rates dip from 121 to under 30 in tribal
Gadchiroli.
In the mid-1980s, Gadchiroli, dubbed the most “backward” place in
Maharashtra, appeared to hit a very elusive goal for much of the rest
of the country: it had the best record in the state for family planning
targets.
In reality, the district was a public health disaster. Statistics that
showed a slowing population growth simply masked a grim truth—the
district had an exceedingly high child mortality rate.
The Union government now plans to replicate the ‘home-based neonatal
care’ model developed by Abhay Bang and his wife
Starkly, more than one in 10 babies born in Gadchiroli would not make
it past their first birthdays as a mortality rate of 121 for every
1,000 live births marked this district in south-eastern Maharashtra.
Today, this rate in Gadchiroli has plummeted to less than 30, far below
the national average of 58. The credit for this transformation goes to
two doctors, Abhay and Rani Bang, who gave up opportunities to pursue
lucrative careers after graduating from the prestigious Johns Hopkins
School of Public Health in Baltimore, and came here instead.
“We believed that children here didn’t have to wait till circumstances
improved for them to have a better chance at survival,” says Abhay Bang.
For as long as anyone could remember, the people of Gadchiroli followed
rudimentary birthing practices, which partly contributed to the high
mortality rates. Soap or disinfectants were never used. A sickle was
used to cut the umbilical cord and a paste of mud and oil was applied
on the stump. Cold water would be poured on newborns to make them cry.
Breastfeeding would be initiated after three days because villagers
here believed the initial milk to be impure.Such was the Gadchiroli the
Bangs came to in 1986.
In 1950, Dr Abhay was born to parents who believed in the Gandhian
welfare movement known as Sarvodaya. “I spent my early childhood in
Gandhi’s Sevagram ashram, in the company of luminaries like Acharya
Vinoba Bhave,” says Dr Abhay, referring to the man who is considered
the spiritual successor of Gandhi. “These influences have shaped me to
a large extent.”
One of his earliest defining moments was a conversation with his elder
brother Ashok as they cycled through the countryside in Wardha. “We
have to decide what we want to do with our lives,” Ashok said.
After a 10-minute discussi-on, the two concluded that the country’s
main needs were food and health care—and chose their vocations
accordingly. While the older brother went on to study agricultural
sciences, Dr Abhay took up medicine. He graduated from Nagpur
University and enrolled at the Postgraduate Institute of Medical
Education and Research (PGIMER) at Chandigarh for his medical degree.
There, he was agitated to see the government spending significant sums
of money to train doctors—only to lose them to the US.
Disillusioned, Dr Abhay left the institute, despite being a topper, and
started an organization called Medico Friend Circle to engage medical
professionals in working for the poor in rural India.
He eventually returned to Nagpur University to complete his
postgraduation—and met his future wife.
Rani Chary hailed from an Iyengar family and was inspired to pursue
medicine by following in the footsteps of her father, who was a general
physician. The youngest of five children, Rani’s parents had big dreams
for her. She, however, was drawn to the idea of working with the rural
poor.
“My family initially resisted the idea,” she recalls. “My father wanted
me to go abroad and study and probably look at practising in a big
city.”
After she completing her training as a gynaecologist, the two doctors
got married. Even their marriage was shorn of any extravagance. “We had
a very simple ceremony. We didn’t even have rice thrown because Abhay
thought it would not be right when so many people don’t have food to
eat,” recalls Dr Rani. The couple moved to Wardha to join Chetna Vikas,
another non-profit organization started by Dr Abhay’s family.
Dr Rani took to the Gandhian life wholeheartedly, including wearing
khadi, which she continues to do even today.
The doctor couple began working in the villages in Wardha district,
beginning a period of intense education about the realities of life in
rural India. During this period, they realized that their training as
clinicians was inadequate to address larger health-care issues as they
had no grounding in community health or research. “To develop
sustainable solutions, we had to adopt a community-based approach. This
necessitated conducting research, based on which we could develop new
knowledge and practical, replicable public health models,” says Dr
Abhay.
They left India and enrolled at Johns Hopkins, one of the best public
health institutes in the world, to acquire these skills and degrees in
public health.
And then they chose to return.
They picked Gadchiroli, a largely tribal district that subsists mostly
on forest products such as bamboo, tendu leaves (used in making bidis)
and firewood, about 175km from Nagpur. According to the Bangs, they
chose Gadchiroli because it was the most backward region in the state:
“It is best to go where the need is greatest,” Dr Abhay says.
They moved to the district with their two sons, Anand and Amrut, at
that time six years and six months old, respectively.
