Latest news with #Mocha
Express Tribune
07-04-2025
- Health
- Express Tribune
From natural disasters to humanitarian emergencies
On 12th January 2010, Haiti was hit by a powerful earthquake with the epicentre about 25 km from the capital Port-au-Prince. The death toll was well over a 100,000 people, and some estimates put the number to be above 300,000. During the rebuilding phase, and to maintain law and order, the UN deployed peacekeeping forces that were in addition to the existing UN mission in the country. In late October, a group of peacekeepers arrived from Nepal. In Nepal, these peacekeepers were exposed to cholera and some were suffering from it (but probably not showing any symptoms). No tests were done before or after their arrival in Haiti, even though such a test would have cost less than three dollars per person and were widely available. In Haiti, these peacekeepers from Nepal were housed in poorly constructed facilities, and soon one of the sewage reservoirs burst and entered one of the main waterways in Haiti. An outbreak of cholera soon engulfed the country to the extent that over 2,000 people died in just the first month alone. Before 2010, Haiti had never had a cholera outbreak in its entire history, and there was no local knowledge or infrastructure to contain the disease. This was also the time when the country was still suffering from the aftermath of the devastating earthquake. The cholera outbreak continued unabated and caused immense suffering in the country. By July 2011, the rate of spread of the disease was about one person getting infected every minute. Over the course of the next few years, more than ten thousand people had died and more than half a million had gotten sick. The UN continued to deflect blame for nearly a decade, and even when it offered a weak apology (after there was irrefutable genomic evidence), there was no compensation for the victims. It pledged $400 million for rebuilding, but even after a decade since the outbreak only 5% of the total amount had been raised, and less than 1% ($3 million) had been spent on rebuilding. Countless families still bear those scars. Yet, most countries that champion care and concern for the poor of the world on paper have moved on. Cholera in Haiti is no longer on their radar. Late last month, a terrifying earthquake hit Myanmar. The death toll is already in several thousands, but analysts fear that it will continue to rise. The final number may never be known. Here, a different dynamic is playing out. The military junta that is in power, and locked in a bloody civil war, has a terrible record of weaponising aid. In previous natural disasters such as Cyclone Mocha in 2023 and Typhoon Yagi in 2024, the military allowed aid to reach only the areas it controlled, while blocking it in parts that it no longer had control over. There is fear that the same story may play out again, thereby creating a painful and long-term humanitarian crisis for millions of poor people on the heels of a natural disaster. The situations in Haiti and the evolving situation in Myanmar are different in many ways, and those differences need to be recognised. But there are also important similarities that should trouble us. In both cases, the affected community suffers not just because of a natural disaster, but because how aid is managed, delivered and denied. People end paying a price not just because of the catastrophic event, but because those in power, or with power, fail to see the humanity and suffering of people that do not care about. The evolution of a natural disaster into a chronic humanitarian emergency is neither automatic nor inevitable. It is shepherded by decisions and decision-makers. It is built on decisions around who is worthy of support and who is dispensable.
The Guardian
04-04-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
The people of Myanmar can't seem to catch a break. Here's my plea to the international community
Two thoughts entered my head as soon as I saw that Myanmar, my home country, had been hit by an earthquake: 'Is everyone OK?', followed by, 'We just can't catch a break'. My loved ones thankfully turned out to be badly shaken but physically OK. There were material losses but nothing compared with what so many others are going through. The quake on 28 March was both powerful and shallow, a combination that tends to unleash devastation. But it is crucial not to attribute solely to the quake the terrible and heartbreaking images and stories trickling out of Myanmar, of people using bare hands to rescue trapped survivors and desperate pleas for medical assistance for the injured. What is turning this natural disaster into a full-blown humanitarian crisis is the actions of the military junta which seized power in February 2021. In the span of four years, I saw my country descend from a promising, if flawed, democracy into one struggling with a 'profound polycrisis'. Even before the quake hit, half the population was living below the poverty line, the currency has lost 70% of its value, and more than one in three people need assistance, according to the United Nations. Our healthcare infrastructure is in tatters while the rates of infectious diseases have soared. The army, meanwhile, was busy terrorising its own citizens: bombing communities, burning villages and cutting off communications. So many of the areas most affected by the quake, located in the Buddhist heartland of Sagaing and Mandalay where my family used to go on regular pilgrimages, were already highly vulnerable after four years of intense clashes and coming under the junta's regular bombardment. In fact nearly half of Myanmar's displaced population of 3.5 million are in quake-hit areas, which were the military's former prime recruiting grounds but now are a resistance stronghold. These communities have been further hollowed out as young people fled to avoid the conscription law and the junta forced civil society groups and private hospitals to close. These groups would normally be the first responders in natural disasters. Communication and electricity blackouts have also made it difficult to establish the full scale of the damage in some areas. Without internet access, local journalists have to rely on patchy mobile phone coverage. I'm glad the military made a rare appeal for international help, unlike in the aftermath of Cyclone