My name is Kayla Bronder and I have Jiggers...Kenya Week 29: April 18-April 24

At first I thought it was Poison Ivy. The red, swollen, itchy skin reminded me of my almost yearly encounters with that cursed plant back home. But how could I get Poison Ivy only on the tip of my left big toe and my right second toe? That’s weird. But it really itches. And the skin is pretty red. Hmmm...well whatever it is, I’m sure it will go away in a few days.

A few days later I noticed the tale tell quarter inch wide white halo with a black dot in the center. Right on the end of my toe nail.

No.

Absolutely not.

It can’t be.

I ALWAYS wear closed shoes when I’m out in the community. My house has a nicely tiled floor. And I shower everyday, which always includes a thorough scrubbing of my feet.

That CANNOT actually be a jigger. I would have notice before it got that big!

Turns out I was wrong. It was not only one jigger. But four. Two big ones along my toe nails and two small jiggers attempting to sneak their way into the sides of my toes.

My initial reaction was embarrassment. How could I not have noticed bugs digging into my feet? And why did I convince myself for three full days that it was some strain of Africa poison ivy rather than actually taking a closer look? Maybe I shouldn’t wear my flip flops when I go down for dinner. I don’t want the other volunteers or priests to notice!

Right alongside embarrassment was disgust. Those are living, breathing parasites burrowed inside my toes! THAT IS DISGUSTING. That white halo with the black dot in the center suddenly takes on a whole new meaning when it’s inside your own toe rather than that of a 7 year old boy running around without shoes.

So my toes itch, I’m feeling a bit queasy at the thought of the living insects inside my skin, and I’m totally ashamed that I’ve allowed the very parasites I’m working to eradicate dig into my feet.

Now what do I do?

The first step to overcoming a difficulty is acknowledging your problerm. I’ll break through the social stigma and admit that I have a problem. Here goes...

My name is Kayla Bronder and I have jiggers.

Thankfully in the past seven months I’ve become something of an expert jigger remover. Cutting out the little buggers was quite easy although not entirely painless. While digging away at my feet, I thought to myself how different it is to remove your own jiggers rather than someone else’s. The sharp pain as the razor digs too deep instantly tells me to stop. Whereas the poor children can only cry and pray I don’t do that again. And I realized that the removal of the jiggers is only the beginning. The swelling and itching actually worsens for a few days after the flea is removed as the body heals itself. Rather than being relieved to finally have the jiggers out of their hands and feet, our poor patients go home in even more pain than before.

The good news is that I’m three days post operation and I’m healing well. And as I overcome my embarrassment and disgust, the swelling and itching slowly fade.

The small circular scabs ground me in the humanity behind the parasites I’ve been working to eradicate. Tungiasis is no longer a disease that affects only the poorest of the poor living in mud huts. As the saying goes: If you play with fire, you’ll get burned. Or in my case: If you fight jiggers, they’ll eat your toes.

In a way, I’m thankful for the experience. Before I came to Kenya, I told my mother that I hoped I would get just one, mild case of some tropical disease I had studied in my social work class. Of course that comforted any fears she had about her daughter living half way around the world. But I was thinking maybe a bought of malaria or some general diarrheal disease. Nothing serious, just something to make my whole experience in Africa complete. I’ve been here almost 7 months and I’ve never felt healthier in my life. No malarial fevers, not even occasional nausea. A few jiggers qualify as that mild tropical disease I’d hoped for and I’ve escaped relatively unscathed. So don’t worry Mom.

More importantly, the experience has forced me to reflect on the very real dangers that people face everyday in Africa. My white skin or my American passport does not make me immune to those dangers.
Is it worth it? Absolutely.
Would I do it over again? Without a doubt.
Am I looking forward to returning as soon as possible? Definitely.

But next time I’ll pay closer attention to any mysterious, poison ivy-like itching.