As night fell on Bangladesh, I felt the tell-tale tickle on my ankle. Looking down, I saw a red, swollen place with a small white welt in the middle. I'd been bitten by a mosquito.
It shouldn't have been a big deal. I grew up camping in the Canadian north, and am intimately acquainted with mosquito bites. As a child who resisted bug spray, I was often covered by veritable constellations of itchy redness. But beyond driving me crazy in my sleeping bag at night, the bites had no real consequences.
Mosquito bites mean something different in many parts of the world. Working for an international aid and development agency, I've learned about the dangers of malaria, an infectious disease transmitted by the bite of an infected female mosquito. I recall the president of our organization contracting malaria two years ago, after travelling to Africa.
"For the first time in my life, I had a fever so high that I struggled to speak, or even think," says Dave Toycen, recalling his bout with malaria. The expert care of Canadian medical teams meant Dave was quickly diagnosed and treated. But the episode was terrifying.
That's why, before heading off this month on a World Vision trip to Asia, I visited a doctor who:
- Scoured a map of the route I'd be travelling, noting the malaria zones
- Wrote a two-week prescription for pills to guard against infection
- Strongly recommended that I also use insect repellent
I dutifully consumed the tablets, each night, with a meal. But I made the decision to leave the bug spray behind when learning that our luggage limit for travel on a small seaplane was just 8 kg. I'm likely perfectly well. But when that first mosquito bit, I wondered about the dozens of Bangladeshi children we were spending time with that evening.
For many of the world's children, the setting sun brings the threat of malaria-infected mosquitos.
On World Malaria Day, I think about the millions of children who have no bug spray -- not ever -- and no medication to guard against infection. I think about two-year-old Josepha, a toddler in Angola whose mother brought her to hospital burning up with fever. It was malaria. Josepha was also battling acute malnutrition and diarrhea, two other very common threats to the life of a child. All in all, her little system was in no way prepared to deal with this potentially deadly infection.
Josepha battles the deadly malaria virus in an Angolan hospital.
"It's no way for any human being to leave the world," says Dave Toycen, "burning up with fever, struggling for breath, perhaps in a coma and unable to say goodbye. But it's especially heartbreaking when it's a child whose life has only just begun."
Despite recent progress in malaria prevention, about half the world's population still lives in malaria risk areas. The illness remains a leading cause of death amongst young children, with one child dying every 60 seconds. You want to wrap your arms around these kids. They deal with so much already, in their constant, grinding battle against poverty. They deserve the chance to sleep peacefully at night, without being infected by deadly bug bites.
In Sri Lanka, a Canadian donor provided Sivanesa and her baby with a mosquito net and a safe night's sleep.
An insecticide-coated mosquito net is a simple way to make this possible. Several family members can sleep comfortably under a single net, available through the World Vision Gift Catalogue. World Vision also teaches parents to recognize infection in their little ones, so doctors and hospitals can treat them with a simple oral medication.
Donating a net is an easy thing to do -- and a powerful one. Now if this hapless Canadian would just take her bug spray along next time!
In Mozambique, Delfina (red shirt) and her friends have sleepovers under the mosquito net World Vision provided.
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