Nargis in 2008 or more recently in 2023 with Cyclone Mocha. But I have serious doubts about its willingness and ability to provide aid effectively and impartially, given its history of blocking aid, and since some of the hardest hit areas are not under its control. I believe aid should not be conditional or political but I'm also not naive. The junta is likely to take advantage of this latest tragedy to portray itself as Myanmar's legitimate government, seek to reinforce the myth it is the only institution that can hold the country together, and get broader support for its upcoming elections. It has already shown a desire to have its cake and eat it: international aid without the scrutiny from international journalists, citing travel and accommodation challenges. Having spent years of my early career chasing disasters around South-East Asia, I know these things don't deter journalists. The junta is illegitimate. Whenever given the chance, Myanmar people have repeatedly shown they do not want military rule. I'm glad there is finally some international attention on Myanmar and I hope it is accompanied by substance, given the UN's assistance plans for Myanmar have been consistently woefully underfunded. Worse, a significant portion of the funds came from the United States, much of which is now gone after the Trump administration's dismantling of USAID. Here's my plea to the international community: Please push the junta to reverse its flimsy excuse for not allowing foreign journalists into the country, to honour the ceasefire it has finally announced days after pro-democracy groups committed to do so, to stop airstrikes of the kind it launched hours after the quake, and to allow unfettered access for aid and aid workers. Please do not rely on the junta alone to deliver aid. Please work with a variety of actors, including local groups with access to some of the most disconnected areas. Volunteers on the grounds are already worried about diseases spreading if the dead bodies are not removed soon because April showers usually accompany our new year, which starts next Sunday. Much has been made of the Myanmar people's resilience in the face of never-ending misfortune, but I have come to resent the term. We are resilient because we have had to be, because no one else has come to our aid. We should not have to endure this alone. Myanmar needs tangible, sustained support from the international community before this disaster claims even more lives. Thin Lei Win is an award-winning multimedia journalist who was born and raised in Myanmar. She co-founded Myanmar Now, an award-winning bilingual news agency
Yahoo
02-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
How aid becomes a weapon in Myanmar's war zone
In the immediate aftermath of an earthquake, there is a 72-hour "golden window" when those trapped under rubble are most likely to survive. But in the 72 hours after a 7.7 magnitude quake struck Myanmar on Friday, rescue and relief workers seeking access to some of the worst-hit areas were blocked by military authorities, multiple aid and human rights groups told the BBC. This was despite a rare plea for international humanitarian assistance by junta chief Min Aung Hlaing. "I would like to invite any country, any organisation, or anyone in Myanmar to come and help," he said in a speech shortly after the disaster, claiming he had "opened all ways for foreign aid". On the ground, things moved less freely. "I've talked to a few people now that were part of the rescue efforts in both Sagaing and Mandalay, and they said that [the military] imposed a curfew… the roads were blocked, the checkpoints were really long, and there was a huge checking of goods and services going in and a lot of questioning," John Quinley, director of international human rights group Fortify Rights, told the BBC. "It could have just been a lot easier to allow those people in," he added. "Obviously the Myanmar junta said it was for safety reasons, but I don't believe that's totally legitimate." Meanwhile, the golden window closed. At the time of writing, more than 2,886 people in Myanmar are confirmed dead as a result of the earthquake. On Tuesday night, an attack on an aid convoy further exacerbated concerns. At 21:21, a convoy of nine Chinese Red Cross Society vehicles carrying earthquake relief supplies was attacked by the military, according to Ta'ang National Liberation Army (TNLA), a resistance group in Shan State. The convoy was traveling toward Mandalay when it was fired upon by soldiers with machine guns, forcing it to turn back, the TNLA said in a Telegram post late on Tuesday. A junta spokesperson later confirmed that soldiers had shot at the vehicles, saying they had not been notified that the convoy would be passing through and fired warning shots after it failed to stop. But this is not the first time the junta has attacked aid workers, Mr Quinley said. "They pick and choose when aid can go in, and if they can't monitor it and they can't use it how they want, they restrict it," he said. "They definitely also, on top of that, actively target humanitarian workers." The junta, which began fighting a civil war with resistance forces in Myanmar after it seized control of the country in 2021, has a history of weaponising aid and humanitarian assistance: funnelling it towards areas that are under its control and restricting it in areas that are not. The BBC assessed the power balance in more than 14,000 village groups as of mid-November last year, and found the military only has full control of 21% of Myanmar's territory, nearly four years on from the start of the conflict. In previous natural disasters, such as Cyclone Mocha in 2023 and Typhoon Yagi in 2024, which left hundreds dead, the military obstructed relief efforts in resistance-held areas by refusing to release supplies from customs, authorise travel for aid workers or relax restrictions on lifesaving assistance. "It's a worrying trend that happens in times of crisis, like the earthquake," Mr Quinley said. "The junta is blocking any aid to what they see as groups that are aligned with the broader resistance." James Rodehaver, head of the Myanmar team at the Office for the UN's High Commissioner for Human Rights, further suggested that the junta deprives Myanmar's population of aid as a form of punishment. "They do that because the local population, by and