Food contamination blamed for Juiz de Fora hepatite A surge as cases exceed 1,000

At least two deaths confirmed from hepatitis A in 2026, including Carlos Eduardo Silva Reis whose death was confirmed during the hearing.
I'm here to represent my husband who died
Amanda Florita testified at the hearing hours after her husband's death from hepatitis A was confirmed.

More than 1,000 hepatitis A cases confirmed in Juiz de Fora, concentrated in central and southern neighborhoods since December 2025. Food contamination identified as main transmission source; water supply tested negative. Vaccination expansion underway for adults and children.

  • More than 1,000 hepatitis A cases confirmed in Juiz de Fora since December 2025
  • Food contamination identified as primary source; water supply tested negative
  • Cases declined 88.6% from peak (132 cases in week 11 to 15 cases in week 18)
  • Juiz de Fora accounted for 176 of 197 cases statewide in April—nearly 90% of Minas Gerais total
  • At least two deaths confirmed from hepatitis A in 2026

Over 1,000 hepatitis A cases confirmed in Juiz de Fora since December, with food contamination identified as primary cause. Water supply tests came back negative, prompting expanded vaccination efforts.

On a Tuesday afternoon in late May, the city council chamber in Juiz de Fora filled with residents and officials to confront a spreading crisis. More than a thousand cases of hepatitis A had been confirmed since December, concentrated in the central and southern neighborhoods—Centro, São Mateus, Cascatinha—and the outbreak showed no sign of stopping on its own. The Department of Epidemiological Surveillance presented its findings: food contamination, not water, was driving the surge. The water system had tested clean. But the disease was still moving through the city.

Louise Cândido, the department's chief, laid out what they knew and what remained uncertain. Laboratory analysis had ruled out the municipal water supply as a source of transmission. That was something. But it meant the contamination was happening elsewhere—in food preparation, in handling, in the gaps between farm and table. The city was pushing vaccination, particularly for adults over eighteen and children, and ramping up sanitary inspections across food distribution points. When asked about expanding the vaccination program more aggressively, Cândido was cautious. "We're not working with broad vaccination because we need technical criteria, but also the availability of the vaccine," she said. There were discussions underway about offering a second dose to children to catch those who had slipped through the first round. The city was also presenting its data to the National Immunization Program for review, hoping federal authorities might shift the criteria for who should be vaccinated.

The hearing had been requested by Councilman Sargento Mello Casal, who opened by noting the absence of health professionals—representatives from basic health units and hospitals had not shown up. The city's health secretary, Matheus Jacometti, was also absent. The Municipal Health Council had been hollowed out. These absences mattered. They suggested the machinery of public health was struggling to keep pace with the outbreak, that the usual channels of coordination and accountability were fraying under the pressure.

Amanda Florita sat in the chamber that day to represent her husband, Carlos Eduardo Silva Reis. He had died from hepatitis A. The confirmation of the cause had come through just hours before the hearing. "I'm here to represent my husband who died, the result came out today," she said quietly. "I don't have much to say." He was the second person in the city to die from the disease that year. His death was not abstract. It was a man who had lived in Santa Terezinha, a neighborhood where the virus was circulating. It was a wife left behind.

José Walter Guimarães, representing the Linhares neighborhood, stood to describe conditions on the ground: sewage leaks, open drainage ditches, dirty streets. In the middle of a hepatitis A outbreak, these were not minor complaints. They were the physical reality in which the virus moved. He was asking the city council to pay attention, to understand that disease does not spread in a vacuum—it spreads through neglect, through infrastructure that has failed, through the places where people have no choice but to live.

There was one piece of news that offered some relief. The city's epidemiological data showed the outbreak was decelerating. In week eleven of the year, when cases had peaked, the city recorded 132 new infections. By week eighteen, that number had fallen to fifteen—an 88.6 percent drop. But the numbers were still being updated. They were provisional. And even as the curve bent downward in Juiz de Fora, the city remained the epicenter of the state's outbreak. In April alone, the city accounted for 176 of the 197 cases confirmed across all of Minas Gerais—nearly ninety percent of the state total.

Hepatitis A spreads through contaminated food and water, and through close contact with infected people. Symptoms appear between fifteen and fifty days after infection: fatigue, fever, nausea, abdominal pain, and jaundice—the yellowing of skin and eyes that gives the disease its visible mark. The vaccine was available free through the public health system, but only for specific groups: children between fifteen months and five years, pregnant women, people with liver disease, the immunocompromised, people on HIV prevention medication, unvaccinated contacts of confirmed cases. The city was offering it at basic health units on weekdays starting at nine in the morning, and on Saturdays from eight to eleven. But availability remained constrained. The outbreak was moving faster than the vaccine supply could follow.

We're not working with broad vaccination because we need technical criteria, but also the availability of the vaccine.
— Louise Cândido, chief of the Department of Epidemiological Surveillance
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Inventor

Why did water testing come back clean when food contamination was the culprit? Doesn't that seem like a lucky break?

Model

It's not luck—it's actually a narrowing of the problem. Water systems are centralized, monitored, regulated. Food is distributed through hundreds of points, prepared in countless kitchens. Once you rule out water, you're looking at a much messier picture. That's harder to control.

Inventor

The hearing had almost no health professionals there. How does a city fight an outbreak without its own doctors in the room?

Model

It doesn't, really. You're managing a crisis with half your team absent. It suggests the outbreak has overwhelmed the system—people are stretched so thin they can't even show up to explain what's happening. That's when things start to slip.

Inventor

Amanda Florita's husband died hours before she testified. What does it mean that she came anyway?

Model

It means she needed to be heard. Not as a statistic, but as a person who lost someone. The outbreak becomes real in that moment—not in case numbers, but in the fact that someone's husband is gone and the city is still figuring out what went wrong.

Inventor

The cases dropped 88 percent from peak to week eighteen. Isn't that a victory?

Model

It's a trend, not a victory. The numbers are still being updated. And even as Juiz de Fora's curve bends, it's still ninety percent of the state's cases. You're watching the fire burn down, but you're still the fire.

Inventor

Why was vaccination so limited if the outbreak was so severe?

Model

Supply and criteria. The city didn't have enough vaccine, and the federal program had rules about who could receive it. You can't vaccinate everyone in a crisis—you have to choose. But in an outbreak, those choices become visible, and they hurt.

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