El Salvador is struggling with a growing health epidemic among its rural residents: Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD). In 2008, the country registered the world’s highest mortality rate from kidney failure. Over 3,000 people died from CKD between just January 2010 and July 2014. Doctors diagnose 60 new cases each month.
Traditionally, CKD is a secondary effect of diabetes or hypertension. In the early 2000s, Central Americans began noticing significant numbers of CKD cases among otherwise healthy agricultural workers and rural residents. Researchers believe this new form ofkidney disease is caused by some combination of agrochemicalexposure and dehydration. Yet the only consensus is that the causes are complicated, likely multifactorial, and stem from the entrenched inequalities and poverty that affect rural Central America.
While medical and public health researchers continue to heatedly debate the epidemic’s exact causes, and intergovernmental cooperation has so far been minimal, Salvadorans are recognizing that building a response cannot wait. In 2013, an attempt to ban the importation and use of 53 agrochemicals nationally was, in part, a CKD-prevention effort. And the Ministry of Health (MINSAL), with support from the Pan American Health Organization and Cuban doctors, has sponsored research and clinical interventions.
The Lower Lempa has been the launching point for a number of these efforts, due to the region’s high rates of CKD as well as its strong local tradition of social mobilization and organization. “There is something very positive in these communities,” former Minister of Health Dra. Maria Isabel Rodriguez told me, speaking of MINSAL’s productive collaborations around CKD in the Lower Lempa.
For example, by coordinating with the Mangrove Association, local ADESCOs, and other community members, MINSAL carried out an extensive clinical and environmental health study called NefroLempa in the region from 2009 to 2013, the first to document the extent of CKD in El Salvador. The study’s results also led to theopening of a clinic in Ciudad Romero in 2013 that specializes in renal care. Although part of MINSAL’s nationwide clinic network, the Specialized Community and Family Health Unit “Monseñor Oscar Arnulfo Romero” is the only local health clinic in Central America constructed specifically tomeet the needs of those affected by the emerging rural CKD epidemic.
The clinic is the first step in MINSAL’s goal to decentralize CKD medical care to better meet the needs of rural residents. Although the clinic is equipped with dialysis machines, there have been no funds to operate them. The clinic also employs a team of medical specialists trained in renal health, including a nephrologist, a psychologist, a dietician, a health educator, and health promoters from surrounding communities.
The presence of the clinic in Romero, and the growing body of information on the disease, are beginning to give people living with CKD in the Lower Lempa more options and resources. The specialized renal team at the clinic is promoting new practices related not only to diet, medication, and regular medical checkups, but also toreduced agrochemical application and use of protective gear. Local entities like the Mangrove Association and the Jiquilisco town council are also integrating results from the NefroLempa study about emerging links betweenagrochemical exposure and renal impairment into existing efforts to promote small-scale organic agriculture and regulate production practices in the sugarcane industry.
Changing to organic farming practices, however, is difficult. One Ministry of Environment (MARN) employee described to me how farmers with CKD are often stuck in an “alleyway” of chemical intensive production that appears tohave no way out. Many farmers I interviewed living with CKD in the Lower Lempa echoed this sentiment. They suspect agrochemicals are making them sick, yet feel they need them to remain economically competitive. Likewise, in the Lower Lempa’s checkered agricultural landscape, a person can farm without chemicals and follow all medical recommendations and still be exposed to agrochemicals drifting in the wind or seeping into the groundwater from a neighboring sugarcane plantation.
The metaphor of Salvadoran farmers being stuck in an alleyway points to the systemic obstacles that will need to be overcome in order to redirect agricultural production toward a form that better supports the health and economic well-being of Salvadorans. My research suggests that new medical technologies and changes in labor and chemical-use practices in scattered milpas are important first steps toward addressing CKD. And they are steps not yet being taken in other parts of Central America. Yet, they will not be enough to significantly impact the scale and pace of the growing CKD epidemic. As a result, ongoing efforts in the Lower Lempa to tie CKD to the need for broader reform of El Salvador’s agricultural system are critical.
Such efforts include the Mangrove Association’s recent collaboration with the Jiquilisco town council to create a local sugarcane production ordinance. Even though many people who have never cut sugarcane are sick with CKD in the Lower Lempa, the sugar industry indirectly shapes a number of dynamics that impact renal health across the region. Pre-harvest cane burning and chemical-application practices are linked to environmental contamination beyond the borders of cane fields. Sugarcane workers face distinctive challenges in accessing medical care and changing labor practices (as has been seen most visibly in Nicaragua), yet only a handful of the more than 7,000 sugar producers in El Salvador have implemented workplace interventions around CKD. As sugarcane production continues to expand in the region, the industry will increasingly shape the political economy in which all farmers in the Lower Lempa must balance making a living and protecting their health.
The scientific evidence is still emerging behind agrochemicals’ linksto CKD, but the stakes are too high to not act on precautionary principle. As former Minister of Health Rodriguez has said, “Are we going to let these people be exposed to chemicals which could be contaminating their land and water? Are we going to forgo regulation while more evidence is amassed? In my opinion we need to enact control measures now. CKDu [chronic kidney disease of an unknown origin] is an urgent health problem – it demands an urgent response.”
In the Lower Lempa, this urgent response is already underway. As I finish my master’s degree in geography this semester at the University of Arizona and move onto doctoral research, I will continue collaborating with local actors including the Mangrove Association and the Romero clinic in their efforts to understand, address, and prevent CKD.
We’re not backing down in the face of Trump’s threats.
As Donald Trump is inaugurated a second time, independent media organizations are faced with urgent mandates: Tell the truth more loudly than ever before. Do that work even as our standard modes of distribution (such as social media platforms) are being manipulated and curtailed by forces of fascist repression and ruthless capitalism. Do that work even as journalism and journalists face targeted attacks, including from the government itself. And do that work in community, never forgetting that we’re not shouting into a faceless void – we’re reaching out to real people amid a life-threatening political climate.
Our task is formidable, and it requires us to ground ourselves in our principles, remind ourselves of our utility, dig in and commit.
As a dizzying number of corporate news organizations – either through need or greed – rush to implement new ways to further monetize their content, and others acquiesce to Trump’s wishes, now is a time for movement media-makers to double down on community-first models.
At Truthout, we are reaffirming our commitments on this front: We won’t run ads or have a paywall because we believe that everyone should have access to information, and that access should exist without barriers and free of distractions from craven corporate interests. We recognize the implications for democracy when information-seekers click a link only to find the article trapped behind a paywall or buried on a page with dozens of invasive ads. The laws of capitalism dictate an unending increase in monetization, and much of the media simply follows those laws. Truthout and many of our peers are dedicating ourselves to following other paths – a commitment which feels vital in a moment when corporations are evermore overtly embedded in government.
Over 80 percent of Truthout‘s funding comes from small individual donations from our community of readers, and the remaining 20 percent comes from a handful of social justice-oriented foundations. Over a third of our total budget is supported by recurring monthly donors, many of whom give because they want to help us keep Truthout barrier-free for everyone.
You can help by giving today. Whether you can make a small monthly donation or a larger gift, Truthout only works with your support.