New Mpox Strain Is Changing Fast; African Scientists Are ‘Working Blind’ to Respond 

Dr. Robert Musole, medical director of the Kavumu hospital (R) consults an infant suffering from a severe form of mpox at the Kavumu hospital, 30 km north of Bukavu in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, August 24, 2024. (AFP)
Dr. Robert Musole, medical director of the Kavumu hospital (R) consults an infant suffering from a severe form of mpox at the Kavumu hospital, 30 km north of Bukavu in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, August 24, 2024. (AFP)
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New Mpox Strain Is Changing Fast; African Scientists Are ‘Working Blind’ to Respond 

Dr. Robert Musole, medical director of the Kavumu hospital (R) consults an infant suffering from a severe form of mpox at the Kavumu hospital, 30 km north of Bukavu in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, August 24, 2024. (AFP)
Dr. Robert Musole, medical director of the Kavumu hospital (R) consults an infant suffering from a severe form of mpox at the Kavumu hospital, 30 km north of Bukavu in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, August 24, 2024. (AFP)

Scientists studying the new mpox strain that has spread out of Democratic Republic of Congo say the virus is changing faster than expected, and often in areas where experts lack the funding and equipment to properly track it.

That means there are numerous unknowns about the virus itself, its severity and how it is transmitting, complicating the response, half a dozen scientists in Africa, Europe and the United States told Reuters.

Mpox, formerly known as monkeypox, has been a public health problem in parts of Africa since 1970, but received little global attention until it surged internationally in 2022, prompting the World Health Organization to declare a global health emergency. That declaration ended 10 months later.

A new strain of the virus, known as clade Ib, has the world's attention again after the WHO declared a new health emergency.

The strain is a mutated version of clade I, a form of mpox spread by contact with infected animals that has been endemic in Congo for decades. Mpox typically causes flu-like symptoms and pus-filled lesions and can kill.

Congo has had more than 18,000 suspected clade I and clade Ib mpox cases and 615 deaths this year, according to the WHO. There have also been 222 confirmed clade Ib cases in four African countries in the last month, plus a case each in Sweden and Thailand in people with a travel history in Africa.

"I worry that in Africa, we are working blindly," said Dr. Dimie Ogoina, an infectious diseases expert at Niger Delta University Hospital in Nigeria who chairs the WHO's mpox emergency committee. He first raised the alarm about potential sexual transmission of mpox in 2017, now an accepted route of spread for the virus.

"We don’t understand our outbreak very well, and if we don't understand our outbreak very well, we will have difficulty addressing the problem in terms of transmission dynamics, the severity of the disease, risk factors of the disease," Ogoina said. "And I worry about the fact that the virus seems to be mutating and producing new strains."

He said it took clade IIb in Nigeria five years or more to evolve enough for sustained spread among humans, sparking the 2022 global outbreak. Clade Ib has done the same thing in less than a year.

MUTATING 'MORE RAPIDLY'

Mpox is an orthopoxvirus, from the family that causes smallpox. Population-wide protection from a global smallpox vaccine campaign 50 years ago has waned, as the vaccinating stopped when the disease was eradicated.

Genetic sequencing of clade Ib infections, which the WHO estimates emerged mid-September 2023, show they carry a mutation known as APOBEC3, a signature of adaptation in humans.

The virus that causes mpox has typically been fairly stable and slow to mutate, but APOBEC-driven mutations can accelerate viral evolution, said Dr. Miguel Paredes, who is studying the evolution of mpox and other viruses at Fred Hutchison Cancer Center in Seattle.

"All the human-to-human cases of mpox have this APOBEC signature of mutations, which means that it's mutating a little bit more rapidly than we would expect," he said.

Paredes and other scientists said a response was complicated by several mpox outbreaks happening at once.

In the past, mpox was predominantly acquired through human contact with infected animals. That is still driving a rise in Congo in clade I cases – also known as clade Ia - likely due in part to deforestation and increased consumption of bushmeat, scientists said.

The mutated versions, clade Ib and IIb, can now essentially be considered a sexually transmitted disease, said Dr. Salim Abdool Karim, a South African epidemiologist and chair of the Africa CDC’s mpox advisory committee. Most of the mutated clade Ib cases are among adults, driven at first by an epidemic among female sex workers in South Kivu, Congo.

The virus also can spread through close contact with an infected person, which is likely how clusters of children have been infected with clade Ib, particularly in Burundi and in eastern Congo’s displacement camps, where crowded living conditions may be contributing.

Children, pregnant women and people with weakened immune systems or other illnesses may be at greater risk of serious mpox disease and death, say the WHO and mpox scientists.

Clade I has typically caused more severe disease, with fatality rates of 4%-11%, compared to around 1% for clade II. Ogoina said data from Congo suggests few have died of the new Ib version, but he feared some data is being mixed up.

More research is urgently needed, but three teams tracking mpox outbreaks in Africa say they cannot even access chemicals needed for diagnostic tests. Clade Ib can also be missed by some diagnostic tests.

Planning a response, including vaccination strategies, without this is difficult, the scientists said.

