The Dengue Experience

For over a decade, I lived in the lush valley of Barbosa, just north of Medellín. My gym has been my home since 2010, and through the seasons I got to know the rhythm of the land. We had relatively low amounts of small black mosquitos — annoying, yes, but never threatening. Not once did I experience dengue. Not once did I see the striped black-and-white mosquitoes that everyone associates with the disease.

Living in harmony with mosquitos :)

That changed in 2024.

Early in the year, headlines announced that millions of "genetically modified mosquitoes" would be released in Medellín (In April - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aAJaBJuVN3A&ab_channel=DWEspa%C3%B1ol). The stated goal? To reduce dengue by introducing Aedes aegypti mosquitoes infected with Wolbachia — a bacteria that supposedly blocks the virus from replicating in the mosquito. It sounded clever. High-tech. A Gates-backed silver bullet.

But not long after this release, something very strange happened: dengue hit me. Twice.

I wasn't alone. A wave of cases spread across the region, even though Wolbachia was supposed to stop this from happening. (In July - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Y7T01S6dRo&ab_channel=NoticiasCaracol) And most curiously, I started seeing a kind of mosquito I had never seen in my area before — the infamous black-and-white striped Aedes aegypti. They seemed to have arrived like clockwork after the release.

Coincidence?

Maybe. But when you've lived in the same place for over a decade and suddenly get hit with a virus you've never had before, and a new mosquito species appears in the same window of time... well, it doesn’t take a conspiracy theorist to raise an eyebrow.

The Illusion of Control

Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not saying the scientists behind this are cartoon villains. But it’s deeply naive to believe that releasing genetically or biologically modified organisms into the environment is without consequence.

Nature is adaptive. Mosquitoes are among the fastest-evolving insects on the planet. You introduce a new factor — like Wolbachia — and they respond. You try to control them, and they find a workaround. Resistance is not a possibility; it's an inevitability.

Wolbachia releases aren’t a one-and-done fix. They require consistent, ongoing mosquito releases to maintain coverage. And if that coverage drops, as it did in Medellín by mid-2024, the "protection" dissolves. Meanwhile, Aedes aegypti — which didn’t even dominate this region before — suddenly flourishes, biting everyone in sight.

The Probability No One Wants to Talk About

Based on personal history, exposure risk, and timing, I ran the logic:

• I had never had dengue in over 10 years.

• The genetically altered mosquitoes were released in early 2024.

• The Aedes aegypti appeared in my area shortly after.

• I got dengue twice within months, during the outbreak.
  

Factoring in what we know about ecological disruptions and the possibility of partial Wolbachia coverage or hybrid mosquito populations, the probability that the mosquito release contributed significantly to my infection is between 65–80%.

That's not paranoia. That's a realistic risk assessment.

But What If... This Was Intentional?

Now let’s go one layer deeper. If someone wanted to use mosquitoes as a biological weapon, the steps are surprisingly simple:

1. Introduce them under the guise of health intervention.

2. Release a vector species like Aedes aegypti into areas where it wasn’t common.

3. Add a payload — be it a virus, a hormone disruptor, or something harder to trace.

4. Target immunocompromised populations, knowing they'll be most affected.

5. Offer the solution: vaccines, gene therapy, or endless releases of "friendly" mosquitoes.

The result? Confusion, dependency, and a controlled narrative.

Mosquitoes Have a Purpose Too

Let’s not forget that even the creatures we fear have roles to play. Mosquitoes pollinate, feed fish and frogs, and shape ecological balance. In some traditions, they are seen as spiritual messengers, challenging us to sharpen our awareness, guard our boundaries, and examine what irritates us.

Maybe the problem isn’t the mosquito. Maybe it’s our refusal to live in harmony with nature, our obsession with control, and our belief that we can outsmart life itself with a lab coat and a grant.

Final Thought

I share this not to stir fear, but to awaken discernment. Science can be noble, but it can also be used as a mask for power. If you’ve never had dengue in your life and then suddenly get hit twice after a wave of lab-grown mosquitoes shows up... you’re allowed to ask questions.

And if the answer doesn’t come from a paper, but from your gut?

Listen to it. It's probably the most honest data you’ll ever get.