A mosquito buzzing in my ear

 For many of us, especially those in Uganda, the sound of a mosquito at night is all too familiar. We know the irritation of lying in bed, exhausted, while a small unseen insect buzzes close to the ear, refusing to let us rest. It is a minor inconvenience that somehow becomes a major disturbance. Many of us from places with mosquitoes do not need this experience explained. We remember it clearly. 

Last night, there was a mosquito inside my mosquito net. I could not see it, but I could hear it clearly. Every time I turned on the light to catch it, it disappeared. When I switched the light off,  it returned and hovered close to my ear, buzzing continuously. I did not want to spray insecticide at that hour, nor did I want to apply repellant, so I stayed awake increasingly frustrated and unable to sleep properly. 

This reminded me of the African proverb that says, if you think you are too small to be effective, you have not been to bed with a mosquito. The mosquito simply produced a consistent sound that made rest impossible. Its power did not come from its size or its force; it came from its persistence. The experience really clarified the proverb in that effectiveness is not always about magnitude. Sometimes it is about repetition and proximity. 

This reflection led me to think about internal dialogue. Some people carry an ongoing voice that comments on their actions, decisions and identity. For many, that voice is more critical than supportive. It points out mistakes, magnifies short comings and reminds us of perceived failures. It hardly ever shouts but rather operates quietly and consistently. Over time, this repetition shapes how we see ourselves regardless of whether it is true or not. 

For a long time, I spoke to myself in ways I could not speak to anyone else. I was harsh, impatient and unforgiving. I treated mistakes as evidence of personal deficiency rather than part of learning. This did not make me better. It made me more anxious, more self-conscious and more mentally exhausted. 

There is a widespread belief that self-criticism leads to growth. In reality, excessive self-criticism reduces clarity. It shifts attention from problem-solving to self-punishment. Instead of asking what can I learn from this, the mind asks what is wrong with me? This is not a productive question.

The shift begun with me observing my internal language. When I noticed statements that were harsh and inaccurate, I tried to replace them with more neutral and useful ones. Not forced positivity, but realistic reframing, so to speak. For example, instead of "I always fail" I would say "this did not work." This small change did produce noticeable effects. I recovered from my mistakes faster and became more willing to try. The negative voice did not disappear, but it lost authority. 

Back to the proverb, a mosquito can control an entire night. Similarly, a thought can shape an entire self-image. If something small can cause significant disturbance, then I believe something equally small can create stability. A simple, kinder sentence when repeated often enough can change internal patterns. Learning to speak to myself with more fairness did not remove difficulty from my life. It made difficulty easier to carry. It created a more stable internal environment from which to think and act. 

The mosquito reminded and taught me that size is not the primary determinant of impact. Persistence is. Again, if a negative voice can shape a life through repetition, then a kinder and more rational voice can do the same. 

Eventually, I found the mosquito and killed it. The room became quiet and I slept. While some disturbances are small, they require attention. Ignoring them does not make them disappear. Noticing them, locating them and addressing them is what restores peace.