[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 152 (2006), Part 18]
[Senate]
[Pages 23586-23587]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                            FIGHTING MALARIA

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, earlier this year, the widely read, widely 
respected Sports Illustrated columnist Rick Reilly launched his Nothing 
But Nets campaign after learning that

[[Page 23587]]

thousands of Africans--including about 3000 children--die each day from 
malaria and that simple mosquito netting could save many of these 
lives.
  When I saw recently that his readers had kicked in more than $1.2 
million for this effort--enough to buy 150,000 nets--I had to give that 
dollar total a double-take before it sunk in. His campaign has 
collected enough to buy thousands and thousands of nets, enough to save 
thousands and thousands of lives. Those nets, distributed by the United 
Nations Foundation and the World Health Organization, already are 
accomplishing that.
  What Rick Reilly's crusade shows is that if you give Americans a 
clear and worthy goal, just about anything is possible.
  Government and private relief agencies should be taking notes--and a 
lesson--from Rick Reilly. There are so many other devastating diseases 
that we could control or even conquer, if we summon the will.
  I ask unanimous consent that Rick Reilly's column about this project 
be printed in the Record. There being no objection, the material was 
ordered to be printed in the Record.

                  [Sports Illustrated, Nov. 28, 2006]

                           Nothing But Thanks

                            (By Rick Reilly)

       Seven months ago you and I found out that each day 3,000 
     African children die of malaria for the very sad reason that 
     they can't afford mosquito nets over their beds. Didn't seem 
     right to us. Sports is nothing but nets--lacrosse nets, 
     cutting down the nets, New Jersey Nets. So SI started the 
     Nothing But Nets campaign. Doctors guaranteed that if you 
     sent in $20, you'd save at least one kid's life, probably 
     two.
       It was the alltime no-brainer. Skip lunch; save a life. Buy 
     the Top-Flites instead of the Titleists; save a life. Don't 
     bet on the Redskins; save a life. Nothing to research. No 
     government to topple. No warlords to fight.
       Bless your little hearts, all 17,000-plus of you who 
     chipped in more than $1.2 million--enough to buy 150,000 
     nets, which the United Nations Foundation and the World 
     Health Organization started hanging all over Nigeria, where 
     kids younger than five are getting murdered by mosquitoes 
     that come out only at night.
       I know, because I saw the nets. Just got back. Feel a 
     little bad about going without you. After all, it was your 
     money. So let's pretend it was you who made the trip, not me.
       Remember? Everywhere you went, people mistook you for King 
     Tut. Women got down on their knees and kissed your hand. 
     Whole towns threw festivals. The king in every ward summoned 
     you to his one-room, one-lightbulb palace. One pointed his 
     horsehair scepter at you and pronounced, ``Thank you for dee 
     nets. All my wives use dem!'' Turns out he has four wives and 
     23 kids, and they're all under the nets, which is a good 
     thing because the open sewer that runs right outside his 
     shack is a kind of one-stop malaria center.
       Everywhere you went, 40 people followed: doctors and nurses 
     and random government suits and guards with AK-47s and vice-
     kings. You rode in an eight-truck caravan past unimaginable 
     squalor, vans on fire and guys selling caskets on the 
     street--a very good business in Nigeria, where the average 
     life span is 47. And every time you opened your car door, two 
     drummers beat a skull-busting welcome. You'd pull into a 
     school, and the principal would hang a ribbon around your 
     neck and say something you couldn't hear. ``What?'' you'd 
     holler over the drums.
       "We humbly fumalk apoplia!''
       And you'd shrug, and he'd gesture to the 200 kids behind 
     him, who were chanting something over and over, their faces 
     beaming. Later you'd find out it was, ``Thank you, white 
     person!''
       And they'd play a soccer game in your honor that featured 
     nine-year-olds who played like 14-year-olds in the U.S., on 
     fields full of weeds and trash, with goals made of tree 
     branches. In three games the closest thing you saw to a boy 
     with shoes was a set of brothers who wore one sock each.
       And they'd hand you the mike, and you'd try to say how 
     blown away you were and how you wished you could raise 100 
     times more in donations, because already one hospital in 
     Nigeria is saying that since the nets went up, outpatient 
     cases of malaria have dropped from 80 a month to 50. But 
     they'd all put their hands to their ears and go, ``What?''
       When you bribed the drummers into taking a union break, you 
     finally met the people you'll never forget: the mothers. 
     Turns out they're nothing but nuts about the nets. In fact, 
     so many mothers want the nets that to get one, the World 
     Health Organization requires them to bring their kids in for 
     a measles vaccination. How often do you get two for one on 
     diseases?
       You met a mother who walked half a day to get a net. You 
     met a woman who sleeps with her four kids under her net, 
     maybe because she knows that three out of every 10 child 
     deaths in Nigeria are from malaria.
       In the fetid slums of Lagos you met a woman named Shifawu 
     Abbas who's had malaria twice. ``Everybody wants the nets 
     here, everybody!'' she said, beaming. ``My sister visited 
     from the country and tried to steal it from me!''
       Still, as you were climbing back into your air-conditioned 
     SUV, she yanked back your hand and begged, ``Please? Can I 
     come with you?''
       Sorry, you said.
       On the last day you met Noimot Bakare, a mother whose 
     youngest child died of malaria. She was so grateful that she 
     trembled as she spoke. ``Malaria is killing our children,'' 
     she said, holding her toddler. ``There is so much need here. 
     God will bless you for the work you are doing.''
       Please go to NothingButNets.net and keep it up.
       For that, we humbly fumalk apoplia.

                          ____________________