
Mr Peter Waiswa, 24, a mechanic at Katwe, a Kampala City suburb. PHOTO/ COURTESY OF PETER WAISWA
The spread of monkeypox disease, also known as Mpox, has been rampant across the country, especially among sex workers, in the hotspot areas. For Peter Waiswa, 24, a mechanic at Katwe, a Kampala City suburb, the disease wreaked both a physical and emotional toll, isolation and stigma.
“Life was normal for me, but it all changed when I woke up with a fever. This was the onset of the Mpox viral disease that presents with rash and other symptoms that include flu-like illnesses such as fever, headache, and malaise.
At first, the fever seemed ordinary with a mild headache, muscle aches, and chills. Since malarial attacks and flu are common in my workplace, I thought the fever was from one of those incidents.
So, I ignored the symptoms, but after only days, strange bumps appeared on my palms and face, which I mistook to be mosquito bites. But the itches became incessant and turned into painful blisters.
By morning, the bumps had quickly spread to my arms, chest, back, and face. They became sore and the pain unbearable. I could barely sleep or eat.
My wife was so scared and convinced me to visit a health centre nearby in Kabuusu. I paid Shs150,000 for drugs and smearing oil.
The nurses examined me with unease but told me they had handled similar cases in the past few weeks and suspected it might be Mpox disease. I thought the disease afflicted only other countries and maybe upcountry regions.
The nurses explained that Mpox is a viral infection similar to smallpox but less severe. Hearing “smallpox” frightened me. I knew it was a disease that killed many people long ago.
I was given painkillers and other medication to manage my symptoms, and the sensation of burning skin.
They referred me to a government-run Kitebi hospital nearby, where tests were done and returned positive for Mpox disease.
The tests and medication cost me Shs300,000.
I did not improve and after three days, I was transferred to an isolation centre in Entebbe.
This, they said, would give proper care and avoid spreading the disease.
I was hesitant and did not want to leave my family, but I also did not want to expose them to the strange disease.
At the Uganda Virus Research Institute (UVRI) in Entebbe, I was taken to an isolation unit for people with suspected or confirmed cases of Mpox. The room was stark and lonely, with no familiar faces around.
The health workers wore full protective gear.
Although they were kind, the barrier between us made me feel isolated.
Specific medications were given to us including a white ointment to apply to the blisters.
All transactions for services and medications were only done through mobile money.
My wife sent all the savings we had to ensure I healed and returned to work.
As the days passed by, slowly blisters crusted and started to heal, but then the emotional toll became heavier than the physical pain. I missed my family terribly, especially during the festive season.
My wife would call me occasionally, but our tight connection was not as before as I could sense the tightness in her voice.
She told me people in the village were talking about me, and some were saying I was cursed, while others claimed I had brought a dangerous disease to the community. Even the health workers, although professional, seemed cautious around me.
All these made me feel like I was a danger to everyone, even after I started recovering.
Nevertheless, I understood their fear of the contagious viral disease.
After three weeks in isolation, the doctors said I could return home. By then, the lesions had all nearly dried up. It was relieving to go back home, but I didn’t anticipate the challenges that awaited me.
Back home, people avoided me and some even crossed to the opposite side of the road to avoid meeting me.
My wife told me that customers at her market stall stopped buying from her as though I had brought disgrace to my family by contracting the Mpox disease.
I have tried to explain to the community that Mpox wasn’t a curse or a punishment. But many did not want to listen. Ignorance and fear of Mpox have taken root, and no amount of explanation could change the community’s mindset.
Awareness about Mpox disease is scanty and people are ignorant of how it spreads.
The scars on my skin remind me of what I went through, but they also show my resilience.
The Mpox disease tested me in ways I never expected, but I survived. Now, my goal is to ensure no one else in my community faces the same stigma and isolation.
Treating Mpox disease is costly. I have spent nearly Shs800,000 since I started treatment from clinics and also at the isolation centre in Entebbe.
Together, we can fight the disease and the ignorance that makes it so much harder to overcome.
About Mpox
According to the World Health Organisation, Mpox is an infectious disease that can cause a painful rash, fever, headache, muscle ache, back pain and low energy. Most people fully recover, but some get very sick.
Mpox spreads from person to person through close contact including touching, having sex, kissing someone who has mpox and also being face-to-face with someone who has mpox (such as talking or breathing close to one another, which can generate infectious respiratory particles).