What happens to the children of the pregnant women behind bars in the Philippines’ drugs war?

Duterte’s expanding crackdown on drugs has sharply increased prison populations and left an estimated 25,000 people dead. Among the prisoners are pregnant women, who often give birth in prison, reports Regine Cabato

Sunday 18 April 2021 00:00 BST
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Rosemarie Santiago at home with her son Jericho, who was born while she was incarcerated in Manila
Rosemarie Santiago at home with her son Jericho, who was born while she was incarcerated in Manila (Washington Post)

Rosemarie Santiago was four months pregnant when she walked into prison. She left more than a year later as a mother who had spent just one day with her child.

She was taken to a Manila hospital to give birth to her son Jericho. The next day her siblings claimed him, and she returned to prison. She would not see him for another nine months.

“When I came back, he was so thin,” says Santiago, who was arrested in 2018 on drugs charges. “I kept thinking about what could have happened if I had not been arrested.”

Santiago is among hundreds of young mothers who give birth while in government custody in the Philippines, where the poor can wait up to a decade for a trial. Some women tend to their children in dismal conditions, even while handcuffed to their hospital beds. Others, like Santiago, surrender the child to family.

The most prominent recent case is that of activist Reina Mae Nasino, whose baby River died of pneumonia in October. The spectacle of the funeral, with a 23-year-old mother cuffed and unable to wipe her tears, was seen by critics of president Rodrigo Duterte as a jarring portrait of diminishing rights in the country. Duterte's expanding crackdown on drugs has sharply increased prison populations and left an estimated 25,000 people dead – drawing criticism from rights activists around the world. Nasino is charged with the possession of illegal weapons, which she denies.

The national Bureau of Jail Management and Penology (BJMP) recorded more than 1,600 pregnant detainees and 485 births in the past two years. Around 80 per cent of the women face cases related to drugs, says medical officer Dr Paul Borlongan.

Drug-related charges against women jumped to more than 15,000 from 9,000 in 2015. Many are arrested alongside their partners and families, according to the Philippines’ Commission on Human Rights.

At least one other death of a detained activist's child was reported this year. Human rights advocates argue that babies have a higher chance of survival if they are not separated from their mothers. The World Health Organisation recommends breastfeeding for at least six months.

Rules in the jail management bureau manual cap a mother and baby’s time together at one month. Anything more must be approved by a court

But rules in the jail management bureau manual cap a mother and baby's time together at one month. Anything more must be approved by a court. Many facilities enforce separation after only a day, citing health concerns for the child.

The treatment of incarcerated mothers is largely “prison-specific, judge-specific, warden-specific”, says Inez Feria, director of NoBox Philippines, an organisation advocating drug policy reform. NoBox has supported calls to release mothers and other vulnerable people in order to decongest prisons.

At the Correctional Institution for Women, mothers can spend up to a year with their children. As the only national prison for women, it can set different rules from the one-month limit for newborns that applies in most other detention facilities.

When The Washington Post visited in February, three young women and their babies shared a space called the “mothers' ward”, across the hall from the cramped dorms of fellow inmates. The room had five beds (two mothers had recently checked out), a shared bathroom, a pantry and a shelf of toys.

Prison guards at the Correctional Institution for Women in Mandaluyong (The Washington Post)

Superintendent Virginia Mangawit says a separate facility would still be ideal. They are always in need of bed space. The prison, built for 1,500 inmates, holds more than 3,000.

Santiago, the former detainee, says she was not involved in drugs but pleaded guilty on the advice of authorities in order to avoid a longer wait for trial. By the time she walked free in 2019, Jericho's father had left.

BJMP spokesperson Xavier Solda defends the one-month cap for new mothers to be with their babies. “[It] is in the best interest of the child given the atmosphere, the health risks, on the part of the baby,” he says. “Are [critics] really saying that it's more okay to stay in a jail, given the conditions in our jails, rather than at home with a family?”

But human rights advocates say the Philippines is in violation of the “Bangkok rules”, guidelines from the United Nations on the treatment of women in detention. Under these requirements, determining the length of a mother and child's time together must be “made in the best interests of the child”.

The rules also say that cuffing mothers, even during the transfer to a hospital, “[violates] international standards”, and that every effort should be made to give pregnant women noncustodial sentences, among other recommendations on the facilities and health services that should be available.

The Correctional Institution for Women has more than double the number of prisoners it was designed to hold (The Washington Post)

In the Philippines, the Commission on Human Rights reports inconsistency in access to maternal health services. “None of the women mentioned availability of postnatal care or services for those experiencing postpartum depression,” it says. Only 37 out of 84 women's dormitories have a breastfeeding room.

Raymund Narag, prison reform advocate and assistant professor at Southern Illinois University, says the lack of physical and legal structures forces bureau employees in the Philippines to come up with individual solutions. Prison officers sometimes convert their offices to nursing spaces, or pool donations with the help of other detainees. At the national penitentiary, a prison employee adopted an inmate's child.

“Sometimes those coping mechanisms benefit [some] people but don't benefit others,” says Narag, a former detainee himself, who spent seven years in prison on murder charges of which he was eventually cleared. “You need new guidelines to deal with the concrete situation, not idealistic ones.”

Experts suggest that these gaps should be addressed through a new law, alongside formal guidelines from the country's Supreme Court and revisions to the jail management manual.

Officials told The Post that an interagency memorandum, which would streamline rules and probably extend the time allotted for mother and child, is under review. The health department hopes it will pass within the year. A Philippines senate bill, meant to aid incarcerated parents, has been pending at committee level since last year.

Mothers sit with their babies in the institution’s maternity ward (The Washington Post)

The issue can be personal for bureau employees. Hannah Nario-Lopez, a University of the Philippines assistant professor who conducts research and skills training in prisons, says some female guards expressed frustration at online vitriol received after the Nasino case.

“At the end of the day, all women suffer here,” she says. “[Anger at the] cruelty of the state, I think, should [be] directed to the critique of the system, lack of institutional support . . . rather than personal attacks on the officers.”

In one case last May, prison guard Sallie Tinapay – who was nursing her own 8-month-old at the time – was assigned to watch over a detainee after childbirth. When the inmate could not produce milk, she fed the baby from her own breast.

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“It was like she didn't want to breastfeed,” Tinapay recalls. “She was thinking that they would be separated anyway.”

The mother, whom authorities did not identify for the sake of privacy, could not secure a court permit that would prolong her hospital stay. Social services picked up the infant, and a relative claimed her later, Tinapay says.

The inmate has been released, according to the prison’s management.

“I hoped she would be set free,” Tinapay says, “so she can take good care of her child.”

© The Washington Post

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