We are Public Health

I was fresh out of midwifery school when COVID hit, I walked into the maternity ward as the world shut down. Streets were empty, businesses closed, and people stayed home—but not us. Babies kept coming, mothers needed care, and with my washed, reused disposable mask, I showed up.

Then she walked in—the first suspected COVID case in our maternity ward. I was the first to see her, checked her vitals, spoke to her, and reassured her. Then the doctor arrived, examined her, and said, “I suspect COVID.”

Everything changed. The COVID response team arrived, fully suited in face shields, gloves, and protective gear. For me? Too late. I had already been exposed.

A Chain Reaction

Public health doesn’t fail in one big explosion—it breaks down one weak link at a time. My exposure wasn’t just about me. If I was at risk, so were my colleagues, the pregnant women I attend to, and my family when I got home. And the patient? How many had she unknowingly exposed before arriving at the hospital? The bus driver? The vendor at the market? Her children? None of us knew.

That’s how outbreaks spread—not through some grand disaster movie moment, but through a chain reaction of weak links that allow diseases to slip through. A hospital without enough protective equipment. A virus moving faster than the response. A surveillance system that reacted too late. A contact tracing network that couldn’t keep up. One weak link, then another, and another.

For weeks, I lived in uncertainty. Every night, I woke up, grabbed my pomade, and breathed in—could I still smell? I wasn’t alone. My colleagues, my patients, my entire community—we were all caught in the same cycle of fear and waiting.

We saw it happen everywhere. A virus that started in one place spread across the world in weeks. One person’s lack of protection put an entire population at risk. One country without vaccines meant the pandemic never really ended. This wasn’t just a virus spreading—it was a public health failure in real-time.

The Real Question 

We often see health as personal—our diet, doctor visits, and medications. But public health is bigger than any one of us; it’s about the choices we make together. It’s getting vaccinated to protect the child with asthma next door. It’s stopping misinformation before it spreads. It’s ensuring everyone has the same protection we expect for ourselves because our actions don’t exist in isolation. If one community lacks clean water, the disease spreads. If one country ignores public health, the world feels it. The next outbreak, the next crisis, the next pandemic won’t care about borders, wealth, or privilege. It will find the weakest link.

Public Health Isn’t Someone Else’s Job—It’s Ours

The weakest link? It might be us—if we keep treating public health like someone else’s problem. So, what now? We stop waiting. We stop assuming it’s up to governments, scientists, or policymakers. Public health has always been about us.

Think about it. Who washes their hands before eating? That’s public health. Who buckles their seatbelt? That’s public health. Every choice we make—big or small—either strengthens the system or weakens it.

The real question isn’t what happens next. It’s what will we do before it does?Because public health isn’t a department, a title, or an institution—it’s us. The stronger we are, the fewer weak links there will be. Whether the system holds or breaks depends on the choices we make now, long before the next crisis hits.

And it will come. It won’t wait for us to be ready. It will find the weakest link. If we don’t strengthen it, we’ll break—again. So, what’s it going to be?

We are public health. It’s time we start acting like it.