Who am I to blow against the wind?
Africans, Africa, the heart of darkness, & the implications of a universal antidote
PAST
My roommate
In 1987 I was a freshman at Susquehanna University in Selinsgrove, PA. Susquehanna began as a Lutheran missionary institute in 1858, and given the focus of missionaries on converting the people of Africa to Christianity, is meant that there was usually a smattering of exchange students from African countries. Susquehanna’s study abroad program in Liberia ended with the start of the first civil war in 1989-1997, renewed after the second civil war 1999-2003, and was canceled again in 2014, after the Ebola outbreak in West Africa. Sending students to Liberia was obviously more complicated than a semester abroad in Paris or Segovia.
Robert Kalohmo was my roommate during freshman year, welcoming me into the dilapidated but dynamic International House. Robert was from Namibia, intending to study biology and become a doctor or scientist, but finishing up his studies as a business major. He later became the Director of Railway Infrastructure Management for his country.
I learned a little bit about Africa and Africans from Robert. From spending most of his childhood barefoot, the soles of Robert’s feet were as thick as leather. He never quite acclimated to the the ice cubes we Americans considered de rigueur for our beverages. He was quick to smile and laugh, but emotionally guarded. If I were to put it in other terms, he was a manly-man, who was relatively soft-spoken, but had a tough constitution. He wasn’t large, but he was very strong. He thought a lot about women, and given my own preoccupation with the female gender, that was saying something. He was a bonafide lady’s man who had a penchant for small-boned Japanese women, and fortunately, the feeling was mutual. I heard, and enjoyed, a lot of African music during the time that we were roommates. At least some of it had encouraged his countrymen and women in their struggle for independence.
Before holding its first free elections in 1989, Namibia was the colony of South West Africa, and before that German South West Africa. Robert’s country possesses great riches of minerals and diamonds, so understandably, South Africa was loathe to let it go. He had been involved in SWAPO, the South West Africa People’s Organization, which South Africa considered to be a terrorist organization due to its armed struggle against South African rule. As a result of his SWAPO connection, early in his young life Robert had been through some harrowing experiences, which made my own first-world travails pale in comparison.
A professor
Olubenga Onafowara is a professor and researcher of economics, and current head of the Department of Economics at Susquehanna University. Onafowora is a graduate of the University of Ife in Ile-Ife, Nigeria, and received his master of science and Ph.D. from West Virginia University, Morgantown. He taught several of the classes which I took as a Business Economics major, including micro economics and econometrics.
Personally, I managed to piss Olu off to such a degree that reported me to his boss. I think his name was Dr Steele, the former pipe-smoking, deer-hunting, “I’d rather be fishing” chair of the economics department, and he called me into his office for a little chat. He was good old boy from the country, and while he counseled me to be more respectful to Olu in the future, I think he was both surprised and sympathetic to my complaint. My beef with Olu was that I was a poor college student, working summer jobs and work-study alongside my school work, and he had required us to spend more than $100 each on several textbooks, one of which we only used for a single chapter. Mid-way through the semester, when it was clear that said textbook would be most useful as a doorstop, I approached Olu after class and aired my grievance. He looked like he wanted throttle me, but simply glared.
From Olu I learned that there were over 370 tribes in Nigeria, and as many as 500 distinct ethnic groups. Three tribes, the Hausa-Fulani, Yoruba, and Igbo dominate politically and economically. If Americans think that it’s hard to govern a country with fifty different states, in which most citizens speak the same language, how about a country with 500 tribes and as many as 700 dialects?
A book, or two
It’s hard to believe that I had time to read fiction for pleasure while I was an undergraduate, but I did. Around the same time I met Olu, I read the book Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. It was published in 1958 and is considered one of the most important works in African literature. The novel is set in Nigeria, tells the story of Okonkwo, a respected Igbo leader, and explores the effects of British colonialism and Christian missionaries on traditional Igbo society.
Fertility is deeply valued in the Igbo culture. A woman’s status and respect are closely tied to her ability to bear children, and particularly male children. Ekwefi, Okonkwo’s second wife, is a central character in this context. She has suffered multiple child losses and is seen as cursed or unlucky, highlighting the social pressure and spiritual burden women face when they experience infertility and child mortality. Children are a sign of wealth, strength and legacy, so that infertility is a source of shame or concern.
There is an indirect acknowledgement of the high infant mortality rate, especially in Ekwefi’s story, which could be seen as a natural limiting factor on population in the traditional context. There is also mention of twins being abandoned, due to spiritual beliefs, which touches on cultural practices that influence population numbers.
More than a decade later I read The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. This novel contrasts well to Things Fall Apart, in that it explicitly explores the colonial imposition of Western ideas, including Christian views on sex, gender and family. The novel critiques both patriarchal missionary attitudes and the complexities of African gender roles, including the tension between fertility ideals and female autonomy.
