It’s a question I encounter often, in that some people ask something along the lines of ‘Why have you spent all these years writing about issues affecting Africa and Malawi?’

And there are many reasons why, but the following are probably the most important reasons.

Firstly, it’s because I (and many others who write about these things) care about the subjects of our articles. I don’t suppose you’d spend years, in my case 12+ years writing about topics which you didn’t care about.

Secondly, it’s about exposure. Imagine you’re living in England in 1945, when the second world war has just ended, and life is particularly tough. Five years later, you decide you’ve had enough and were going to move to the Union of South Africa, in search for greener pastures. But getting there, you realise that most people are still using traditional medicines or sulphonamides to try and cure ailments including bacterial infections. Sulfonamides, themselves somewhat new, are known to cause serious side effects including allergic reactions, skin rashes, potential kidney damage, and blood disorders. Further, bacterial resistance rapidly develops due to overuse, ultimately limiting the drugs’ long-term effectiveness and prompting the search for more advanced antibiotics. So soon enough, you realise your new environment would benefit from this new drug called Penicillin, which has been proven to be very effective with few or no side effects.

Here, a short background is necessary: Before the advent of western developed medicines, Southern African communities relied on mixtures of traditional medicine to treat infections, primarily using powerful indigenous plants like Aloe Vera, African Wormwood, and Devil’s Claw, which possessed natural antibacterial and anti-inflammatory properties.

Traditional healers, known as sangomas (in Malawi, Sing’anga), approached infection treatment holistically, combining herbal remedies with spiritual healing practices and intricate knowledge of local medicinal plants. The Zulu and San people developed unique treatment methods, creating herbal mixtures and using natural antiseptics derived from plant resins and specific clay treatments to clean and heal wounds. These traditional approaches were not uniformly effective against all infections, particularly severe or systemic illnesses, but demonstrated a profound understanding of natural healing techniques passed down through generations.

So then, getting to your new environment, you begin to ask yourself, what will it take to get these communities to start using “modern” medicines like Penicillin more widely? Where should one start in trying to encourage widespread adoption? Mind you that in 1943 the cost of penicillin was US$200 per million units($3,700 in today’s money), and you don’t have that much money to set up a factory or a dispensary.

And so, by 1944, just before the D-Day landings in Europe, the price of Penicillin has dropped to US$35 per million units. And by 1950, when you arrive in South Africa, it had dropped to 50 cents per million units. But apart from import agents, Missionary Hospitals and Colonial governments, the medicine had not yet achieved widespread use among indigenous populations.

I know it’s hard to imagine someone asking such questions now because modern medicines have been widely adopted in most health systems across the world. But in 1940’s and 50’s, the situation wasn’t like that at all.

Today, modern scientific research is even looking to validate many of the traditional treatment methods used by indigenous population in some parts of the world, and is recognising the valuable medical knowledge embedded in healing practices used by certain ethnic communities. But it was never like this before.

My point is, often exposure to progressive ideas and new ways of doing things causes one to see problems in a different light. Thus, when you can clearly see how certain challenges across Africa can be tackled, using the knowledge you’ve obtained, but lack the resources to physically do something about it, your pen and paper, your ideas, is the least you can do to prescribe some solutions, to whoever will listen. It doesn’t mean that every solution you suggest is the best, or that it will always achieve the desired result, no. The point is, you’ve seen how these particular sets of problems can be tackled by a combination of solutions, including the solution you’re suggesting.

Thirdly and finally it’s about recognising the potential that exists. Remember that teacher or relative who, when you were young, always told you that you could do more, that you could be more, that you were capable of a lot more?

Yes, that one.

Sometimes people see things in us (as well as in places, in areas, in countries, etc.) which we don’t see in ourselves. They see potential, and sometimes when they tell us how much more we’re capable of, it sounds like criticism. It isn’t criticism per se, but their way of letting us know that they believe in us, and they’ve “seen” something great in us, potential, which we haven’t yet recognised. It should add fuel to our resolve, motivating us to improve.

• How was Penicillin Developed (Science Museum)