From Curiosity to the Fight Against Deadly Viruses: My Journey with Ebola and Nipah

It all started when I was a child, with a forgotten book lying next to the sofa. Today, I study the Nipah and Ebola viruses in maximum biosafety laboratories.

I never imagined that a childhood flu would end up shaping my scientific career. I was ten years old, at home, lying on the sofa with a fever and bored, and the only book within reach was The Hot Zone. The title did'nt sound promising, but there was no alternative. I started reading without really knowing what a virus was, what “Ebola” meant, or how an invisible threat could bring entire countries to their knees. I didn’t understand all the details, but I did grasp something fundamental: that virus was real, it was deadly, and it was deeply unsettling.

For weeks, I had nightmares. But I also felt curiosity. A lot of it. How could something so small cause so much damage? Why couldn’t the human body defend itself? Without realizing it, that book planted an obsession that has never left me.

Today, I still believe that curiosity —even the kind born out of fear— can be one of our best defenses against viruses. Because understanding them is, in itself, a way of protecting ourselves.

Years later, I studied Health Biology, and when the time came to choose an Erasmus program, I knew I wanted to get closer to that virus that had fascinated and terrified me in equal measure. I went to Lyon for six months but stayed eight years in France and another seven in Germany. The initial plan quickly dissolved: first a PhD, then a postdoc, and finally becoming a team leader in high-containment laboratories. All because of —or thanks to— viruses like Ebola… and Nipah.

The day I met Nipah

The Nipah virus is not as well-known as Ebola, but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. My first encounter with it was almost accidental, when I began working with highly pathogenic viruses. It immediately caught my attention for several reasons: its high lethality, its ability to infect different animals and humans, and above all, because it remains largely unknown to the general public.

Nipah virus particles. Photo: NIAID.

Nipah is a zoonotic virus: its natural hosts are fruit bats, and humans are accidental hosts. It is not a new virus —it was first identified in 1998— but it reappears almost every year as outbreaks, mainly in South and Southeast Asia. In some of these outbreaks, Nipah’s fatality rate has even exceeded that of Ebola.

And yet, until recently, hardly anyone had heard of it.

Pressurized suits and negative pressure

Working with the Nipah virus (and with Ebola) is not exactly like it appears in the movies, but it is far from routine. These viruses can only be handled in biosafety level 4 laboratories, the highest level that exists. These facilities use a negative-pressure cascade to prevent any leaks, and scientits work wearing pressurized suits that puff up like the Michelin Man. No, they are not sexy at all, but even if they won’t win any fashion contests, they fulfill their essential purpose: improving safety and minimizing risks when working with these viruses.

These viruses can only be handled in biosafety level 4 laboratories, the highest level that exists. These facilities use a negative-pressure cascade to prevent any leaks, and scientifs work wearing pressurized suits that puff up like the Michelin Man.

But safety does not depend on technology alone. I have worked many times in Africa, where such infrastructure does not exist, and there I learned a key lesson: working safely is, above all, working rigorously and understanding what you are dealing with. Biosafety starts in the mind.

What makes the Nipah virus so special?

As a scientist, what hooked me on the Nipah virus was a disturbing combination of factors. Its lethality is very high, and it has a remarkable ability to infect different mammals, including humans. In addition, the Nipah virus is particularly effective at disabling the immune system defenses, allowing it to spread rapidly through the body. It can cause severe respiratory symptoms, but it can also affect the central nervous system and lead to potentially fatal encephalitis. To date, there are not widely approved vaccines or treatments, which, combined with its high lethality and its ability to jump between species, makes it a threat science cannot afford to ignore.

Will we keep hearing about Nipah?

Probably yes. Not because it is a newly emerging virus, but because the increasing close contact between animals, humans and the environment facilitates its spillover between species and its recurrent re-emergence.

The good news is that, so far, Nipah outbreaks have been managed reasonably well: human-to-human transmission is limited, surveillance systems have improved significantly, as of today, there are two vaccines in phase I and one in phase II of clinical development, a crucial step in improving preparedness for future outbreaks.

How can we prepare?

Investing in research, strengthening epidemiological surveillance (including surveillance in animal reservoirs such as bats), and fostering international cooperation all helps improve preparedness for outbreaks and pandemics, while promoting global health. Understanding that viruses know no borders and that prevention starts long before the first case appears. And above all, not waiting for a virus to have a movie-worthy name before paying attention to it.

It all began with a forgotten book lying next to a sofa. Today, I still believe that curiosity —even the kind born out of fear— can be one of our best defenses against viruses. Because understanding them is, in itself, a way of protecting ourselves.