A lecture
At some point in my studies at Susquehanna I attended an evening presentation related to the Population 2000 initiative of the 1980s and 1990s. Collective efforts were aimed at addressing global population growth by the year 2000, promoting a combination of education, family planning and reproductive health, especially in developing countries. I can honestly say that what I learned that night weighed heavily in the decision I shared with my wife to not have children of our own. I later found it ironic that Population 2000 was focused on developing countries, when I learned that an American child between birth and age eighteen consumes roughly thirteen times more resources on average than a child in developing countries in Africa. These resources include energy use, water consumption, waste production, and raw materials and goods consumed. Put in different terms, one American child ~ = the resource consumption of 10-13 African children. Broken down further, the reason behind this gap in consumption is higher standards of living and consumption in the US, greater access to consumer goods, electronics, cars and processed foods; energy-intensive lifestyles (e.g. heating/cooling, driving, single-family housing); and lower birthrates in wealthier nations, but higher per-capita ecological footprints.
PRESENT
In late March I was interviewed by Sophia Palmer, a high school senior who is completing a senior project studying the subject of infertility among women of the Maasai in Kenya. She had already interviewed several experts in Maasai culture, and tossed me in for a medical perspective on the topic.
Her questions were:
1. What are the most common causes of infertility?
2. How are infertile women typically viewed and treated by their husbands?
3. How does the social treatment of infertile women affect their view of their identity? How does it affect them mentally/emotionally?
4. In your opinion, how can the treatment and care provided for partners struggling with fertility improve to provide optimal support?
There was some serendipity to these questions, because my mind had been chewing on the two most recent Substack posts about the history of the pioneers of oxidative therapies by my partner Dr Pierre Kory. Ironically, a particularly dramatic series of events took place in Nigeria. In particular, I was considering how historical African leaders such as King Kuntunkununku the 2nd of Ghana, and Western leaders had squashed the knowledge of chlorine dioxide, because they thought that the resulting population explosion would outstrip available resources, lead to massive societal upheaval, and famine. Were they truly wise, or just cynical and self-serving? Because my interview with Sophia lasted a brief half hour, there wasn’t time to discuss the other threads which I had connected to her questions. I wanted to share them with you.
Medical Advancements, Social Disruptions, and the Future of Health and Fertility
Throughout history, medical interventions have transformed human societies, often alleviating suffering while simultaneously disrupting long-standing cultural, economic, and social structures. From the eradication of smallpox to the advent of antibiotics and birth control, each major health breakthrough has not only extended life but also redefined roles within families, economies, and communities. It was stimulating to explore the intersection of medical advancements, fertility challenges, and societal shifts, particularly focusing (thanks to Sophia) on the experiences of Maasai women in Kenya and Tanzania, the implications of a global shift to a vegetarian diet, and the potential for disruptive changes if a universal cure for illness were discovered.
Infertility and Discrimination: The Case of Maasai Women
Infertility remains a deeply stigmatized issue in many parts of the world, and Maasai women in Kenya and Tanzania face particularly harsh discrimination when they cannot conceive. In traditional Maasai culture, motherhood is a primary marker of a woman’s value and social status. Women who cannot bear children may be ostracized, abandoned by their husbands, or treated as failures by their communities. This has profound psychological and emotional consequences, shaping their sense of identity and self-worth.
The economic circumstances of the Maasai further compound this issue. In a pastoralist society where wealth is measured in livestock and large families provide economic security, infertility threatens both the personal and financial stability of a woman’s household. Without children, women lack the traditional support systems that ensure care in old age, further marginalizing them. However, some Maasai women are challenging these norms by creating educational and economic alternatives to motherhood. Organizations such as the Maasai Girls Education Fund and the Maa Trust are empowering women through education and entrepreneurship, offering them new pathways to economic independence.
In a fascinating twist of interconnectedness, organizations such as BOMA (works to provide women in Northern Kenya with educational, financial and technological resources to lift themselves our of poverty, focusing on sustainable livelihoods and resilience), and CAMFED (Campaign for Female Education, operating in several African countries including Tanzania, focusing on eradicating poverty through the education of girls and the empowerment of young women), received funding from USAID. That funding has been cut off since President Trump and Elon Musk’s DOGE led to the dissolution of USAID. Who knows how much of the funding actually reached its intended organization, or how effective the organizations are/were, but there is the idea to change the circumstances of girls and women in Tanzania and Kenya.
The Role of Fertility in Social Structures and Literature
Literature has long reflected society’s views on fertility and motherhood. In The Poisonwood Bible, set in the Democratic Republic of Congo, fertility plays a crucial role in shaping the lives of the characters. The novel explores how cultural expectations regarding family and reproduction influence personal choices and societal norms. Like the experiences of Maasai women, the book highlights the tension between tradition and autonomy, emphasizing how reproductive expectations shape identity.
Medical Breakthroughs and Social Disruption
History shows that major medical interventions can significantly alter societal dynamics. For example, the introduction of antibiotic and birth control pills revolutionized public health but also led to resistance, cultural shifts, and economic restructuring. The eradication of smallpox disrupted healthcare industries reliant on managing the disease. The widespread availability of antibiotics transformed the role of traditional healers and reshaped medical practice. Birth control redefined gender roles, enabling women to delay childbirth and pursue education and careers, leading to fundamental shifts in social and economic structures.
