Socialist Republic of Vietnam

Deep in Viet Nam’s Central Highlands, a horrific ritual of burying living babies together with their dead mothers was once practised. Do Tien Thuy reports on how this custom was stopped.

Eleven years ago in the forests of Kon Tum Province in Mo Ray Commune, mournful rolls of a gong resounded sadly amid the thick trees. A still-breathing baby lay in a coffin beside her ill-fated Gia Rai mother, who had died during childbirth. The villagers prepared to bury the child alive. At the funeral, they ate and drank rice wine. While drinking, they came to the coffin one by one to weep for the deceased woman and her child, thinking nothing of the tragedy about to take place. To them, it was simply tradition.

Pham Xuan Bon, a border guard captain stationed in the region, which borders Cambodia, shuddered at the sight. This custom must be done away with, to avoid other children suffering a similar fate, he thought to himself. Clearing his mind, he thought more about what he could do to save the child about to die before him.

Rituals of death

The day before, he had dropped in on the house of A Det, the husband of the deceased woman. Reaching the gate, he saw a dried twig at the doorway – a symbol implying that strangers must stay out. Out of respect for local customs, he did not dare enter. Unluckily for A Det, at the moment his wife was convulsing under her bed during her fatal childbirth.

When the first rolls of the gong announcing the death of A Det’s wife rang, Bon and several men in his border guard team came to A Det’s home at once. Their intent to share his grief turned into anger when they were told that the living baby would be buried together with her mother. In response to their fury, A Det sat motionless. In defiance of their advice, A Det only said sadly, "Let her go with her mother so that she might suck her breast."

Early in the morning, the baby still cried out loudly. Owing to her intuition for life, she moved her little hands here and there to look for her mother’s breasts. Bon told, the medic of his team, to make a cup of sugary water to pour into the baby’s mouth bit by bit. However, many old villagers tried to prevent them from feeding the child.

To villagers’ surprise, the local authorities intervened.

"Should you bury the child alive with her mother, you’d violate the law," said Kso Liu, chairman of the commune, to A Det. A Det remained silent and showed no fear. In this far-away corner of the country, supreme power did not lie in the hands of the chairman, nor in that of the secretary. For the villagers, authority lay in the hands of A Choc, the village patriarch.

The only way out is to persuade this old man, Bon said to himself. He came up to the patriarch, picked up a piece of buffalo meat and sucked a draft of can wine from a large jug. The old man’s eyes brightened. Bon became bolder. He held the old man’s hand and asked loudly in order that the crowd might hear, "Why do we have to bury this living baby girl?"

"Because she would die, sooner or later," the old man replied coldly. "Anyhow, who can bring her up now... and later?"

"I can, sir," Bon answered courageously.

"What would you do if she dies..."

"I’ll compensate..."

"What’s your compensation?"

"Anything is OK."

"So, 10 water buffaloes plus two more for her funeral."

Bon nodded his head.

"You must make a guarantee in writing," the old man told him.

Battle to save baby

That evening, the frontier guards’ camp was active like a field hospital. One member was busy washing the baby with warm water, some were making diapers while others were grinding rice into powder to prepare porridge for the child. Late in the evening, came a man drenched with sweat. He was Hoang Van Ha, deputy head of the Mo Ray Border Guards’ Station, in charge of its political matters. Receiving the terrible information about the child, he left the station for the camp at once. However, it took him half a day to reach the place. After a glance at the baby, he knew the problem.

"Make a call to the Command to fetch a jeep so that we may take her to Kon Tum Town at once," he ordered his men.

Bon held the weak creature tightly in his arms and got in the jeep. On the way he prayed God not to let one of the frequent downpours that plague the region fall onto their vehicle. Luckily, the trip was dry.

Y Mui, director at the office of the Department of Labour, Invalids and Social Affairs welcomed them and an emergency case was diagnosed and treated immediately at the Health Station of the Centre for Social Welfare of Kon Tum Province. When the baby’s health recovered, the centre made a report to be handed to A Det through Bon with a suggested name for the child: Y Thanh.

