In a province where hepatitis C infects people at nearly twice the national rate, Saskatchewan's public health workers are meeting their communities not in clinics, but in places like the Salvation Army in Prince Albert — where trust already lives. The work is quiet and deliberate: free tests, honest conversations, and the slow dismantling of the shame that keeps a treatable virus hidden inside people for decades. It is a reminder that the distance between illness and healing is often not medical, but human.
Saskatchewan tackles high hepatitis C rates with community testing event
Hepatitis C affects thousands in Saskatchewan with higher infection rates, particularly among vulnerable populations including those with past injection drug use or unsafe medical procedures.
People can carry hepatitis C for decades without knowing
Mark
Why does Saskatchewan have such high rates compared to the rest of Canada? Is it something about the population, or the healthcare system?
Mimi
It's not one thing. The health authority doesn't point to a single cause, but you see hints in what they're doing—they're talking about injection drug use, about older people who had unsafe medical procedures decades ago, about sexual health education gaps. It's a mix of vulnerability, access, and awareness.
Mark
So the testing event itself—is that actually moving the needle, or is it more symbolic?
Mimi
The numbers suggest it's real. Eighty people in one afternoon is substantial. But the real work is what happens after: connecting people to treatment, destigmatizing the whole thing. Martin talked about it being rewarding because you see results. That's not just feel-good talk.
Mark
What struck you most about what the health officials said?
Mimi
That people can carry this virus for decades without knowing. That's the haunting part. Someone born in 1950 might have had one unsafe procedure in 1975 and never thought about it again. Now they're seeing liver cancer. The virus was always there.
Mark
And the Salvation Army partnership—why is that significant?
Mimi
Because they're not a health organization. They're trusted in the community, they serve vulnerable people, and they're willing to say yes. That's how you actually reach people who don't have a family doctor or who are wary of health institutions.
Mark
What comes next?
Mimi
Another event in August. But the real question is whether this becomes routine—whether testing for hepatitis C becomes as normal as checking your blood pressure. That's what they're building toward.
Il Polso
- Saskatchewan carries the second-worst hepatitis C rate in Canada — 38.3 cases per 100,000 people — nearly double the national average, a gap that is neither accidental nor unnoticed.
- Most people infected with hepatitis C don't know it, and don't know it can be treated, leaving a silent epidemic to advance unchecked through vulnerable populations.
- Older adults born between 1945 and 1975 face rising rates of liver cancer tied to infections from decades-old unsafe procedures — a generation largely unaware they were ever exposed.
- Community testing events at trusted local sites like the Salvation Army are dismantling barriers of access and stigma, with over 80 people tested at a single June event alone.
- The Saskatchewan Health Authority is expanding its community partnerships with more testing events planned for August, betting that routine, accessible testing can normalize knowing one's status.
In a province where hepatitis C infects people at nearly twice the national rate, Saskatchewan's public health workers are meeting their communities not in clinics, but in places like the Salvation Army in Prince Albert — where trust already lives. The work is quiet and deliberate: free tests, honest conversations, and the slow dismantling of the shame that keeps a treatable virus hidden inside people for decades. It is a reminder that the distance between illness and healing is often not medical, but human.
Saskatchewan's hepatitis C rates stand among the worst in Canada — 38.3 cases per 100,000 people, nearly double the national average of 19.7, surpassed only by Manitoba. On a Tuesday afternoon in Prince Albert, the Saskatchewan Health Authority responded to that reality the way public health increasingly must: not with a clinic appointment, but with a table at the Salvation Army, free tests, and a willingness to meet people where they are.
Dr. Ahmed Faress, a medical health officer with the authority, was direct about the stakes. Hepatitis C spreads through shared needles, unsafe medical or tattoo procedures, and sexual contact, quietly inflaming the liver while most carriers remain unaware they're infected — and unaware the virus is treatable. Community events like this one exist precisely to close that gap, offering education and testing without the friction of a formal medical visit.
Registered nurse Pauline Martin, the authority's regional HIV strategy coordinator, brought attention to a population often left out of prevention messaging: people born between 1945 and 1975. Many in that generation carry infections from decades-old unsafe procedures, now showing up as liver cancer, still not knowing the source. Martin also pushed for a broader understanding of sexual health protection — condoms as a lifelong practice, not just a tool of youth.
The Salvation Army partnership is part of a deliberate strategy. As sexually transmitted and blood-borne infection rates climb across the province, Martin said the path forward runs through coordinated community relationships with organizations that already hold people's trust. At a June testing event, she stopped counting after 80 people came through. She called it one of the most rewarding days of her career. Another event is planned for August. The goal is to make testing feel ordinary — as routine as checking your blood pressure — so that those who are infected can find their way to treatment that works.
Saskatchewan's hepatitis C problem runs deeper than most provinces in Canada, and on a Tuesday afternoon in Prince Albert, the Saskatchewan Health Authority set up tables at the Salvation Army to do something about it. The event was straightforward in its purpose: offer free testing, share information, and try to reach people who might otherwise never know they carry the virus.
The numbers tell the story of why this matters. Saskatchewan reports 38.3 cases of hepatitis C per 100,000 people—nearly double the national average of 19.7 cases per 100,000. Only Manitoba has a worse rate. That gap is not accidental, and it is not invisible to the people tasked with public health here. Dr. Ahmed Faress, a medical health officer with the Saskatchewan Health Authority, put it plainly: this is a concern, and it demands attention in Prince Albert and across the province.
Hepatitis C spreads through shared needles, unsafe medical or tattoo procedures, and sexual contact. It inflames and damages the liver. Most people do not know they have it until they are tested. Most people also do not know it can be treated. That gap between infection and awareness is where the real problem lives. Faress explained that while people can get tested through their family doctor, community events like this one serve a different purpose: they meet people where they are, offer education on the spot, and remove one barrier to care by making testing accessible without an appointment or a trip to a clinic.
Pauline Martin, a registered nurse and regional HIV strategy coordinator for the health authority, emphasized something that gets overlooked in public health messaging: older generations need education too. She noted that people born between 1945 and 1975 are seeing rising rates of liver cancer, often unaware that something they did decades ago—an unsafe injection, a medical procedure with poor sterilization—left them infected. They can carry hepatitis C for years without symptoms, without knowing. Martin stressed the importance of reframing condom use not as pregnancy prevention alone, but as lifelong sexual health protection, especially for people with multiple partners or new relationships.
The partnership between the health authority and the Salvation Army reflects a broader strategy. As STBBI rates—sexually transmitted and blood-borne infections—climb across Saskatchewan, Martin said, the only way forward is coordinated community work. The Salvation Army is not a health agency, but they are present in the community, they care about what happens to the people they serve, and they are willing to host these events. That matters.
At a testing event in June, Martin stopped counting after 80 people came through for conversations and testing. She called it one of the most rewarding days of her work—hard, yes, but the kind of hard that produces results. The health authority plans another event in August. The goal is simple and human: connection. Testing becomes routine, not shameful. Knowing your status becomes as normal as knowing your blood pressure. And people who are infected get connected to treatment that works.
Citazioni salienti
We know we have higher rates in Saskatchewan compared to the Canadian average, and that is important for us here in Prince Albert and Saskatchewan.— Dr. Ahmed Faress, medical health officer, Saskatchewan Health Authority
People are not aware that they might have had a vulnerable activity in their past that predisposed themselves to hepatitis C, and they're quite shocked that they can have it for decades.— Paulette Martin, regional HIV strategy coordinator and registered nurse, Saskatchewan Health Authority
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