large, does not support them, so by depriving them of humanitarian aid, they are both punishing them but also cutting off their ability to support themselves and be resilient," he told the BBC. There are already signs the junta may be repeating this tactic in Sagaing. Although central Myanmar, which includes the cities of Sagaing and Mandalay, is nominally run by the junta - meaning aid can only be delivered to the area with their co-operation - large parts of the broader Sagaing and Mandalay regions are considered resistance strongholds. The likelihood that the junta might tactically deprive these areas of aid has prompted outcry from hundreds of human rights and civil society organisations, who have urged the international community to ensure relief efforts get to where they're most needed, and aren't channelled through the military government. One such statement, signed by 265 civil society organisations and released on Sunday, notes that most of the worst-hit areas are under the effective control and administration of pro-democracy resistance groups. "Myanmar's history provides stark warnings about the dangers of channelling aid through the military junta," it reads. In Sagaing, the impact of aid shortfalls can already be seen in troubling ways, according to relief agencies. They speak of shortages of food, water and fuel, while trucks carrying aid are stranded at military checkpoints around the city. Hundreds of residents, suddenly homeless, are sleeping outside on the street. Rescue volunteers who were forced to dig through the rubble with their bare hands have run out of body bags for those they couldn't save. Other community members seeking to respond to the earthquake are being forced to get authorisation from junta authorities by submitting lists of volunteers and items to be donated, local media reported. This tactic – of bombarding responders with lengthy bureaucratic checklists and processes – is routinely deployed by the junta to restrict the activities of international aid organisations in Myanmar, humanitarian sources told the BBC. According to a registration law imposed in 2023, such organisations must attain a registration certificate, and often sign a memorandum of understanding with relevant government ministries, to legally operate inside the country. One source, who spoke to the BBC on condition of anonymity, said aid groups are often required to remove certain activities, areas or townships from their proposals, with no room for negotiation. Areas where the junta doesn't have oversight or control over the aid work are typically those that are disallowed, they added. Aid agencies have found ways to navigate the junta's restriction, however: a lot of humanitarian assistance in Myanmar happens underground, via local groups that can bypass checkpoints and distribute aid without attracting the attention of the authorities. Many financial transactions in humanitarian aid also happen outside of Myanmar's banking system, so that actors can avoid scrutiny and potential investigation from the country's central bank, a source told the BBC. In some cases, humanitarian organisations open bank accounts in Thailand so that they can privately receive aid funds, then carry the money over the border into Myanmar in cash. Such covert methods take time, however, and could lead to potentially fatal delays of days or weeks. Some aid workers are hopeful that, given the scale of Friday's earthquake and the international appeal for assistance by Min Aung Hlaing, it may be easier to overcome barriers and provide aid more efficiently. "In the past we have faced some challenges," said Louise Gorton, an emergency specialist based in Unicef's East Asia and Pacific Regional Office. "The scale of this emergency, though, is significantly higher… I think there will be pressure on the regime to ensure unfettered and unimpeded humanitarian access - and we'll continue to repeat the same need and find ways, sometimes low-key ways, to deliver aid." Cara Bragg, country manager for the Catholic Relief Services (CRS) team in Myanmar, said that while it's too early to tell whether the junta will truly "open all ways for foreign aid", her team is prepared to navigate the complex humanitarian situation to deliver assistance. "It's certainly a concern that they [the military] may direct the aid in specific places, and not based on need," said Ms Bragg, who is based in Yangon. "But as humanitarian actors CRS works under a humanitarian mandate, and will be very focused on getting aid to the places it needs to go - to the hardest-hit areas, regardless of who controls them." Early indications suggest that, despite Min Aung Hlaing's plea to the international community, the embattled junta leader is unlikely to prioritise the unfettered flow of humanitarian aid. Shortly after the earthquake, military jets launched a series of airstrikes on affected areas, killing more than 50 civilians, according to the National Unity Consultative Council (NUCC). Then, on Tuesday, Min Aung Hlaing rejected ceasefire proposals that were put forward by resistance groups in a bid to facilitate aid. Military operations would continue as "necessary protective measures", he said. The junta changed its mind a day later, agreeing to 20-day ceasefire to help relief efforts. But it remains to be seen whether the pause in hostilities holds – the military stressed it would "respond accordingly" if rebels launched attacks. For many onlookers, this seeming contradiction - of asking for aid with one hand while conducting military strikes with the other - chimes with Min Aung Hlaing's history of duplicity. John Quinley, from Fortify Rights, suggested that the recent appeal for foreign aid is more likely an appeal for international recognition. Speaking before the military's ceasefire announcement, he noted that the junta leader had "lied on numerous occasions about ceasefires and the gross violations he's commanded". Against that backdrop, Mr Quinley added, it's critical to ensure earthquake relief gets to where it is most needed. "I'm not hopeful when it comes to taking what Min Aung Hlaing says with any hint of truth," he said. "I think as a human rights group we need to monitor: OK, [Min Aung Hlaing] allows aid in - but is it actually reaching people in need? Or is he weaponising the aid? Is he blocking the aid from getting to communities in need?"
