The April 2012 issue of Harper’s Magazine
has an article that is worth the price of the magazine: “Slipping Through the
Net: Cambodia’s border war against drug-resistant malaria” (pp. 39-47), by
Matthew Power, a contributing editor. (Don’t worry about the cost, since there
is more in the issue worth reading, including a short story by Alice Munro and
a thoughtful piece on the growing use of mercenaries around the world.)
It turns out that until recently the news about malaria has
been relatively good. Thanks to the generosity of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and dedicated professionals in the World Health Organization, the
fight against malaria has been progressing well. Rates of infection have been
falling, and in some parts of the world it appears the disease has been
eradicated. Besides, there are drugs available to treat the disease, and
efforts have been underway to educate people on the danger of malaria and to
make this treatment both widely and inexpensively available. Then, a team of
researchers discovered (and reported in the New
England Journal of Medicine) that the parasite that causes the disease has
developed resistance to the drug. The problem was uncovered in a remote area
along the Cambodian border with Thailand. It’s a crucial area in the fight
against the disease, since it has been shown that the disease in the past
migrates from there across the border into Myanmar (formerly Burma), then
across India to Africa, “where 90 percent of the world’s malaria cases occur.”
Mr. Power includes a paragraph in which he describes the process
of the disease: “Here is how it kills: the parasite enters the blood through
the slicing mouthparts and saliva of the Anopheles
mosquito. It finds its way to the liver, where for a week or a month it divides
asexually. Eventually, the swarm of parasites empties into the bloodstream,
where they colonize red blood cells and burst them from within. Then come waves
of fever followed by ebb tides of chills. The infected blood cells clump
together and stick to vessel walls to avoid being drawn into the blood’s
filters. Capillaries clog and hemorrhage; the whites of the eyes turn yellow,
the fingernails white, the blood itself pale orange. Anemia, vomiting, and
cramps follow. The spleen fills with destroyed blood cells and nearly doubles
with size. In the great majority of cases, symptoms clear with treatment, or
the victim recovers on his own, the disease little worse than a bad case of the
flu. But in severe cases, especially in pregnant women and young children, the
parasite overwhelms the host. The blood-brain barrier is breached, and cerebral
malaria ensues: coma, organ failure, and death can occur within hours. The
death of the host is of little evolutionary cost to the parasite. In the
fever-wrack, or the weeks of dormancy, a single Anopheles mosquito lands, gorges itself on parasite-laden blood,
and then flies away. A week later it feeds again, the falciparum [the malarial parasite] in its gut is transferred to a
new host, and the cycle begins anew” (p. 39).
Malaria used to appear in the United States but that day is
long past. Now it afflicts the poorest of the poor in a way that even when
recovery occurs their energy and productivity has been badly sapped. As I read
Power’s essay I reflected on how few mosquitoes I experience each summer, and
even when I do feel their bite I do not fear catching malaria. Those so
afflicted have far fewer resources with which to protect themselves.
I am not certain why I am posting this. I am grateful for
the Gates, because if malaria is to be defeated (as smallpox was), huge amounts
of funding will be required and I have no illusions that any donations I could
make to the cause would be miniscule. Nor am I in any position to do anything
directly. Once again, I am made aware of the brokenness of the world but can do
nothing about it.
I can pray, of course. Pray that drug-resistant strain will
be contained and eradicated, pray that more progress would occur beating back
the disease, pray grace on the many WHO workers who so selflessly give of
themselves to this work, pray that the King would return soon and restore the
mosquito to its rightful place in God’s good world.
Yes, I can pray—but it doesn’t seem like that’s enough.
This entry was posted
at Friday, March 16, 2012
and is filed under
Brokenness,
Prayer
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