Hong Kong's Fowl Problem

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er 32 years in the business, Hong Kong poultry farmer Lam Po-sang has seen his share of sick chickens. "Chickens usually die gradually," he says. So when about one-quarter of his 140,000 stock was suddenly wiped out in three days, Lam was shocked. He'd never seen anything like it. "One minute they were flapping their wings," he says, "the next they were dead."

Just as dead was any complacency on the Special Autonomous Region's part that it had solved its problems with bird flu. Health authorities worry about a repeat of 1997, when a strain of avian flu virus—H5N1—jumped directly from a bird to a human. Eighteen people were infected; six died. And the outbreak caused worldwide concern among health experts, who feared a possible global pandemic. Now, despite what is described as a first-class surveillance system for its poultry, Hong Kong is suffering its third lethal outbreak of bird flu in nearly five years. Flu experts can't explain why. But a lack of coordinated regulations, record keeping and research between Hong Kong and southern China is one reason for their inability to get to the root of the problem. And vested economic interests are keeping researchers from taking even the first steps toward finding a solution.

Southern China has long been recognized as the incubator of flu viruses. Traditional Chinese farming practices—especially the close proximity of birds, pigs and humans—promote the mixing of viruses, which mutate and leap between species. New strains are constantly evolving as viral genes are swapped between host bird species. "The 1997 strain was a reassortment from three viruses from goose and, we think, the quail," says Kennedy Shortridge, a University of Hong Kong microbiologist who has studied influenza since 1975.

Two of the past three global flu pandemics are thought to have originated in the south of China. The so-called Asian flu, first identified in China in 1957, and the Hong Kong flu of 1968 together killed more than 1.5 million people worldwide. Considering the lethal history, scientists are keen to track the mutations of the latest virus. Although only the 1997 variant infected humans, the concern is that another fatal combination could leap the species barrier at any time."We do not know enough about H5N1," Shortridge says. "It's a dangerous situation."

Since the 1997 outbreak when Hong Kong authorities' citywide slaughter of 1.4 million chickens was largely credited with stopping the flu's spread, the government has instituted several preventive measures: increased testing of imported chickens, segregating live waterfowl from other poultry at markets and enforcing a monthly market "rest day" to disinfect cages.

The problem is that when China's chickens sneeze, Hong Kong poultry gets the flu. All live poultry intended for human consumption in Hong Kong—some 33.4 million birds in 2001—is imported from the mainland, either ready for sale or as chicks to be raised locally. Of the territory's daily chicken consumption, only 20% is reared on 146 local farms; the rest are transported directly from China. Currently the Chinese government keeps no accurate or accessible official records of animal disease outbreaks. October reports of bird flu in Fujian province and the slaughter of 10,000 ducks and chickens were denied by Chinese officials. In addition, mainland farming and health regulations are lax, and where they do exist, enforcement is minimal. If H5N1 is detected in carcasses or feces when stock reaches Hong Kong, the chickens are sent back and too often merely repackaged. Says Hong Kong legislator Wong Yung-kan: "Everyone knows chickens that fail live-import quarantine become frozen imports."

Even though all three recent H5N1 chicken strains are related to a goose virus that originated in Guangdong, when Hong Kong inspectors find diseased mainland chickens, they are not allowed to trace the outbreak across the border to its source.

Mainland officials well know that chicken flu is bad for business. After each H5N1 outbreak, Hong Kong has banned poultry imports from China, if only temporarily. When Macau detected H5N1 in Chinese geese last May, Chinese waterfowl imports were banned for three months. And after avian flu was detected in Chinese duck meat by Seoul authorities in mid-2001, Japan and South Korea imposed a two-month ban. Within days of Hong Kong's latest outbreak, sales of chicken plunged 80%—an estimated loss to retailers of $13 million. "This is supposed to be our peak season," says Wong Wai-Chuen, chairman of a local poultry association, referring to Lunar New Year celebrations.

Chicken dishes, a popular Chinese staple, symbolize prosperity. But in 2002 they are a grim reminder of the downside of one country, two systems.