Musmark, Nairobi, June 3, 2007
We tuck the children in to their twin beds: three in the one room. They are tired. They are always tired these days.
We say prayers; we kiss them.
We lower the mosquito nets.
There is one for every bed, suspended by a hoop that hangs from the ceiling. I am careful with these nets, draping them around each child, tugging them down and pulling them closed at the opening.
We have a net, too. It folds up, during the day, around the four posters of our king-size bed. At night, we loosen the corners and tug it down. It fits perfectly, falling to the bottom of the mattress.
None of us has a mosquito bite.
