The nurses move through the ward in Kinshasa, their white suits a stark contrast to the red dirt outside. Their movements are methodical. Boots over trousers. Goggles over eyes. Double gloves. Each step a small act of defiance against a virus that kills more than half of those it infects.
Yesterday, the UK government announced a new tranche of funding for the Ebola response in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The money pays for these suits. It pays for the chlorine sprays. It pays for the drills and the training and the thermometers at airport gates. It is a matter of life and death.
But the story is not about the cheque. It is about the people paid to wear the suits. It is about their wages. And it is about the fear that stalks them long after the shift ends.
I spoke to Jeanne, a nurse who has worked the Ebola ward since the outbreak began. She is paid the equivalent of 40 dollars a week. She has a husband and two children. She told me the money is enough for bread and rent. Not much else. The real cost for her is not what she earns. It is what she risks. When she goes home at night, she scrubs her hands until they bleed. She kisses her children on the forehead through a mask. She sleeps in a separate room. The neighbours crossed the street when they see her. The landlord threatened to evict her.
"They think I bring the sickness to their door," she said. "But the sickness was here before me."
The UK funding is welcomed. It buys the protective gear that keeps Jeanne alive. But it does not buy the rest of her life. The World Health Organisation has called for hazard pay for Ebola workers. The local government has promised bonuses. They have not arrived.
This is the quiet scandal of outbreak control. The international community pours money into the technology of safety but forgets the human beings who must wear it. They are paid not enough. They are stigmatised. They are exhausted. And if they fall sick, the protocols they followed may not save them.
The UK has a reputation as a leader in global health security. The funding is generous. The intention is good. But the workers on the ground ask for something more. They ask for a living wage. They ask for the dignity of a job that does not leave you broke when you save a life.
Jeanne has lost three colleagues this month. They followed the protocols. They wore the suits. They still died. She does not know if the money will come for her. She does not know if she will make next month. She only knows that tomorrow she will put on the suit again.
"It is a calling," she said. "But you cannot feed a family on a calling."
