CHRISTINE MCNAB
April 26, 2012
We’re walking up a mountain and Dr. K.C. Ram’s phone doesn’t stop ringing. He answers every single call without breaking stride. He talks emphatically into the receiver as we march upwards, the snow-capped Himalaya lording over this Nepali valley.
As he effortlessly walks, talks and works, Dr Ram is leading us to a remote village to witness Nepal’s first measles and rubella campaign.
“In many places we get to the village, but the houses themselves may be a one-hour walk apart,” he tells me as he points to distant communities perched on the sides of mountains around us.
Dr Ram is the District Medical Officer in Bahjang – one of Nepal’s most remote areas.
“Remote” is not an overstatement. Dr Ram is responsible for 47 village areas. He can drive by vehicle to just six. He has to walk up and down mountains and through valleys to reach the remaining forty-one. The furthest village is a four day journey on foot.
The thing is, Dr Ram has walked to every single one of them. It’s not in his job description – he could actually manage a lot of the work by phone or divide up the areas with his colleagues- but he did it anyway.
“I wanted to visit our female community health volunteers – all 4,423 of them – to help motivate them in our newborn program. It was important to see them and thank them in person as they are the backbone of our health system,” he tells me.
The day I spent with Dr Ram we walked up and down the mountains for twelve hours and didn’t return to the sleeping quarters until three hours after dark. An extraordinary day for me was a normal day for Dr Ram.
Dr Ram recently wrote me to say that his district, Bahjang, had surpassed its targets in the measles/rubella campaign in every single village – no matter how high and no matter how far on foot. Incredible.
Fast forward to a very different scene in Myanmar a few weeks later. In roasting 104°F (40° C) heat we traveled from post to post by vehicle in and around Taungoo city to help monitor the country’s measles campaign.
Of the many dedicated health workers I met in Myanmar, one woman particularly stood out.
We met Khin Hnin Yi in a Buddhist temple converted to a temporary immunization post for the campaign.
Framed against serene, gleaming statues of Buddha, she expertly prepared syringes and vaccinated child after child while nurses in training looked on.
“This campaign is good for children, especially for children from poor families,” she told me.
She told me it was her 33rd year of service. Thirty-three years of caring for the health of her community! We did a back-of-the-envelope calculation. Khin Hnin Yi had protected more than 12,000 children against vaccine-preventable diseases over the course of her career.
She has vaccinated the children of babies she had immunized thirty years ago – in some cases even their grandchildren. To many of these people, Khin Hnin Yi is like an aunt or sister and she says this tight community bond makes her happy.
I talked to her about the measles in the community. She told me the cases have dropped dramatically over the years due to vaccination.
During this campaign she would vaccinate about 200 children per day as Myanmar aimed to reach more than six million children under five years of age.
“This campaign is good for children, especially for children from poor families,” she told me.
And then she got back to work.
The Measles & Rubella Initiative provided indispensable funding for Nepal and Myanmar’s campaigns. But the success of these campaigns depends on the dedication of people on the front line - like Dr Ram and Khin Hnin Yi – just two of my vaccinator heroes.
You can see more about Myanmar’s campaign here, and Nepal’s in this photo essay.
The Measles & Rubella Initiative also has a new video you can watch here.