The Value of a Promise: A Spoken Word Poem - Love Letter #5
An emotionally resonant poem captures the spirit of global public health with clarity and grace, offering a reflection on the values and commitments defining the CDC.
We return to our series of Love Letters to Public Health with a powerful and emotional poem about the role of the US Centers for Disease Control (CDC) in global health security.
Benita Mwinkeu from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) captures the spirit of global health work and offers a tribute to CDC using vivid imagery rooted in lived experience. Her stunning poem is a love letter to public health and a battle cry for why this work matters. It captures the exhaustion and beauty of staying in the fight, even when the systems are flawed, the resources are limited, and the stakes are life and death - because every life is worth it.
If you’d like to follow Benita’s lead and share your own love letter to public health or another perspective on public health in these times, I’d love to hear from you. Please get in touch!
The Value of a Promise
A spoken word poem written and performed by Benita Mwinkeu
Hi everyone,
I’m Doctor Cici Dean Conor
But my friends call me CDC.
You know, whenever I go out to work, I keep getting the same question:
They ask me why I keep coming back.
Why I walk into places where illness sits heavy in the air,
where you can feel the weight of it, pressing down on shoulders
already burdened, already tired, already desperate.
I want to tell them,
because my mother taught me the value of a promise.
And my dad, the importance of commitment.
I want to tell them,
because I have looked into the eyes of Mamma Sinda,
a mother waiting on a test result that could change everything.
I have watched her fingers shakingly trace the edge of a garment called Hope,
because sometimes, that’s all we have to hold on to.
I want to tell them that fighting HIV
is about fighting for a future in Beni where kids live longer than their parents,
where sisters don’t have to become caretakers before they’re 15
and brothers bread winners at 16.
That Ebola isn’t just a name on a news headline,
it’s the story of a village in Ituri,
of people who still whisper the names of those they lost,
who are still here, still braver than fear itself.
So, we fight back, one net, one test, one drop of blood at a time.
Because these aren’t just battles against outbreaks,
they’re battles to protect what we love, to keep families whole.
This work isn’t glamorous.
It’s long hours, its losses, it’s victories that feel small
until you remember the pinpoint of each progress is someone’s whole world.
And sometimes all we have are our hands and our faith,
our voices that say: “You don’t have to do this alone.”
That in the darkest nights, there’s a team—
a community standing beside you, ready to catch you.
So, when they ask me why I keep coming back,
I tell them it’s because every name, every face, every heartbeat matters.
Because each step forward, each life saved,
each research is a candle against the darkness.
And I know that if we light enough candles,
we’ll see the world we’re fighting for.
We’ll touch the hands of those we’re trying to keep alive,
And walk in the footsteps of those who started this noble fight.
I want to tell them that “health” is not a single word, but a chorus,
harmonized by scientists and nurses and doctors whose hands reach,
even when they are shaking.
And who keep showing up, even when they’ve left their loved ones behind,
to ensure that other families don’t get fragmented by the sickle of death
Yes, I come back because HIV is not just a virus,
it is a shackle that tries to bend families.
That Ebola does not only spread through the blood,
but through fear, and through grief.
And malaria?
well, she’s like a lullaby that’s anything but gentle,
singing children to sleep under mosquito nets,
while our teams work the night shift, trying to break that cycle.
When they ask me why I keep coming back,
I tell them it’s because my mother taught me the value of a promise.
And my father, the importance of commitment.
So no,
This isn’t work you do if you want to be a hero.
This isn’t work you do if you want a medal on your wall
or a trophy to display.
Heroes have capes they say,
Well, I have a white robe.
They have superpowers.
We have a stethoscope, a microscope that can only take us so far.
But hey, every morning, we put on our uniform and go out fighting for a better tomorrow.
This is work you do because you believe
that a world without malaria, without Ebola, without HIV,
is not an impossible world.
So we arm ourselves with knowledge and vaccines,
we march forward with data and dedication,
knowing that each case, each patient,
is not just a statistic,
but a person who laughs and loves and longs for tomorrow.
And in the face of the overwhelming,
we hold hands across borders from the US Embassy all the way to the DRC,
we lend courage across languages.
We stand, not as saviors,
For we know that this world cannot be healed with band aid and poetry,
but we are here as steadfast promises.
So, when they ask me why I keep coming back,
Stronger and more determined than ever
I tell them it’s because my mother taught me the value of a promise.
And my father, the importance of commitment.
Because a promise kept
is stronger than any disease,
and that when you light enough candles in the night,
eventually, you start to see dawn breaking,
hope rising,
and fear leaving.
Thanks for your time.
And remember,
I’m Doctor Cici Dean Conor
But my friends call me CDC.
This poem is a tribute to the global health work of the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). The activities of CDC in DRC focus on global health security, including training rapid response teams and field epidemiologists to detect and control outbreaks like Ebola, while also strengthening long-term systems for laboratory capacity, surveillance, and emergency coordination. In partnership with the Ministry of Health and through the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR), CDC supports HIV and TB prevention and treatment with integrated services, improved diagnostics, and workforce development. Additional CDC efforts in DRC target the prevention and treatment of other infectious diseases, including malaria, mpox, and meningitis.
Benita Mwinkeu is Strategic Content Coordinator at the U.S. Embassy in Kinshasa, DRC. As part of the Embassy’s Public Diplomacy section, she supports CDC by publicising their important initiatives through social media platforms. She combines her professional work with a strong passion for creative writing and storytelling.
The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent the views of any organization, employer, or institution with which they are affiliated.
If you would like to follow Benita’s example by sharing a love letter to public health or another perspective on public health right now, please get in touch!
Action steps - a note from Katie
Thank you for reading this newsletter for and about the public health workforce. At this tumultuous time, I’m still really not sure where we go from here. But each time that I publish this newsletter and receive positive feedback from readers, my list of ideas for action steps continues to grow. I will start to compile these suggestions here. As we learn more, let’s keep adding to this list:
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I close by emphasising what I said in a previous newsletter:
“At this time of uncertainty for the public health workforce, let’s remember our commitment to science and evidence and data. We know that validating emotions and baggage has a place too, but we need to be able to identify them and distinguish opinion from fact.
Let’s recommit to kindness and mutual support for the public health workforce and beyond. If leaders are trying to sow divisions among us, the best we can do is to respond with empathy, and by strengthening, connecting, and lifting up one another.
Right now, the best I can offer my fellow public health professionals is a place* to gather and reflect and share and vent and organize and ask questions and offer support to one another. We’re going to need that now more than ever.”
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