Similarly, if a universal cure for most illnesses were discovered—such as a widely accessible therapeutic agent like chlorine dioxide—it would profoundly impact global health, workforce productivity, and population dynamics. In regions where disease heavily influences social organization, such a cure could lead to significant economic and political shifts, potentially challenging long-held cultural norms about health and well-being.
The Impact of a Global Shift to Vegetarianism on Food Security
One of the reasons I adopted a vegetarian, and then vegan diet more than a decade ago, was the understanding I mentioned above, about the amount of resources an American consumes compared to other people in the world. I wanted to decrease my footprint. Honestly, I set that aside as a practical matter of survival when I was injured by the Covid shots, and couldn’t keep on weight or recover by continuing with a vegan diet. Lord knows that I tried.
I am no fan of the WEF, Klaus Schwab, or Bill Gates, or their contrivance to drive farmers off the land and strip us of our carnivorous ways. In the context of considering the introduction of curative chlorine dioxide to the global population, we would have to consider all options when managing a population explosion and trying to feed everybody on the planet. A major potential societal shift is a large-scale transition to vegetarianism. If 90% of the global population adopted a vegetarian diet, the world’s food production system would become significantly more efficient. Currently, a vast portion of arable land is used to grow feed for livestock rather than food directly for human consumption. Studies suggest that shifting away from meat production could allow the same amount of agricultural land to feed 16 to 24 billion people, more than double the current population.
This shift would have profound environmental and economic consequences. It would reduce greenhouse gas emissions (I’m no longer certain that matters), decrease water usage (this definitely matters), and free up land for reforestation or alternative agricultural purposes. However, such a change could also disrupt economies that rely heavily on livestock farming, forcing significant adaptations in employment and food distribution systems. It’s worth mentioning here that 30% of the land on the planet is best employed in grazing animals for their milk and flesh. The land is typically too dry, steep, or infertile to support crop cultivation.
Demographic Changes and Fertility Trends
Demographic patterns are evolving due to social and economic changes. In many developed countries, family sizes are shrinking, and women are having children later in life. In Monaco, the world’s smallest average household size (1.9 persons) reflects broader trends in declining fertility rates. Similarly, in the United States, the average age at which women conceive their first child has risen to approximately 27.5 years, driven by increased educational attainment, workforce participation, and access to reproductive healthcare. Given the documented deleterious effect of spike protein on fertility, fertility rates will continue to decline in countries with highly vaccinated populations.
These changes highlight the shifting priorities of modern societies, where career development and financial stability often take precedence over early motherhood. However, this trend also raises concerns about aging populations and workforce sustainability in countries with declining birth rates.
Balancing Progress and Tradition
As history has shown, medical and technological advancements bring both benefits and disruptions. Whether addressing infertility discrimination among Maasai women, reconsidering global food production, or adapting to demographic shifts, societies must navigate the challenges of change while preserving cultural values and ensuring equitable progress. The question remains: how can we implement scientific breakthroughs in ways that maximize benefits while minimizing unintended social consequences? Perhaps more relevant: will the seats of power and billionaire class permit such breakthroughs to be shared with the world’s populace?
Here’s a radical thought— how about we share the truth of chlorine dioxide’s potential to eradicate infectious disease of all varieties with the people of the world, along with a succinct summation of the dilemma it poses? The planet is already groaning under the burden of its exploding population, and if we drop infant mortality and infectious disease to nil, there are going to be a lot more of us to feed, clothe, and house, let alone employ and entertain. Can we handle this? Can we figure it out? Up until now, the decision makers have concluded that as a whole, humans are too stupid and too tribal to handle such change, and that it is more sagacious, and likely more profitable, to let us sicken and die. It’s nature’s method of population control after all…right? Or not.
Call me crazy, but I think that by learning from past disruptions, we can work toward a future where health innovations empower rather than divide, and where individuals have the freedom to shape their own destinies, regardless of societal expectations. But this would require that the governmental and corporate assassins would have to stand down, and there be transparency, communication, and a belief in the intelligence of everyday people.
The idea that we should all eat a vegetarian diet due to the environmental impact of meat production, is only true with the current system of factory farming. Permaculture systems integrate meat and crop production in ways that enhance both the raising of meat and crops and is sustainable.
Much of the push in food production is just about centralizing control of our food, in order to control us, not about the environment.
The current food production systems are bad for the environment, as they require a lot of external inputs and produce a lot of waste. But the solution is not centralization but greater localization with permaculture systems that cycle the "waste" through the system advantageously so they are more productive.
The whole idea that too many people are the problem is the problem. We lack freedom not food. If governments were to get out of the way people are capable of making good choices. Understand that the root word for "Capitalism" it "Head" (in German) and brainpower is what always finds another answer. The Earth has sufficient carrying capacity to feed at least twice as many people as it now holds IF they had the freedom to innovate and abundant energy. For with abundant, cheap energy ocean water can be desalinated and the deserts could bloom. As people get smarter family size shrinks because large families aren't required for survival. All the scare tactics (man made climate change, running out of resources, etc) are there to provide control and keep us from real solutions. We have enough coal, oil, nuclear fuel to power the world into a beautiful, clean,, well fed future. Just have to get governments out of the way and let freedom reign.