World Malaria Month!

I like routines and order. I like doing similar things, in a similar order every day.

Upon entering our kitchen for the first time in the morning, I fill the kettle with water for our tea, and I set the table with the following: plates, spoons, peanut butter, honey, bread, tea cups—and one Doxycycline pill beside my plate.

When I set the table for dinner, in addition to the salt and Mitmita (HOT Ethiopian spice) that I place in the table’s center, I put one Doxycycline pill beside my husband’s plate.

I have an “emergency pack” of Doxycycline in the back zipper portion of my purse, just in case we go to a restaurant for breakfast or dinner. I am quite anal-retentive about keeping this pouch stocked and re-filled at all times. When we went home to America for three weeks last summer, or to Germany last fall, I was still taking my pill every morning, and Daniel every evening, to keep it in our system.

This is how we help stomp Malaria out of our household. How do we remember to take our daily pill? By embracing routine. One time Daniel accidentally took two of the pills in a five-minute period (which led to a concerned call to the doctor). But we barely ever forget to take it.

Other ways we stomp Malaria out of our household:

- We sleep under a bed net every night (it hangs from four of our bedroom walls, closing our bed in like a beautiful princess canopy). Daniel may prefer to think of it as an intimidating military fort. However you think of it, this net is not only a physical barrier between us and nighttime critters, but it is also treated with insecticide to kill bugs that land on it.

- Our bathroom window is not fool-proof. While all our windows have screens (ironically, the screens were made from old bed nets, by the volunteers who lived here before us), there’s a large hole in our bathroom screen that duct tape won’t fix. Because the female Anopheles mosquito that carries Malaria from person to person, home to home, generally comes out from 10PM to 2AM at night, I shut the bathroom shutters as soon as dusk hits. The one or two times we’ve forgotten, and it was 9:30 before I shut them, I got nervous, like a child knowing the Boogie Man is on its way.

- If we go out at night, we wear long sleeves and pants, and wear bug spray.

How it Spreads

Did you know that Malaria is passed from person to person? The female Anopheles mosquito bites an infected person, and then promptly bites another person, giving him or her the parasite. So when a person sleeps under a bed net, she is not only protecting everyone sharing a room and house with her, but all of her nearest neighbors, and hence, her entire community. Likewise, every person who neglects to take precautions against Malaria is not only putting herself at risk—but her entire community as well.

We didn’t understand how dangerous, unnecessary (preventable), and deadly Malaria is, until we came to Africa.

There is a myth that “Malaria’s not so bad, if you’re used to it”—that people who grow up in regions where Malaria is prevalent, build an immunity strong enough to protect them.

This is a myth. Every year, over one million people are killed by Malaria. In 2009, it was estimated that one child dies every 45 seconds from Malaria. Today, one child dies every minute. But if all children slept under insecticide-treated bed nets, the number of children dying from Malaria could be decreased by half. In 2010, Malaria’s death toll was 1.2 million. According to The Africa Malaria Report, Malaria is the single greatest killer of children under five, and is a dangerous threat to pregnant women and their newborns.

When we visited Uganda, our friend in her 50s or 60s walked around her home in her mumu and an IV attached to her arm. She had a severe case of Malaria.

Last year, one of our own Peace Corps volunteers serving in Ghana died of severe Malaria.

It’s preventable. And yet it’s sobering to see how few people are attempting to prevent it in their own homes and lives. I remember seeing two bed nets (Wela’s and Mebrit’s), of all the many houses we’ve visited in our community in the past two years.

Odd idiosyncrasies surrounding the use of bed nets:

1. Most Ethiopians prefer conical bed nets to the boxy four-corner ones (like my princess canopy). They may opt not to hang a free four-corner bed net in their home, because it’s “not fashion.” It’s too large and too cumbersome for their tiny one-or-two-room house. (Thankfully, you can change a four-corner bed net into a conical shape. Ethiopian Pinterest, anyone?)
2. Folks like new things. Like my dad and I who never remove the protective transparent sticker from our cellphone faces (“It stays nicer, longer!”), some Ethiopians, when given a brand new bed net, are much more likely to use it if it has first been removed from its bag. But if you give it to them in its original packaging, the life-saving net may find its way on a shelf or under the bed, so it can be kept nice and new.

It's preventable, and people are dying. Education is key. Information is key. Malaria myths are nearly as prevalent as Malaria. Some Ethiopian towns where Malaria used to be rare, (because they’re at an altitude of above 2,000 meters), are now experiencing warmer rainy seasons that welcome the Anopheles mosquitos to migrate. Climate change at its worst. And yet those living in the towns still think they’re safe to sleep without nets and keep their windows open at night.

“Malaria” in Tigrigna is “Aso.” I find the pronunciation, and what it sounds like in English, appropriate. Malaria is the dangerous punk roaming our worldwide neighborhoods, and we keep inviting him in. It’s time we shut him out for good.

Check out Peace Corps’  Stomp Out Malaria Facebook  page for more information. See what Peace Corps volunteers are doing around the world to finally stomp this deadly, preventative disease completely out. 

After you do that, watch this short video.