Violence

Every child has a right to education and health. But when conflict means the end of learning for millions of children; when health services break down or access is denied; when easily treatable diseases become deadly, we must act. “We have seen it, we know what it is, and now we have to stop it, to tell the world who is responsible for these acts and to work together to use the tools we have to prevent and stop these horrible acts which can scar children for a lifetime,” said Special Representative Leila Zerrougui.

A technical briefing on healthcare workers under attack was held 21 May by WHO in occasion of the 67th World Health Assembly. Attacks on health care workers, patients and health facilities are increasing in many parts of the world. These attacks violate the basic right to health care and reflect a grave lack of respect for International Humanitarian Law, which provides special status and protection to health-care personnel. Violence against the health system limits access to medical services for those who need them most and can have grave public health consequences.

Two thirds of the health facilities in the areas affected by the conflict are reportedly closed or operating at limited capacity. In Jonglei, Upper Nile and Unity states, the state hospitals that usually provide emergency obstetric care services are not functional. Alternative facilities at the periphery have either been looted or destroyed and/or health staff members have fled due to insecurity.

In an interview with the CBC this week, a World Health Organization official delicately blamed “the suspension of the vaccine in one area,” as if Pakistani health officials had committed some sort of careless lapse. This sort of airbrushing ignores the real cause, which is the systematic war the Taliban is waging against female health workers. Since July, 2012, at least 31 polio vaccination workers have been killed and many others have quit in fear of their and their families’ lives.

SITTWE, Myanmar — When the kicking stopped, Zura Begum suspected something was wrong with the twins she was supposed to deliver that month. When the pain started shooting through her body, all doubt was erased. She needed help, but had nowhere to turn. She was trapped with thousands of other Muslim Rohingya in a squalid, dusty camp in western Myanmar’s Rakhine state. The foreign aid workers she had relied on early in her pregnancy were gone — forced out by a distrustful government and extremist Buddhist mobs. Getting help outside the camps, in hospitals run by the Buddhist Rakhine majority, requires special permission that is harder than ever to obtain.