Daeng, the village headman, can no longer raise domestic fowl because his house is located within five kilometres of the residence of a boy who had died after being infected with the H5N1 strain of bird flu – and officials had banned the raising of poultry within this radius as a precautionary measure during the current avian outbreak.
“It’s difficult to raise (domestic fowl) because the authorities impose so many (restrictions). Since they’re domestic fowl, what would you do if you don’t raise them free-range style? They are not farm chickens,” Daeng said.
Over in Nong Khao, another village in the same province, Boonphong Kanpai gently strokes a hen laying eggs in a basket in front of his house. The eggs will hatch in a few days, adding to Boonphong’s more than 100 chickens.
Boonphong is one of a few remaining domestic fowl raisers in this central province after it was hit by a bird flu outbreak that saw Thailand’s first human fatality from bird flu -- a boy who succumbed to the disease on Jan. 26, 2004.
Although Boonphong’s house is located about 20 kilometres from the home of the boy who died from avian flu, those who fear the disease still consider it too close for comfort. But the poultry farmer finds it difficult to give up his business because it means losing his livelihood and food source.
“Being a villager and a farmer, living without chickens would be too quiet and lonely,” Boonphong added.
Daeng and Boonphong are just two of the traditional poultry farmers in Thailand whose lives have drastically changed after the H5N1 virus made its first appearance in late 2003. Villagers who for generations lived alongside their ducks and chickens are now grappling with biosafety measures – including distancing themselves from fowl in their backyard– that threaten traditions they have always known.
In Song Phi Nong district in nearby Suphan Buri province, where the country’s most dense free-range duck raising industry can be found, a young boy rounds up a flock of about 1,000 ducks to prevent them from feeding too far from his shack in the middle of the rice field.
As the ducks waddle through his legs, the barefooted boy does not seem worried by bird flu that has affected each of the six countries of the Mekong Region – China, Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, Laos and Myanmar – and spread to Africa and Europe as well. “This has always been our way of raising free-range ducks since I was born,” he said.
After free-range ducks were blamed for the bird flu outbreak, Thailand’s Livestock Development Department launched measures to prevent the spread of the disease. These included the prohibition of trans-provincial raising of free-range ducks, the zoning of free-range duck raising and monthly check-up of ducks for the avian flu virus.
“The officials inject the ducks’ rear part with needles, so the ducks don’t lay eggs,” the young boy explained.
WAITING FOR BETTER DAYS
In Bangkok’s Nong Chok district, an employee at Kamnan Wichian Tansiri’s cockfighting farm gently rubs a cloth soaked with turmeric water onto a rooster and then scrubs it with ripe tomatoes. Taking care of fighting cocks is akin to a beauty contest candidate having a body scrub to keep her skin radiant, he said.
After the scrub, he carries the rooster to a coop where it would dry in the warm sun. He then takes another rooster out for cleaning. This daily ritual goes on from dawn until dusk.
Aside from four or five employees, a continuous stream of rooster lovers come and go from Kamnan Wichian’s place, one of Thailand’s top farms. Considered a pioneer in exporting fighting cocks to Indonesia, the farm used to have nearly 1,000 roosters. But when the bird flu crisis struck, Indonesia stopped ordering fighting cocks, forcing the farm to reduce the number of its roosters to about 100. As a result, the number of employees also declined.
Kamnan Wichian said some Thai customers still stop by his farm to purchase fighting cocks, but they do not buy a big lot like foreign customers do. Still, he is not about to give up on his farm with which he set up with blood, sweat and tears. He hopes the situation will improve one day.
At the north-eastern province of Khon Kaen, five-year-old Nac and his elder sister sprinkle rice seedlings to feed the chickens near their home’s granary. While feeding the chickens, Nac also plays with them. For the boy, the domestic fowl are not just a source of food but also his playmates.
But experts say the close bond between Nac and the domestic fowl is dangerous; as of March 2007, Khon Kaen was among the 30 provinces being carefully monitored for bird flu outbreaks.
LESS CUSTOMERS FROM LAOS
A little further down the road is Nong Khai province, located right on the border with Laos with only the Mekong River flowing in between. Not far from the river is a small egg farm that houses about 1,000 hens. A boy smiles warmly as he collects eggs onto a tray and then piles them in a corner of the barn amid the cackling hens.
Below the barn is a pond where the fish feed on chicken droppings. Egg farm owner Nikorn Wongphumi, 53, also breeds fish to earn more money.
Nikorn said he sells the eggs not only to Thai but also to Lao buyers who cross the Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge to Nong Khai. But when the bird flu outbreaks began, his business suffered. The year 2004 was especially challenging as sales went down because people were afraid to eat eggs.
Though he did not really mind the complicated procedures following the bird flu outbreak – be it an application for an egg farm permit or the numerous health check-ups of chickens– Nikorn was disheartened by how the disease has put his egg-farming business in jeopardy.
A bit further away from his farm is Ban Mor in Si Chiang Mai district – just opposite Nong Da village in Vientiane, the Lao capital. Here, a thoughtful Sunthorn Kwakhong watches Lao boats along the Mekong River pass by his home.
Sunthorn used to earn a modest income of 80 to 90 baht (2.16 to 2.43 U.S. dollars) per chicken from Lao customers; he also raised fish in floating cages along the river. But when bird flu struck the Thai border province of Nakhon Phanom in 2006, and even as Thai and Lao authorities argued over the origins of the virus, Lao residents stopped crossing the Mekong River to buy Sunthorn’s chicken.
When two Vientiane residents died of bird flu in March 2007, authorities from the two countries prohibited the transit and sale of poultry between Thailand and neighbouring Laos. As in Don Ngiew in Kanchanaburi, the chickens’ cooing sounds were no longer heard after all the poultry were culled.
At the border checkpoint at the Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge, H5N1 control officials from the Nong Khai Livestock Development Office on the Thai side spray disinfectant onto every vehicle crossing the border into the Thai side. The practice began in October 2006, following the bird flu outbreak in Nakhon Phanom province.
AVIAN FLU LESSONS
Meantime in Vientiane district, Khamphy Khammmavong of the relief organisation CARE International uses a microphone to invite residents of Bo-o village in Had Sai Fon to join a community training session on bird flu at the Bo-o School’s volleyball field.
Located 20 kilometres from the heart of Vientiane city, the district is a red alert zone. Although authorities have already culled 98 percent of poultry in the area, they said it was still necessary to educate the residents.
At 8 p.m., people began streaming into the venue. Khamphy suspects that the community only has a small number of poultry farmers, because the children in the crowd outnumbered the adults. The mostly young audience responded warmly to the appearance of a large chicken mascot. This was followed by a screening of a documentary about bird flu, after which the officials handed out information leaflets and posters. A bird flu quiz to affirm the villagers’ knowledge about the disease capped the evening’s programme.
This grassroots-level training is part of a risk reduction scheme for bird flu that CARE International initiated in March 2006 in 164 communities around Vientiane city. This later expanded to other areas.
Melanie Kempster, senior emergency officer for avian influenza of CARE International in Lao PDR, said their organisation wants to reach out to communities that the government’s national plan is not able to cover due to its wide scope. Sending officials to specific areas to interact with villagers would help more people better understand the issue and how to prevent the spread of avian flu, she explained.
“Everything happened so fast,” Kempster recalled. “In 2007, two Laotians died from bird flu and the Laotian government killed chicken and other poultry in Vientiane district’s 211 villages. People were in shock.” (END)