Kinshasa — The rain was falling softly over Kinshasa that morning, almost as if the city itself was weeping for what had been lost. I remember sitting by the window of the café, watching the droplets race down the glass, feeling a sense of dread that was hard to shake. Across the street, the usual bustling energy seemed subdued, and I wondered how many people in this city were quietly fighting a battle against a virus many still didn’t understand—mpox, formerly known as monkeypox.
In the past two years, mpox virus has made its presence deeply felt in this part of the world, a virus that has taken lives, disrupted communities, and spread fear. With over 14,500 reported infections and more than 450 deaths this year alone, the outbreak that began in the Democratic Republic of the Congo has now rippled into neighboring nations. And with each new case, the question grows louder: why is mpox spreading so quickly, and how can we stop it?
Understanding Mpox: What You Need to Know
Mpox isn’t new, but the way it has spread in recent years feels almost like a betrayal—a disease that, for decades, remained largely contained within the remote jungles of Central Africa. The virus, caused by the monkeypox virus (a relative of smallpox), has long been endemic to this region. But what we’re seeing now is a surge of cases that has scientists and health officials alike on edge. Why? Because the new variant, known as clade 1b, isn’t behaving like its predecessors.
Mpox Symptoms: Early Warning Signs
The early days of an mpox infection feel familiar—eerily so. A fever creeps in, accompanied by headaches, muscle aches, and an exhaustion that weighs heavily on the body. For many, it feels like the flu. But then something more sinister takes over: painful rashes start to appear, often beginning on the face before spreading to the hands, feet, and eventually the rest of the body. These rashes blister, crust over, and eventually leave scars—both physical and emotional.
But it’s not just the physical pain that lingers. I spoke to a woman in Bukavu, a small city near the Rwandan border, who had contracted the virus earlier this year. Her voice trembled as she recounted her experience. “It was like my body wasn’t mine anymore. I couldn’t touch my children, I couldn’t go to the market. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the rashes, and I wondered—will people ever see me as more than my scars?”
Her story is not unique. While many cases of mpox clear up within two to three weeks, the psychological toll can last much longer, especially in communities where stigma is still rampant.
How Does Mpox Spread? The Truth Behind Transmission
Mpox is highly contagious, and its spread is a harsh reminder of how interconnected our lives truly are. The virus can pass from one person to another through close physical contact—touching, kissing, even something as innocent as sharing a bed with an infected person. And during the 2022 outbreak that shocked the world, we saw just how fast it could move through sexual networks, particularly among men who have sex with men. But here in Central Africa, the virus is spreading through more than just sexual contact.
Health officials have pointed to the frequent interactions between people and infected animals—monkeys, rats, squirrels—as another significant source of transmission. I remember speaking to a doctor in Goma who told me about a local boy who contracted the virus after handling a dead animal in the forest. “He didn’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “He was just a child, but now his whole family is quarantined.”
Mpox transmission doesn’t stop at human-to-human contact or zoonotic sources. The virus can survive on surfaces—clothing, bedding, towels—long after an infected person has left them behind, waiting silently to infect its next victim. It’s a cruel reminder of how relentless this virus is.
Who Is Most at Risk? Vulnerable Populations
When we think about mpox, we have to consider those who are most vulnerable. Here in the Congo, the virus has a cruel tendency to target children under 15—young lives, full of promise, cut down before they can fully bloom. But it’s not just children who are at risk. Sexually active adults, especially men who have multiple partners, are particularly vulnerable to this fast-spreading strain. And yet, there’s something deeply unfair about how this virus picks its targets. It doesn’t care about wealth, status, or power. It simply spreads, indiscriminately, through the most intimate of human connections.
The WHO has also warned about the risk to healthcare workers, who are often on the front lines, caring for the infected with limited protective equipment. “We do our best,” one nurse in Kampala told me, “but every day, I go home afraid. Afraid for myself, and for my children.”
Preventing the Spread: Can Vaccines Save Us?
There is hope, though, in the form of vaccines. While mass vaccination campaigns haven’t been rolled out across Africa, select groups—particularly healthcare workers and those who have been in close contact with infected individuals—have access to vaccines for mpox. But the real challenge is getting these vaccines to the people who need them most. Supply chains are stretched thin, and in many regions, access to basic healthcare is a struggle in itself.
The World Health Organization has been working tirelessly to coordinate a global response, calling on pharmaceutical companies to ramp up production of mpox vaccines. But we are still far from where we need to be. As the virus spreads beyond the Congo into neighboring countries like Burundi, Uganda, and Rwanda, the urgency becomes even more palpable. Each new infection is a reminder of how interconnected our world truly is—and how vulnerable we all are when a virus crosses borders.
Call to Action: We Can’t Look Away
As I sit here, finishing my coffee, I think about the people I’ve met—those who are fighting this virus with everything they have. And I can’t help but wonder: how many more stories like theirs will we hear before the world pays attention? Mpox may feel far away for some, but for millions, it’s already at their doorstep. And if we don’t act now—if we don’t push for better access to vaccines, for more support for the healthcare workers on the front lines—this virus will continue to spre
