Water a key health concern for First Nations

Issue deserves greater attention, Anja Geitmann, Jan Adamowski and Julien Malard say.

Three years ago, a study on the health effects of the Alberta oilsands reported worryingly high levels of arsenic, cadmium, mercury and selenium in the wildlife of the Athabasca River region. Although members of the Mikisew Cree and Athabasca Chipewyan First Nations communities that commissioned the study had low levels of consumption of traditional foods, 20 of the 94 participants had been diagnosed with some form of cancer, a strikingly high proportion. Many of them had either worked in the oilsands or frequently consumed traditional foods, in particular fish.

This is, unfortunately, not an isolated case in Canada, where we continue to enjoy the general belief that our water is fresh, more than abundant and, most of all, clean.

An optimist might suggest this view results from our country’s vast size; considerable time and space separate the majority of Canadians from First Nations communities. A cynic might say that ignorance is rooted in a lack of interest in, or sympathy with, cultures and peoples different from one’s own that lessens political pressure to act.

In any case, it is difficult to believe the sheer lack of public, scientific and government concern with regard to water quality incidents that would be considered catastrophes had they occurred anywhere but in First Nations communities in our country.

Cases of severe water pollution, cases that have left deaths and lifelong disabilities in their wake, are appearing — or reappearing — in the media after decades of apparent indifference. One major story of 2016 was Grassy Narrows and the Wabaseemoong First Nation in Ontario, where a pulp mill had dumped 10 tonnes of mercury into the watershed, leading to decades of mercury poisoning in the community. (The Ontario government had, in 1984, chosen not to pursue a cleanup plan, and, when the story resurfaced in 2016, spent most of the year dragging its feet on the issue, until announcing a plan this past June.)

Part of the problem is that the scientific community, or at least the actively publishing scientific community, has remained largely silent on some of the most critical health issues in Canada. In the absence of well-publicized high-ranking scientific publications, doubt and denial of the problem persist. For its part, Health Canada in 2007 filed misconduct complaints against John O’Connor, including one for causing “undue alarm,” after the doctor attempted to raise awareness regarding alarmingly high cancer rates in Fort Chipewyan, a First Nations community close to the Albertan oilsands.

But it would be unfair to state that no research is being done on the topic at all. Increasingly, because of gaps in the data traditionally used by scientists, some researchers are starting to rely heavily on social research methodologies and local and Indigenous knowledge.

And, while these newer methods may seem “unscientific” to some at first glance, there is no reason that rigorously conducted social research should not be as trustworthy as rigorously conducted statistical analyses. The two simply serve to provide different types of information — information that we desperately need.

“Water is a crucial component of good health, not just physically, but for mental and emotional health as well. The issues of poor water quality and the ability to resolve the issues speaks directly to the lack of democracy and First Nation-led decision-making within the Indian Act,” says Chief Kevin Hart, the Manitoba Regional Chief for the Assembly of First Nations of Canada.

“We need to have clean water in our communities in order to have healthy families in our communities. There are few things sadder than seeing spots on a child’s body that you know is due to poor water — a problem that is preventable if First Nation communities are provided with the proper resources.”