BUBONIC PLAGUE IN ZAIRE
The continuous media coverage of what is called a world-wide pandemic of the Coronavirus-19 has run out of superlatives. People appear to be terrified for their lives as they are exercising extreme measures to avoid contracting the upper respiratory illness which, in fact, has a far lower fatality rate than the various strains of flu that are dealt with every year. The vaccines developed for the flu, normally advertised repeatedly, don’t seem to be important this year.
There are very few who recall the Bubonic Plague and the fact that there were possibly 100 million who died, from 30% to 50% of the entire population of Europe. It was called the Black Death.
Well, that was over five centuries ago, and all that is left is a little song, “Ring around the Rosy, Pockets full of Posey” which is almost forgotten, and probably no longer sung by a rotating circle of girls, in the school playgrounds.
Google explains: “This is a reference to the children’s rhyme “Ring around the Rosy, Pockets full of Posey(flowers), Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down. This innocent-seeming rhyme conceals a grim secret. It’s a reference to the Black Death(Plague). The Posey, a small bouquet of flowers, was supposed to help ward it off. “We all fall down” (dead).”
I’ve also heard that the fragrance of the flowers in the pocket was to combat the stench of the unburied victims of the plague and that the ashes referred the residue left behind in the futile effort to slow the spread of the Black Death.
Now that we have antibiotics instead of flowers in our pockets we don’t think much about the Bubonic Plague. It still exists, however, and was something we dealt with at Rethy in Zaire.
I am here quoting an article from the Atlantic I found on line: “The Public Health England expert agrees that fleas and rats were part of the process. “Infected fleas can stick around for some weeks, waiting for a victim, to whom they transmit the infection,” Brooks explained. “This person will develop bubonic plague. Ten percent of people who have bubonic plague will develop pneumonia from the systemic spread, and in their dying hours will cough this up. People within 2 meters or less of the victim are at risk of infection through inhalation. They develop pneumonic plague, which can be transmitted to others as droplets. So if you have enough people who can be infected by fleas, you will have a good chance of getting some pneumonic cases. If these people live ten to a 3-meter by 3-meter room, they will get the disease as pneumonic plague, as will those who come to care for the dying family. They take it home to their loved ones and so on. Therefore, in the right social conditions, with the right circumstances to bring humans and rats together, and in a society where caring for relatives and neighbors was the thing, you get bubonic plague, followed by pneumonic plague.”
“Pneumonic plague outbreaks have high case-fatality rates in developing countries, reaching almost 100% in the absence of proper patient care.”
When we were at Rethy in the Orientale Province of Haute Zaire, (now called the Democratic Republic of Congo), the government program, “Santé pour Tous,” made an effort to contain the spread of what had become the Pneumonic plague in our area. The hospital at Rethy and the public health officials in the zone of Djugu were involved. The AIM missionary doctors at Rethy were working on public health measures and the USAID program had provided funding. The Editions CECA press printed materials to educate the population.
To help communicate the dangers I drew a poster. It showed a typical grass hut where the weeds and encroaching undergrowth hadn’t been cleared away from the back of the house and garbage just outside the door was attracting rats. Unwashed sufferias lay tipped sideways on the collapsed drying rack. The face of a rat peeped out from under a dented pan in the picture. Unrepaired holes at ground level in the corner of the house offered highways into the hut for rat traffic. I added a rat pictured coming out, much easier than recognizing one going in. The idea being communicated was that rats were carriers of the fleas that carried the germs.
They should rather have a clean well swept area around their home. Patch the holes in the house using clay mixed with broken glass to keep the rats from digging through again. Re-plaster the house with fresh cow-dung. Rebuild the drying rack for the washed cooking vessels and elevate it. Do everything possible to prevent fleas from being carried by the rats into your house. The second poster showed the contrast. The posters were printed at the press.
The printed booklets told the people about the symptoms of the disease and encouraged them not to visit the sick or sit with the family as they mourned one who had died. If the death was from the plague the relatives who gathered could all contract a highly contagious airborne form of the plague and die.
The health team traveled to areas where deaths were reported to administer antibiotics to the sick and to burn the houses where any had died. Since some who visited the sick could be carrying the pneumonic form of the disease wherever they went, barriers were set up on all the roads and major paths between villages. Barriers were in place around the Rethy mission station as well.
I have no idea what those barriers were like but other barriers I had encountered were either a long slender sapling resting on forked sticks on either side of the path, or a string of black wattle bark strips tied together to reach from one side of the road to the other. Those who had set up the barrier would have someone monitoring it. I suppose the one at each barrier set up by medical authorities had some sort of paper issued by the Zone health office in Djugu and endorsed by the Rethy Santé Rural. There would be smudged official stamps, possibly with different colored ink, and indecipherable fancy signatures.
Since the Academy was closed for vacation we didn’t have the kids to worry about. The dorm kitchen was closed so the order for the cooks to stay home presented no problem to the Academy, but many of the missionaries employed cooks to help them so they would have time for their ministry. The cooks were often far more skilled in food preparation than their employers, especially the young single missionary teachers who had just arrived and found out that no prepared food was available anywhere!
