RWANDA – I arrived with a yellow fever vaccination, a two-week dose of antimalarial pills and a traveller’s wardrobe of long-sleeved shirts and long pants. In tropical Africa, the threat of diseases loomed large.
But I had not anticipated the new, deadlier clade Ib strain of the mpox virus, which was declared a global public health emergency by the World Health Organisation on Aug 14, the day I landed in Rwanda.
The landlocked African nation was among four countries neighbouring the Democratic Republic of Congo, where clade Ib emerged, that had also reported cases of the new mpox strain.
As at mid-August, Rwanda had four mpox cases. In total, more than 100 cases of clade Ib had been reported in Rwanda, Burundi, Kenya and Uganda since July.
To ward off the disease, experts and governments recommended a “high level of personal hygiene”, among other measures.
An update from Singapore’s Ministry of Health on Sept 4 said “mpox can be spread through close contact with respiratory tract secretions, skin lesions and bodily fluids of an infected person or animal, as well as recently contaminated objects or surfaces”.
It added that, in adults, mpox was transmitted primarily through close physical contact with infected individuals, while in children, it was mainly spread via physical contact in households, playtime and exposure to wild game. Compared with Covid-19, mpox was less infectious.
But I quickly realised that while travelling, my well-being was not limited to preventing mpox. It was also about wayfinding – navigating roads and public transport – as well as forging connections with locals that would give my trip meaning.
I was anxious, of course, and could minimise risk by cloistering myself from all interactions. But how would that be practical or fulfilling?
Instead, I sought balance. To locals, especially children, who flocked to me for high-fives and handshakes in small towns, I offered instead an elbow bump – and a smile. I feared they would find the gesture aloof, but my guide applauded it.
“It is better, in case some people have diseases,” he said.
After long transits, where I sat thigh-to-thigh with strangers in a cramped minibus, I cleaned my bags with antibacterial wipes.
I did the same with my phone, after it was passed around by motorbike taxi drivers who took turns to peer at my destination on Google Maps before discussing the route in Kinyarwanda, the national language. I tried not to imagine the spittle accumulating on my screen.
I was also assured by public health measures, such as hand-washing stations set up outside shops and properties.
Water is precious in the country, sold at public taps in capital city Kigali for around 20 Rwandan francs (25 Singapore cents) for 20 litres.
But Rwanda, known for high levels of safety and security relative to its neighbours, is intent on keeping mpox at bay. Government officials have advised caution and I saw security guards keeping watch at a hand-washing station outside a retail complex, a measure one resident told me was also in place during Covid-19.
I have learnt from the pandemic, which is believed to have zoonotic origins – the transmission of disease from animal to human.
On an island-hopping day trip, I backed away from a tree of roosting bats, known to be a host of many deadly viruses including Ebola, Nipah and the Sars-CoV-2 virus that causes Covid-19. Perhaps this particular colony was fine, but I did not want to take chances.
I also, more reluctantly, peeled myself away from a herd of dairy cows, whose farmers had walked them through fields and rivers for me to witness their milking as part of a tour.
My guide invited me to milk them and assured me repeatedly that the cows were friendly. They were, in fact, quite adorable. But it was their rivulets of dribbling saliva, rather than their horns, that rendered me content with taking photographs from a distance.
This will not be the last major virus my generation encounters. Borders are too porous and the economics of tourism too powerful for them to remain shut. Travel will remain an ongoing quest for balance, as people seek both safety and excitement while conquering new frontiers.
On this journey, mpox is but a bump in the road. And if we cross paths again, I will be less anxious next time – while still taking all the sensible precautions.