When the ordeal was over, Bon thought that it was the first and last time he would have to carry out such a difficult mission. However, six months later he had to cope with a similar case.

The married couple of Y Chat and A Oat at Kenh Village died of an epidemic disease and their two-month old son was about to be buried together with his parents. Bon appeared in time to save the child and took him to the centre. As a result, another child, this one named Y Duc, was rescued from death.

In July 2003, the Mo Ray Commune heard sudden but joyful news that 10-year old Y Duc was still alive and was to return from the centre to the commune. From noon until evening crowds gathered at her grandfather’s house to visit the lucky girl.

Horrific custom explained

The horrific tradition of burying living babies together with their mothers dates far back into this region’s history. It was mentioned in the hori (lamentations) formerly sung by the village patriarch of the Gia Rai ethnic minority. In 1989 when Y Bim, the second wife of A Ble of Tang Village, died, her baby girl was buried alive with her mother in the same coffin while the poor little creature still cried for milk.

The basis of this practice was born out of necessity for the Gia Rai people. In a region that historically lacked cows, once the mother died, it was impossible to find milk to sustain the babies. Thus the death of the mother would doom the child to a certain death. Taking into account this grim reality, it was economical for the baby to be buried on the same day as the mother. Funerals are expensive undertakings for local villagers. According to one of the Gia Rai customs, a water buffalo must be killed by the family of the deceased to provide for a funeral feast for the village. By burying the baby alongside the mother the family would only have to provide for one feast instead of two.

However, authorities decided the custom had to be eradicated. The question was how to do it. If possible, the matter should be solved by saving expectant mothers from death by providing a qualified doctor at childbirth and modern medicine.

Stopping the practice

Eliminating this outdated practice is one of many advances the Vietnamese Government has made in this far-flung region of the country. Mo Ray, a 1,582sq.km commune (belonging Sa Thay District, Kon Tum Province) is as large as the area of the province of Nam Dinh and is the largest commune in Viet Nam. In this vast expanse of mountain and forest, live about 1,000 Gia Rai ethnic people (in five villages) and other Ro Mam natives (in the only one small community). While the former’s inhabitants are still fairly populous and live scattered in all the provinces of Tay Nguyen (Central High-lands), those of the latter are smaller in number.

Since 1999, the provincial authorities have placed each far-away locality under the charge of a unit of the border guard forces or a civil organisation. Mo Ray Commune was entrusted to the care of Captain Pham Xuan Bon’s local team, under the leadership of the Mo Ray Border Guards’ Station. Moreover, the deputy chief of the station, Captain Hoang Van Ha, was elected to the People’s Council of Mo Ray Commune so that he might control the local situation on the one hand and guide the team to work more effectively on the other.

Still, modernising the region has continued to present difficulties. One policy advocated by the provincial authorities was investment for the residents to raise cattle. Bon supported to the idea, but when he explained the concept to the locals, they objected.

We don’t want to raise cows here, they villagers said when presented with the idea.

"Why? We, at the station, have been keeping cattle and all the animals have grown very quickly," Bon replied.

Only Kinh majority people are capable of raising cattle while Ro Mam minority ethnic residents cannot, they said.

After much discussion, Bon discovered that the root of their opposition lay in local superstition that raising cows would invite disasters.

A few days later, Ha and Bon took a pregnant cow to Ro Ma La, secretary of the communal Party Committee, so that he might tender her and demonstrate the benefits of raising cattle. Luckily, the cow successively gave birth to many calves which were eventually sold for VND3 million each. Now the herd of cows at Mo Ray Commune has grown to 400 head.

Ten years is a short period of time for a mountainous region, although it is long for a man’s life. In the last 10 to 15 years, the population of Mo Ray Commune has increased from 1,240 in 1991 to 1,801 today. Additionally, many horrible practices, including the practice of burying babies with their mothers, have been eliminated.

Viet Nam News, October 25, 2004