In spite of the barriers and precautions ordered by the health authorities some workers showed up anyway! They knew their employers couldn’t even make bread and needed help. They cheerfully explained that it was very easy to get around the barriers. Some of our faithful suppliers of fresh produce also arrived in spite of the restrictions. Where else could they sell their strawberries. Those small, sweet, wild berries were irresistible and they would be rotten in a couple days.
Somehow the disappointed cooks, workers, and vendors were eventually persuaded that all needed to abide by the rules made by the health authorities and not pass the barriers.
Helping the ones who had no idea how to cook was a project undertaken by the more experienced missionary cooks. Sharing meals and recipes eventually resulted in a practical little cookbook put together by Marilyn Helms, the Doctor’s wife, which started with Ellen’s everyday practical recipes to which was added favorite dishes from each missionary. They called the cookbook “You Mean I Have to Make My Own Ketchup?” and it was printed at the Rethy press. I can’t recall stress remotely like what is now portrayed by the spread of COVID-19 but each of us is created differently and each has different gifts and tasks to do for God. Of course I wasn’t the one doing the cooking at our house.
The mission station had been there for years with buildings made of brick having cut lawns surrounding each. The likelihood of rats carrying infected fleas who had picked up the bacteria from other infected wild rats was extremely low. We had missionaries who had lived there for years and knew how to help the new staff. There were also antibiotics, not just a Posy in a pocket, available at the hospital and there were doctors who knew how to administer the medicines.
No missionary prayer times were cancelled, the CECA church continued to meet as did other churches found between the barriers and eventually the travel restrictions around Rethy were removed.
I can’t recall why we opted to use the Blukwa route to travel to Bunia to do the dorm shopping, but very probably because the main road through Djugu wasn’t passable. The Blukwa route was less direct following smaller, winding roads with many intersections. There were no road signs and it was impossible to remember the turns, so we frequently had to stop to ask directions from men carrying heavy loads on their bicycles to some market. Before traveling to Bunia I would normally go to the Kwandruma market to get news about the road. It wasn’t unusual to hear this reply, “Njia haiku” when asking about the condition of the road to Bunia. (Literally, there is no road.) Spotting an over-loaded, mud-spattered Toyota Stout that had just arrived from Bunia I usually discovered that his 100-mile trip had taken two days. I didn’t like taking the back roads, but we did need to purchase supplies for the coming school term.
As we followed the infrequently used winding roads, lined with black wattle trees, we passed very few people and began wishing we would find someone to confirm we were still on the way to Blukwa. We had previously found there are many roads that end up at Blukwa and we might be circling around by now. We had sent a radio message to Viola Gifford that we were coming that way and she had invited us to stay with her.
Finally, we saw some people up ahead. As we got nearer I saw a barrier across the road, the more permanent type, using a long slender black wattle sapling. The men controlling the right to travel down the road looked to be some sort of medical authorities since one wore a white coat and carried something like a clip-board with papers attached. Even though I didn’t see any soldiers with guns it seemed wise to cooperate without any sign of resistance, though I must admit I don’t readily agree to being controlled by anyone.
We approached slowly and when summoned drove up to the man with the clipboard. The barrier had apparently been put in place by the Santé Rural authorities. I was asked if I had received my shot for pest, (Attenuated Yersinia vaccine against the plague), I informed him that I had not. When he learned that we were Paul and Ellen Brown from Rethy, and was convinced that we were going to see Viola Gifford at Blukwa he allowed us to pass. Viola had informed those manning the barriers that we were coming. She was an AIM nurse, working with the Santé Rural in their effort to control the spread of the plague, and would administer the vaccine to us. We received it, became very sick, got well, and used the certificate given, to later exit the quarantined area and continue on to Bunia to buy three tons of supplies for the dorm.
I know I don’t like barriers put in my way, to force any change in my plans for me. The barriers keeping possible carriers of the plague out of Rethy were easy to understand. I was now certain I wasn’t a carrier and couldn’t bring it to others. I also had to accept that these barriers were set up in a valid effort by the government to stop the spread of a very deadly disease, not set up by some local chief to detain those using the road in order to coerce them to contribute before they are allowed to travel.
I still think of that little practical cookbook Ellen and Marilyn Helms made and wish I had a copy to share with some who are now struggling to prepare food for their family. God promises to care for those who seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness. He knows what we need.
I like the assurance in the Bible that there is a way to heal the land. When God communicates to his people and decides to remind them of His Authority and stops the rain, sends locusts to devour the land, or sends pestilence among His people; He also offers the solution to the situation stating:
“2Ch 7:14 If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.
Are we ready to humbly admit that in ourselves we can do nothing; we are all as an unclean thing, and all our good deeds are as filthy rags; all our efforts are worthless, even trillions of dollars, and He alone provides everlasting life through Jesus.