In the teeming city of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, millions of people have no reliable water supply.
Many of the underground pipes that did exist were ruptured by the 2010 earthquake. Many public water kiosks are dry.
So life for most people is a constant struggle for water. And now that cholera has invaded Haiti,
safe drinking water has become Haiti's most urgent public health
problem. Contaminated water is the main cause of cholera, which has
sickened 530,000 Haitians since late 2010 and killed more than 7,000.
In
Port-au-Prince, street vendors sell water in plastic baggies for a few
pennies. Much of the city's water supply is trucked in by commercial
vendors or a dwindling number of nongovernmental organizations that took
on the task after the quake.
On one
busy street corner, just outside one of the city's biggest slums,
people with plastic buckets jostle to get to a length of garden hose
that snakes out of a hole in the pavement — a source of free water.
A
young woman named Marlene Lucien controls the hose. A self-appointed
keeper of the peace, she tries to prevent fights from breaking out.
Is
it safe water? "We are used to it," someone replies. "It's the water we
use every day." But another person waiting in line says she does worry
about cholera. "We are scared of it because it can kill you within
hours," she says. But she has no choice; she has to drink whatever water
she can get.
Haiti has never had
the kind of water systems that developed nations take for granted. Chalk
it up to decades of dysfunctional governments and unreliable international aid. Whatever the reasons, it's never happened.
In the countryside, clean water is even harder to come by.
In
the tiny rice-growing village of Ballange, 50 miles north of
Port-au-Prince, people have taken their water from the Artibonite River
for generations. "They spent many years drinking it and they had never
been sick," says Absolue Culberte, a community leader.
Then,
18 months ago, things changed. "Suddenly, [people] started being sick,"
Culburte says. "They were scared because they didn't know what was
going on."
Cholera had entered the Artibonite River, Haiti's longest, 60 miles upstream — most likely from a leaky latrine at a United Nations camp for peacekeeping troops, who carried it from Nepal.
Many people in Ballange got sick, and some died.
Now,
cholera is entrenched in the environment. With the coming of the spring
rains, cholera cases are beginning to climb again in the Artibonite
Valley.
But this spring, there's
reason to hope it will skip over Ballange. That's because the village
has a brand-new water treatment system. A U.S.-based charity called Water Missions International installed it, along with systems in a couple of dozen other villages.
Two big tanks provide plenty of clean water for about 3,000 people. The system cost about $25,000.
Ballange
is a bright spot in Haiti's quest for clean water. But a few miles
upriver, in a village called Ote Dibison, there's a grimmer reality.
Another international aid group put in a similar water purifier in 2009. But it broke down just before the cholera outbreak.
Silencier
Bonhomme, a member of the local water committee, says all it would take
to fix the system is a couple of new batteries and a new pipe. But when
villagers tried to reach the aid group, they didn't get a response.
"We
don't have anyone who can fix it," Bonhomme says. "People now are using
water from the river, and they get sick. We're getting close to two
years since it broke down."
Other villages have the same problem. Water purifiers were put in, but they broke down, and villagers weren't able to fix them.
A
hundred miles southwest there's an even bigger failure, in a seaside
area called Petite Riviere des Nippes on Haiti's long, westward-pointing
peninsula.
Nine years ago, the
Haitian government built an elaborate water system there. It was
designed to pump water from a pristine, protected stream to a hilltop
reservoir and distribute it through pipes to the area. It was a big
project, costing several hundred thousand dollars.
A red government sign
called it "a public treasure."
But it hasn't functioned in more than
two years. The pump failed. A truck reportedly drove over a pipe and
crushed it. Local authorities couldn't scrape up the money to get it
repaired. And it's unclear when the national government plans to fix it.
"It's a tragedy," says Kenny Rae of OxfamAmerica,
"particularly in the middle of a cholera outbreak, when people have to
now use water they take from the river. We've tested it. It's very, very
contaminated."
So Oxfam is trying a
simple, low-tech solution to provide clean water. The NGO is installing
what they call "chlorine boxes" — green metal poles with dispensers on
top. With a quick tap, it squirts just the right amount of chlorine to
disinfect a 5-gallon bucket of water.
Soon
there will be 90 chlorine boxes scattered around the surrounding
villages, which get their water from sometimes-contaminated streams.
"The cost of chlorine is very low," Rae says. "A $100 tub will cover all
dispensers for six months."
When
NPR visited, the hillside hamlet of Font de Liane was buzzing with
excitement as a group of men dug holes and mixed cement to install two
chlorine boxes.
"We were thirsty for
something like this," says Jacob Labote, a schoolteacher who is
chairman of the local water committee. "I believe that everybody will be
using it."
This story was produced for broadcast by NPR's Jane Greenhalgh.
Note: After myriad delays, vaccinations against cholera finally began today. The program plans to vaccinate some 100,000 Haitians against the disease.
NPR News
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