A BUZZ IN MY EAR.
In the stillness of the night, those dreadful moments feared by many, I’m awoken. My whole body itching me that sleep quickly vanishes. I can hear it clearly now, in my discomfort it speaks to me, in my sleep it sings to my ears, it’s a constant hum in my dreams, a visitor I can never reject. It has no other job but to search for blood, something so small, yet its works so many. Budget after budget, its neglected by people who are worst hit by its effects, the western world spends fortunes to control and eradicate something they read about only in book.
It’s too little to be remembered, yet it kills an average or I child every 30 seconds in my continent (Africa) The average African sees it as the least of his problem.
I’m at home now, a house heavily guarded with mosquito nets at every window or door yet I feel this way, and I cannot help but remember those whose lives begins and ends in the streets, should I open my door to those who seek refuge from these blood suckers? I doubt it will make a difference in the world, Should I say I’m fortunate being here, I would think myself inhuman.
I’ve known it all in my life, its been there for me, its has stood by me in joy and sorrow, it has never showed contempt or anger towards me, and here I am again, its here, singing to my ears, I cant help but calling it a friend in need, because its here with me and will be here with me till the day breaks.
It something I have to live with now, a friend who visits without prior notice, and leaves without saying goodbye. I’m sleepy once again, and all around me I hear them humming around me in search of flesh. I treated for malaria 4 times last year, and my only prayer now, is that I don’t add to this outrageous statistic.
I saw a few minor errors in there, though:
