SHEER natural beauty is what Palawan has always been known for, and what has drawn travelers to its shores. Vast stretches of verdant islands, mysterious mountains, bountiful valleys, and azure seas have beckoned to the adventurous, the restless, and even just the plain curious. And, plunging into its wonders, they have been rewarded by the grandeur of an unspoiled paradise—an experience that never quite leaves them and that leads to what the locals have come to call the “come back come back” syndrome.
The syndrome is even more prevalent these days, now that the one other thing for which Palawan was known, aside from its captivating land and seascapes, is now a thing of the past, thanks to the concerted efforts of community volunteers, the local government, and corporate sponsors.
Residents and would-have-been travelers to the islands remember a time when Palawan was practically synonymous to “malaria,” a infectious disease that turned away all but the most determined and medically-prepared tourists.
Although tourism seemed a natural track for the province, the threat of malaria was a major deterrent for a long time. The barrio folk could not convince visitors otherwise because they themselves were either afflicted or affected by the disease.
Inadequate facilities for early detection and preventive medical help made malaria a constant threat for as long as the Palaw’an tribe could recall. No family, it’s been said, was spared. In the little town of Sofronio Espańola, for example, every family had a member down with malaria at one time or another.
The term “malaria” is derived from the Italian “mala aire”—which literally translates to “bad air,” said to be present mostly in swamps and wetlands. There are 250 million reported cases of malaria fever all over the world and one million deaths every year. In the Philippines, the malaria strain is endemic in some parts of Palawan, Aurora province, and Mindanao. Thick vegetation and marshes make ideal breeding grounds for the carrier mosquitoes, and children under five and pregnant women are the most susceptible.
Poverty spawns malaria. Poor sanitary conditions (as in houses built over swamps) contribute to the breeding of the mosquitoes, while malnutrition weakens resistance to the onslaught of the disease.
But poverty does not necessarily breed inaction. Aware of their plight and having been offered the chance to do something about it, Palaweńos were quick to seize the opportunity.
Fighting malaria
Mang Bito, who belongs to one of the indigenous tribes in Espańola, had just lost his one-year-old child to malaria when he agreed to go into training with the Kilusan Ligtas Malaria (KLM), a project of the Shell Foundation.
He recounts the experience: “We were taught to manage our surroundings, to make sure everything was clean and that coconut husks were upturned so they could not gather water which was a breeding place for malaria-carrying mosquitoes.” Prevention costs far less and is more effective than treatment. Under the program, the locals were also taught about, and provided with, prophylactic drugs, indoor residual spraying, mosquito eradication, and prevention of mosquito bites among the anti-malaria measures.
KLM is the brainchild of a concerned local doctor, Jose Antonio Socrates. The program goes beyond palliatives and deep into finding long-term solutions in the affected areas. A core activity is organizing communities among Palawan’s 344 barangays (villages) to teach them positive health habits and build up their capabilities to deal with the virulent problem.
“The KLM is also into research and advocacy, expanding the reach of a private-public sector partnership which links provincial and local governments and several corporate outreach programs, including the Pilipinas Shell Foundation” explains Marvi Rebueno Trudeau, who heads KLM. The UP Economics graduate used to work as a lobbyist for the Asian Development Bank.
Most of the target sites are in far-flung areas, accessible only by hours of trekking or by banca (boat), so it was important not just to educate but to build up skills that would enable the barrio folk to deal with the threat immediately. Under the KLM, all sites have the capability to detect and cure malaria at its initial stages because they have invested in highly-trained microscopists/health workers in local communities.
“These men and women volunteers undergo intensive studies on microscopy, which enable them to detect the symptoms of malaria, perform blood smear, and determine what the parasite looks like. The patients no longer have to walk hours to get to the nearest doctor, and the disease can be immediately diagnosed and the problem addressed,” Trudeau explains.
Other preventive measures such as the use of long-lasting insecticide infused into polyethylene take the lowly mosquito nets several levels up. This, along with preventive practices integrated into the daily barrio routine, has created a proactive approach instead of the once hapless attitude that endured disease and death passively.
Strong volunteerism spirit
Since the project’s launching, schoolteachers, barangay leaders, health workers, retirees, and housewives have come forward as volunteers. It is, after all, a battle for their health and their children’s.
Says Trudeau: “The KLM staff are out in the field for as long as three months at a time; sometimes they hardly see their families. What keeps the program alive are people and their commitment to the cause of the program, which I want to call some kind of a ’missionary complex’ since they do not gain any monetary benefit commensurate to the hard work they do.”
Like the migrants to Palawan who are active in KLM, Trudeau herself is a “come back” enthusiast who decided to settle in a mountain retreat in the Sta. Lourdes area on her first trip to the province. She and husband Hugh, who works as a district manager for Canada, were drawn to a life of living along nature’s rhythms. From her home, Trudeau has a panoramic view of the sea and the surrounding mountains and valleys, but she can be in the bustling downtown area in minutes.
She recalls the challenges during the initial stages of mobilizing communities—the political glitches, for instance. Though the program is a social outreach of the Pilipinas Shell Foundation and funded by the Global Fund, an international agency that focuses on eradicating malaria, AIDS, and tuberculosis, the community leaders were part of a political structure. Thus the early steps initially faltered because of politics.
“Since we began implementing KLM, I was bent on imposing one imperative rule, and that was to shield it from the politicians’ personal interests,” she says. “And as we were imposing a no-politics rule, it became difficult at first to get local support. But once community best practices started emerging, the others began to participate because they realized that the program had genuine concern to help people.”
Politicians too soon realized that this was way beyond politics. Things began to fall into place and the program has become a study in interlinking community volunteerism, political cooperation, and corporate social responsibility under an overarching umbrella of global concern.
Now on its 10th year, the program has substantially lowered the incidence of malaria from 53,451 cases in 1999 to 9,566 in 2008; deaths plummeted from 99 to 11 cases. Says Trudeau: “I can confidently say that KLM has caused significant impact on the health of Palaweńos in only a few years.”
After its rewarding experience in community-based malaria control practices in Palawan, with the help of Global Fund, the project has expanded to Quirino, Apayao, Tawi-Tawi, and Sulu, while utilizing the structures of the Department of Health and the local government units of the target provinces. The program, reveals Trudeau, is called Movement Against Malaria or MAM.
Each sector has taken on its responsibility but the buck stops with community volunteers such as Manong Bitong, who brings to the ground the small steps and routine tasks necessary to move the program.
“We’re looking for volunteers who have the heart, not necessarily the know-how or even the education,” says Trudeau. “We’re after men and women who love what they do and are truly dedicated to their communities. This is the heart of KLM.”