Karim said around half of cases in eastern Congo, where Ib is particularly prevalent, are only being diagnosed by doctors, with no laboratory confirmation.

Getting samples to labs is difficult because the healthcare system is already under pressure, he said. And around 750,000 people have been displaced amid fighting between the M23 rebel group and the government.

Many African laboratories cannot get the supplies they need, said Dr. Emmanuel Nakoune, an mpox expert at the Institut Pasteur in Bangui, Central African Republic, which also has clade Ia cases.

"This is not a luxury," he said, but necessary to track deadly outbreaks.



Tent Demos Turn West Bank Eviction into Rallying Cry

 Activists confront a settler (left) near the occupied West Bank village of Beit Jala. (AFP)
Activists confront a settler (left) near the occupied West Bank village of Beit Jala. (AFP)
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Tent Demos Turn West Bank Eviction into Rallying Cry

 Activists confront a settler (left) near the occupied West Bank village of Beit Jala. (AFP)
Activists confront a settler (left) near the occupied West Bank village of Beit Jala. (AFP)

Flanked by smartphone-wielding peace activists, members of an evicted Palestinian family marched onto land seized by armed Israeli settlers, shouting "Out! Out!" as they livestreamed the confrontation on Instagram.

After Israeli security forces turned them away, they retreated to their makeshift base: a fast-growing tent encampment for supporters of the family -- the Kisiyas -- that has spotlighted their plight amid widening settler attacks in the Israeli-occupied West Bank.

Violence in the West Bank has surged alongside the war in Gaza, with at least 640 Palestinians killed by Israeli troops and settlers since Hamas's October 7 attack, according to an AFP tally based on Palestinian health ministry figures.

At least 19 Israelis have also died in Palestinian attacks during the same period, according to Israeli officials.

Yet weeks of demonstrations at the tent near the Kisiyas' home in Beit Jala, south of Jerusalem, have made their story stand out, attracting anti-settlement activists, lawmakers, rabbis and Palestinians from other communities facing similar incursions.

The daily gatherings feature meals, prayer, singalongs and lessons on non-violent resistance, usually followed by a caravan to the site to demand that the settlers leave.

During one such encounter on Thursday, Kisiya family members grabbed whatever they could -- mattresses, electrical cables, fruit from a pomegranate tree -- while activists tried to tear down settler-erected fences.

On Friday, 70 Israeli Jews held Shabbat services at the encampment and spent the night there.

It is the kind of show of solidarity that was once more common but has become vanishingly rare during the war, organizers said.

"We will stay here until we get back our land," 30-year-old Alice Kisiya told AFP.

The settlers "took advantage of the war. They thought it would end in silence, but it didn't."

- 'Example to show the world' -

Some details of the Kisiyas' story have helped turn it into a rallying cry.

They are one of the area's few Christian families, and the land's stepped agricultural terraces sit in one of its few accessible green spaces.

Yet Knesset member Aida Touma-Suleiman told AFP that while the mobilization around their struggle might be unusual, the challenges the Kisiyas face are common.

"I wish we can be able to stand near each family like this, but maybe this can be an example to show the world what is happening," she said.

Earlier this month, Israel's far-right Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich announced the approval of a new settlement in the same area of the Kisiya encampment that the United Nations says would encroach on the UNESCO World Heritage site of Battir.

The news drew international outcry, with Washington and the United Nations saying the settlement known as Nahal Heletz would jeopardize the viability of a Palestinian state.

All of Israel's settlements in the West Bank, occupied since 1967, are considered illegal under international law, regardless of whether they have Israeli planning permission.

The Kisiyas have for years been threatened by settlement activity, and in 2019 the civil administration demolished the family's home and restaurant.

The latest run-in occurred on July 31, when settlers from a nearby outpost accompanied by soldiers "raided the land, assaulting members of the Kisiya family and activists trying to force them to leave the area", according to Israeli anti-settlement group Peace Now.

- 'Is it dangerous?' -

The Kisiyas joined with activists to form the encampment just over a week later, although it got off to a slow start.

"I wish there was a camera when we first started. We were just sitting with chairs, had nothing in here. And we were discussing, like, 'What are we doing?'" said Palestinian activist Mai Shahin of Combatants for Peace.

"The first week was really hard," she said, with people, initially hesitant to join the encampment, calling to ask her: "Is it dangerous?"

As it has grown in size, Palestinians from elsewhere have come to see the encampment as a safe space.

"I have a lot of trauma from wearing my own keffiyeh (scarf) and wearing my identity for everyone to see," said Amira Mohammed, 25, of Jerusalem.

In the encampment "we were able to actually be ourselves, wear our keffiyehs, sing our songs in our language with our Israeli counterparts".

But some activists point out that despite the energy in the encampment, the current Israeli government appears set on expanding settlement activity.

"No anti-Israeli and anti-Zionist decision will stop the development of settlements," Smotrich, who himself lives in a settlement, posted on X this month.

"We will continue to fight against the dangerous project of creating a Palestinian state by creating facts on the ground."

Activist Talya Hirsch said such statements leave her with "no hope for this land" and "no vision of a better future".

"But I don't move from this place. I have no hope but I have a high sense of responsibility."