... after reporting on Malian musicians against malaria, I returned to Liberia and suddenly the M-word was everywhere.

Tehibou Bagayoko. Photo by Grant Fuller.

An unlucky friend next door got her fifth malaria diagnosis in one year. A young colleague sat in the radio station lobby, sweating and shaking with malaria, on his way to take fluids at the clinic. Our staff accountant and friend was hit with the dreaded malaria/typhoid combo and spent his birthday in a hospital bed. Another young woman at work rested her head on the keyboard, working with malaria in favor of staying home alone. It was all a bit weird. Maybe I just became more aware of it, like when you're in the market for a new car and you keep seeing it everywhere.

Regardless, it was enough to make me rethink the wisdom of my recent decision to stop taking daily anti-malarial meds that had been giving me a stomach ache. While malaria itself hasn't caught up with me (knock on wood), it has affected me in other ways.

I stopped in Guinea on the way home. Sure enough, the hotel room didn't have a mosquito net -- and sure enough, I was eaten alive, hopelessly swatting at mosquitoes all night long. Then, when I got to my house, they were waiting for me. I had been too lazy to hang the mosquito net, but another long night of bites forced me to hang the thing once and for all.

When you report from this part of the world, sometimes your life overlaps with your story. And malaria is a big part of life in West Africa.

How has the M-word personally affected your life? Please leave me a comment, below, and let's compare notes.

Listen to Grant's story on how artists in Mali are using the stage to educate people about malaria.