Success Story #92

Elise Lang was formerly an Intern with the Malaria Policy Center, here is her experience with Malaria in Africa.

During the summer of 2008, I worked at a local elementary school in Tanzania teaching 2^nd graders English and Science. Everyday, I walked along dirt roads, past orange and banana trees, around ditches filled with rain water and half burned piles of trash.  

One day while I was teaching and explaining the difference between "there is" and "there are" in English, the classroom teacher interrupted me and pulled me aside. She said she felt sick, probably had malaria and she was going to go to the hospital, could I take over for her. I was stunned at first. Teach all of the classes by myself?? Of course of course, just go to the doctor. I stared at the class for a second as she left then shook myself out of it and continued with my lesson. I survived that day by mimicking how I had watched her conduct the other classes such as Math and Kiswahili over the past weeks but I hoped she would return the next day after getting medication. She didn't show up the next day, or the next, or the day after that. I didn't see her for a week. 

If I hadn't been there, there wouldn't have been a teacher and the students would most likely have been sent home. They would have missed a week of school and fallen behind in their studies. 

Tanzanians can have malaria five or six times within one transmission season which in Tanzania lasts from May to October. If the teacher or children are out for a week or even a few days, they've missed a lot and it's hard to catch up. If they were sick once or twice a year, it wouldn't be as hard but because it is a recurring event with every student in the classroom, it's practically impossible for them to be at the same level and have them all succeed.

I walked to and from school each morning, with the hot equator sun beating down on me. Wearing a long skirt and a three-quarter length shirt, I was boiling. I always brought a water bottle with me to prevent dehydration but one morning, I was feeling more light-headed and tired than I should have. I shrugged it off as fatigue or as a result of the heat but the next few days, nothing changed. By the third day I barely had the energy to stand up in front of the class not to mention walk the 15 minutes to the school.

The next day was Saturday and feeling worse and sick to my stomach, I decided it was time to say something. A friend with the same symptoms and I were driven to the hospital. It was a white one story building, with a couple of offices, an examination room and rooms in the back for sick patients. The waiting room was outside on benches. I held my head in my hands trying to ease the pain and anticipation. I hadn't even thought to check my temperature the past few days.

Should have brought a thermometer, I said to myself. My name was called; a large African woman with a colorful circle pattern shirt sat me down and asked me how I was feeling. I told her. She took my temperature. You have a fever, Miss. Ok, well that would explain something. I'm going to get you tested for malaria, she told me. I went back outside to wait my turn to see the doctor and take the test. I was nervous. I had been taking malaria pills, putting on bug spray every chance I got, sleeping under a mosquito net and yet I was here at a Tanzanian hospital in a small coastal town waiting my turn to get tested.

A young father holding his small daughter in his arms arrived and sat down near us. Children here are colorful, full of energy and life; They're always talking, singing or dancing. Yet this little girl who was no older than three or four years old was weak. Her eyes were closed but she wasn't sleeping. She leaned limply against her father's chest. Her father held her close, wiping her forehead and entwining her tiny fingers in his. She had it, I was sure.

I felt so badly being worried for myself when I looked at this girl deprived of the joy of childhood by this disease. And surely, this was not her first time getting it. She'd probably had it a least five times in her lifetime. She was lucky that she had survived up until this point, showing that her father had the money to pay for the medication.

My name was called again, the doctor pricked my finger and told me to wait for the result. I sat back down and looked around. There were mothers, grandmothers, infants and children of every age group. A grandmother held a baby in her arms while talking to the secretary at the desk. I couldn't understand what she was saying but I learned later that she couldn't pay for the medication and was fighting to get it for free. My name was called for the third and last time. "You have malaria," the same African woman said to me. I think my jaw dropped but I remained calm. She told me how to take the medications and left me to go pay. $9.46- for seeing the doctor, getting the test and the medications. 

Used to the US where I pay at least a co-pay of 25 dollars just to see the doctor, I was ecstatic; 10 dollars, that's nothing! But remembering where I was it came into a whole new perspective. These people, my neighbors, were living on about a dollar a day. How are you supposed to save up with an income like that? How are you supposed to treat your five children on that income? I walked out completely shamed. 

The parasite could kill those kids if they don't get the medication and here I am, a student from the US walking out without thinking how it's going to affect my budget or how I'm going to pay for food in the coming days and weeks. I took the medication and I was already feeling better by the next afternoon. 

I was lucky to catch it early, not suffer from a severe case and still have the ability to teach. Malaria is a devastating disease because although it is deadly, it is preventable. It keeps children and teachers out of school and adults out of work creating an unending cycle of poverty. You could bring in the best teachers from around the world to improve education but if the kids aren't there, how can it have an extensive impact? This is why it is important that we continue to progress in vaccine developments, to distribute affordable medications and bed nets and to support Africa in its fight against malaria which is one of the underlying problems of the poverty across the continent.