A day with spray-men

Every afternoon, the tiny vectors of the Aedes genus spread out from their dens in stagnant water, garbage dump sites in corners of human habitats and choked drainage networks. 

As they breed and their numbers grow, they wordlessly declare war against the humans around them, quietly transmitting the deadly dengue virus.

It's not a one-sided battle. On the front lines, stand city corporation workers.

These soldiers have one duty: kill the mosquitoes before they land the first bite.

Mohammad Mamun, an ad-hoc worker under the Dhaka South City Corporation, is a spray-man, as he is called.

He is well-aware of his duty, the execution of which is the difference between life and death.

Mamum is one of around 1,850 spray-men who cover a more than 300 square kilometre area collectively under the Dhaka South and Dhaka North city corporations. 

As this summer has witnessed an alarming surge in dengue infections, particularly in the overpopulated and least liveable Dhaka city, the two city corporations in Dhaka have undertaken special campaigns, including an extensive mosquito control drive engaging all of their spray-men.

"Primarily, we approach through the alleys, spraying the insecticides on both sides, randomly in the interstitial spaces between two buildings, garages on the ground floors, solid waste dumping spots, and the barren places where we see stagnant water," Mamun says.

After taking lunch every weekday, Mamum steps out from his Keraniganj house, merely a Tong Ghar (a tin-shed cottage on a raised bamboo platform) and reaches a Dhaka South community centre in Bhooter Goli area, where the liquid mosquito repellents are stored in drums.

By 3:30pm, Mamun's five other colleagues, including Ruhul Amin, also appear. 

They cross-check the fogger machines and fill them each with five litres of insecticides. 

Finally, they put on their maroon vests with the embroidered identification "Mashak-Karmi" [mosquito management worker], cover their noses with masks and spread out around the localities they are deployed to bust mosquito dens.

Armed and ready

Besides the liquid stored in the fogger machines, they also carry an additional five litres of the liquid in separate yellow plastic containers. Every spray-man has to cover at least four localities in three hours a day – from 4pm to 7pm. 

It's a job that needs quickness.

Their appearance in any alley, signalled by thick, white and toxic fog, and a deafening noise generated from the fogger machine, catches the attention of locals – as it always does. 

The ominous appearance, however, comes as solace.

It seems the people, suffering from mosquito menace, have long been waiting for the spray-men.

Professor Dewan Abdur Rahim, a senior medical consultant at a private hospital, is among them. 

He has been worried about the spread of viral fever around his Al Amid Road neighbourhoods in Dhanmondi. 

Last week, at least three children of his neighbours were diagnosed with dengue. 

When he spots spray-man Ruhul Amin on the road, Rahim raises his hands, a relief washing over him. 

The professor had lodged a complaint to the mosquito management control room under the city corporation. Ruhul was the answer to that.

Rahim proceeds to guide Ruhul to his building premises and every interstitial space, the possible breeding grounds for mosquitos. After a while, Ruhul covers the air with dense white fog.

"Would the mosquitos die with this fog?" Rahim asks, still sceptical.

"You will be relieved of mosquitos at least for five days," the spray-man replies.

As Ruhul approaches the other building premises through the alley, the adults quickly cover their noses. 

The children, however, still kissed with childish disregard, run into the fog, playing a quick game of hide-and-seek.

The risk doesn't bother them, perhaps because they aren't fully aware of it.

An often thankless job

Although the spray-men mean respite from the mosquito menace, their appearance also draws complaints. 

As Ruhul Amin continues his task in the capital's Dhanmondi area, several landlords, tenants, housekeepers rush to him. They shout, trying to make themselves heard over the fogger's noise.

"You never spray insecticides inside our houses. Mosquitoes have made our life miserable," grumbles one tenant.

The spray-man, frustration etched across his face, says, "I sprayed your house four days ago. Maybe you were not present at home that day."

"I do not want to argue with you. Please, visit our apartment building," the tenant requests.

Supervisor of the spray-men, Sohel Shiekh who is present there, updating the monitoring officials about the activities in live video streaming, refuses to entertain the tenant's request, saying that the stock of insecticides was limited. 

Even with limited supplies, the spray-men, who have become familiar with the locals, sometimes indulge requests.

"Every week, I visit the localities at least twice. The locals are familiar to me. How can I refuse their request?" spray-man Ruhul tells the TBS team.

All the spray-men shared similar experiences. 

"You can't satisfy everyone. Despite your hard work, you won't be praised by everyone. Whenever you journalists ask for their comments on our service, their answer will be negative – all the time," one of them said.

Another threw a funny comment. "Locals tend to see an abundance of mosquitoes around themselves when we appear. It seems like we are bearing platoons of mosquitoes with us."

Health risks a worry

Spraying insecticides is not a trivial job. 

As the spray-men are the most exposed to the toxic liquid, often they feel discomfort such as weakness and headache. The novice spray-men sometimes feel the pressure of vomiting.

Although he is used to the discomforts, Ruhul still continues with the job, hoping to become a supervisor someday. 

The promotion will give him more salary to run his four-member family.

In 2011, textile factory worker Ruhul Amin joined Dhaka Mosquito Control Office (DMCO) as a mosquito management crew, in search of a secured government job. 

At that time, class-8 passed students could apply for the job. Ruhul had passed SSC. After more than 10 years of service, Ruhul's monthly salary has now stood at Tk22,000 (including yearly increments).

For the last couple of weeks, Ruhul has been working for Dhaka South on deputation. 

There are several other DMCO crews on deputation to curb the dengue outbreak.

Besides the monthly salary, he receives Tk85 every day as the bill for using the fogger machine. 

"Actually, we spend the token money on paying our transport cost," said Ruhul who commutes from his Lalbagh home to Dhanmondi by rickshaw every day.

The spray-men have long been demanding an increase in their monthly salary. Especially in the present days, managing family expenditures becomes tough as huge inflation has hit the commodity market.

"Seven months back, my wife Jabinnahar gave birth to a baby girl. My 8-year-old son studies in class 2 at a nearby school. You know how challenging it is to manage the expenses of an expanding family," Ruhul said.

The working hours of the spray-men stretches between 2:30pm and 6:30pm. So, some of them are involved in part-time jobs during the early half of the day. For example, ad-hoc spray-man Mamun, whose daily wage is Tk575, sometimes works as a deliveryman for a Kamrangirchar-based shoe factory.

Since his job is not permanent, Mamun's earning from part-timing relieves him from the excessive burdens of family expenditures. "There is no festival allowance, overtime bills and bonus for the ad-hoc workers. So, I have to do some additional work for survival," Mamun said. Three years ago, Mamun joined this job as a novice. During this time, he attended several workshops and training on mosquito control. Still he is considered a novice worker. 

Ruhul cannot do a part-time job, though his working hours are similar to Mamun's. Sometimes, Dhaka South officials call to attend awareness-building rallies and other programmes of the mayor.

The mosquito management workers, both of the city corporations and the DMCO, have been demanding risk allowance. "Our job is injurious to our health. We have placed the demand to the higher authorities. But the demand is still unaddressed," some spray-men said.

As of Thursday, 225 dengue patients succumbed to the virus this year. Also, 2,361 new patients were hospitalised across the country, taking the total infection to 42,702, according to the Directorate General of Health Services.

As the situation has been turning worse day by day, incentivising mosquito management workers by meeting their demands seems very crucial.