Flu pandemic highlights federal failures
The sight, during the Cree Fitness Challenge in Nemaska last month, was a jarring reminder of the flu pandemic that has swept Native communities across Canada’s north. A medical facemask worn by a young girl in order to ward off the H1N1 virus, commonly known as swine flu, was a potent symbol of the failure of the federal and provincial governments to meet this threat.
It might have been easy to forget during the excitement and hoopla of the 14th Cree Fitness Challenge, which was originally conceived as a response to the diabetes epidemic that has beset Eeyou Istchee. But then again, this year’s event was itself very nearly cancelled because of the health emergency.
As Amy German reports in this week’s Nation, Eeyou Istchee has seen 61 confirmed cases of H1N1, with 34 people hospitalized, three in ICU, and one death from the illness. Attendance at this year’s Fitness Challenge was way down because of families staying home to care for sick relatives, noted Nemaska band councillor and Challenge host Matthew Swallow. Others simply decided to stay safe and avoid the crowds, he said. The disease has many parents dreading the beginning of the new school year.
And that’s the key to understanding why the international outbreak of the flu that seemed, in Canada at least, to be under control and declining last spring, suddenly proliferated through northern communities across the country: overcrowding. When multiple generations are sheltered together in a single house, with poor insulation and inadequate or no plumbing, a virus of this type can spread like wildfire.
Add to the housing problem an almost nonexistent health infrastructure in many Native communities and a paternalist (some would say, racist) federal government that initially refused to distribute hand sanitizers to remote reserves on the assumption that alcoholics would try to consume the liquid, and we have the basis for a disaster.
As Gail Turner, a public health nurse with the Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami in northern Labrador, said, federal pandemic plans for remote and isolated northern communities have “guidelines created (that) do not fit, and use a language that is full of false assumptions and hints of colonial bureaucracy.” Turner told Canadian Press that, in northern Labrador, “on a good day, without H1N1, we have no (health care) capacity.”
Among the hardest hit areas are the Cree communities of northern Manitoba. Ron Evans, who heads the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs, has criticized the federal government for not seeming to have a plan for reserves. “Health professionals are comparing this to the 1918 Spanish flu,” Evans told reporters. “We can’t take chances. We can’t be waiting to see what the federal government is going to do.”
As if in response to the bad press, federal Health Minister Leona Aglukkaq flew into Winnipeg last week to announce $135 million for 40 new nursing stations, health clinics and staff residences and 230 renovation projects for Native communities across Canada. Aglukkaq said the feds were prepared to meet the emergency. “Improving the health and well-being of First Nations people is of the utmost importance to our government,” she insisted.
While it is certainly welcome, the new money had already been announced in the federal budget of last January, long before most of us had even heard of the swine flu. According to reports, the government still can’t even give any details on how and where the money will be spent, demonstrating that Aglukkaq was simply playing nice for the TV cameras in advance of an expected election campaign this fall. Meanwhile, residents of impoverished northern reserves have had to raise money themselves for things like hand sanitizers and facemasks.
And Manitoba Grand Chief Evans doesn’t mince words in saying he has no confidence that the federal government is up to the task of prepping for a renewed outbreak of the virus that is expected this fall, despite the government’s fiduciary duty for health care in Native communities. He is still waiting for answers to specific questions he has for Health Canada: Will communities have adequate medical staff? Will there be sufficient hospital beds for patients? How will inaccessible reserves deal with an emergency if severe winter weather prevents medical evacuation flights?
“There should be a plan, there should be more communication,” Evans said. “Words need to become actions.”
One long-term solution to future health crises can be found right here in Eeyou Istchee, where the Grand Council of the Crees has established control over health spending and administration under the Cree Health Board. As Amy German reports, Cree communities received hand sanitizers and information packages much sooner than most Aboriginal communities did elsewhere in Canada.
Another blindingly obvious solution is that Native communities need investment in housing, infrastructure and economic development. Until those basic issues are addressed, Aboriginals living on reserves will continue to bear the brunt of the global pandemics that appear to be growing in frequency and virulence.