The two doctors were convinced that they could reduce the burden of
child deaths even in this limited resource setting. Through research,
they identified the main causes for infant mortality in the region and
devised a strategy of home-based neonatal care to address them. The
strategy involved teaching dais (traditional birth attendants) and
village health workers to conduct deliveries, care for newborns,
diagnose and treat illnesses, including pneumonia, the leading cause of
deaths among children.
Today, when the health workers set out to make calls, they carry with
them a medical kit that contains iron and calcium tablets, ointments,
artificial nipples and medicines for respiratory tract infections.
Sometimes they even carry a device called a “breath counter”, developed
by Dr Abhay, which is used to diagnose pneumonia. The dais’ accuracy in
pneumonia diagnosis is as high as 82%.
It took the Bangs more than five years to bring down the infant
mortality rates through research and implementation of their findings.
A subsequent project implemented in other districts of Maharashtra saw
infant mortality rates drop to 33 in less than three years.
The workers are as efficient as most trained paramedics, using
disinfectant, gloves and sterilized scissors for deliveries. They can
even perform vaginal examinations, diagnose and treat some
gynaecological diseases, and give injections—commendable considering
most of them cannot even read.
The success of this effort, which came to be called the “Gadchiroli
model”, has earned acclaim for the doctors and their organization, the
Society for Education, Action and Research in Community Health, better
known as SEARCH. In fact, the government now plans to replicate the
“home-based neonatal care” model to bring down infant mortality rates
across the country. The model involves a standard protocol in which the
village health workers receive training.
In its latest annual report, the ministry of health and family welfare
cites Bangs’ work: “The Government of India has recently approved the
implementation of home-based newborn care (HBNC), based on the
Gadchiroli model, where appreciable decline in infant mortality rates
has been documented on the basis of work done by SEARCH.”
The project will be piloted in two districts each in Madhya Pradesh,
Uttar Pradesh, Orissa, Rajasthan and Bihar. Accredited social health
activists will be trained on aspects of newborn care, including
injecting antibiotics for diseases such as sepsis and pneumonia. The
government hopes that this will reduce infant mortality rates from the
current level of 64 per 1,000 live births in rural India to 27 per
1,000 births by 2015. The average infant mortality rate for the country
is 58 per 1,000 births.
Other developing countries, too, have shown an interest in replicating
the model developed by the Bangs.
Last November, key decision makers from African countries such as
Ethiopia, Kenya, Uganda, Zambia, Malawi, Mozambique and Madagascar
visited Gadchiroli to study the pioneering work that the two doctors
have done on newborn care. The African continent has a high burden of
infant mortality, with more than one million babies dying within the
first month of birth. With SEARCH’s help, many of these countries are
now working on developing their own programmes to reduce infant
mortality.
Though the two doctors are best known for their work on infant
mortality, their contribution spans various aspects of community
health. Dr Rani led the first study to identify the burden of
gynaecological diseases among rural women and they have also been
involved in conducting de-addiction programmes in rural Maharashtra,
where alcoholism is rampant. They set up the only hospital and research
centre, called Shodhgram (meaning research village), on the outskirts
of the tribal region. The 20-bed hospital, with its cluster of
single-level, hut-like structures, looks like a cross between a
Gandhian ashram and a tribal village.
At the gates of Shodhgram is a temple of the tribal goddess Danteshwari
and the hospital itself is called Maa Danteshwari Dawakhana.
The architecture of the hospital building resembles a tribal house;
living chambers surround an open space and verandas traverse the
chambers.
“People here are indebted to the doctors and to SEARCH, especially
those who have survived snake bites due to the treatment provided at
the hospital and those that have been cured from alcohol addiction
through the de-addiction programmes,” says Tushar Khorgade, a local who
has been working with SEARCH for more than a decade.
According to Khorgade, the most significant change has been that now
even the traditional doctors from the tribal regions contact the
hospital for medical help.
For their work, the Bangs have received awards from the non-profit Save
the Children and the MacArthur Foundation, among many other
recognitions. Besides the public accolades, the doctors have inspired
countless young medical professionals.
“Their pioneering work in infant mortality has been instrumental in
bringing this issue to light. They have also demonstrated that such
major issues can be dealt with efficiently with the right inputs,” says
Dhananjay Kakde, project officer at Sathi, a non-profit that focuses on
healthcare research and advocacy for the well being of the
disadvantaged people, including the rural poor. “What’s most important
is that they have shown this works in reality and not just in some
academic research.”
Sixty in Sixty is a special series that we are running through 2007,
the 60th anniversary of India’s independence. We will introduce you to
sixty Indians—both here and abroad—who are not rich or famous. These
are people who are making quiet, but important, contributions without
seeking headlines, to help make India and, in some cases, the world a
better place. We also welcome your suggestions on people whom you think
should be profiled in this series.
http://www.livemint.com/2007/10/03002626/Giving-a-new-meaning-to-public.html
Copyright © 2007 HT Media.