BBC News
02-04-2025
- Politics
- BBC News
How aid becomes a weapon in Myanmar's war zone
In the immediate aftermath of an earthquake, there is a 72-hour "golden window" when those trapped under rubble are most likely to in the 72 hours after a 7.7 magnitude quake struck Myanmar on Friday, rescue and relief workers seeking access to some of the worst-hit areas were blocked by military authorities, multiple aid and human rights groups told the was despite a rare plea for international humanitarian assistance by junta chief Min Aung Hlaing."I would like to invite any country, any organisation, or anyone in Myanmar to come and help," he said in a speech shortly after the disaster, claiming he had "opened all ways for foreign aid".On the ground, things moved less freely."I've talked to a few people now that were part of the rescue efforts in both Sagaing and Mandalay, and they said that [the military] imposed a curfew… the roads were blocked, the checkpoints were really long, and there was a huge checking of goods and services going in and a lot of questioning," John Quinley, director of international human rights group Fortify Rights, told the BBC."It could have just been a lot easier to allow those people in," he added. "Obviously the Myanmar junta said it was for safety reasons, but I don't believe that's totally legitimate."Meanwhile, the golden window the time of writing, more than 2,886 people in Myanmar are confirmed dead as a result of the earthquake. On Tuesday night, an attack on an aid convoy further exacerbated 21:21, a convoy of nine Chinese Red Cross Society vehicles carrying earthquake relief supplies was attacked by the military, according to Ta'ang National Liberation Army (TNLA), a resistance group in Shan convoy was traveling toward Mandalay when it was fired upon by soldiers with machine guns, forcing it to turn back, the TNLA said in a Telegram post late on Tuesday.A junta spokesperson later confirmed that soldiers had shot at the vehicles, saying they had not been notified that the convoy would be passing through and fired warning shots after it failed to this is not the first time the junta has attacked aid workers, Mr Quinley said."They pick and choose when aid can go in, and if they can't monitor it and they can't use it how they want, they restrict it," he said. "They definitely also, on top of that, actively target humanitarian workers." The junta, which began fighting a civil war with resistance forces in Myanmar after it seized control of the country in 2021, has a history of weaponising aid and humanitarian assistance: funnelling it towards areas that are under its control and restricting it in areas that are BBC assessed the power balance in more than 14,000 village groups as of mid-November last year, and found the military only has full control of 21% of Myanmar's territory, nearly four years on from the start of the conflict. In previous natural disasters, such as Cyclone Mocha in 2023 and Typhoon Yagi in 2024, which left hundreds dead, the military obstructed relief efforts in resistance-held areas by refusing to release supplies from customs, authorise travel for aid workers or relax restrictions on lifesaving assistance."It's a worrying trend that happens in times of crisis, like the earthquake," Mr Quinley said. "The junta is blocking any aid to what they see as groups that are aligned with the broader resistance."James Rodehaver, head of the Myanmar team at the Office for the UN's High Commissioner for Human Rights, further suggested that the junta deprives Myanmar's population of aid as a form of punishment."They do that because the local population, by and large, does not support them, so by depriving them of humanitarian aid, they are both punishing them but also cutting off their ability to support themselves and be resilient," he told the are already signs the junta may be repeating this tactic in central Myanmar, which includes the cities of Sagaing and Mandalay, is nominally run by the junta - meaning aid can only be delivered to the area with their co-operation - large parts of the broader Sagaing and Mandalay regions are considered resistance likelihood that the junta might tactically deprive these areas of aid has prompted outcry from hundreds of human rights and civil society organisations, who have urged the international community to ensure relief efforts get to where they're most needed, and aren't channelled through the military such statement, signed by 265 civil society organisations and released on Sunday, notes that most of the worst-hit areas are under the effective control and administration of pro-democracy resistance groups."Myanmar's history provides stark warnings about the dangers of channelling aid through the military junta," it reads. In Sagaing, the impact of aid shortfalls can already be seen in troubling ways, according to relief speak of shortages of food, water and fuel, while trucks carrying aid are stranded at military checkpoints around the city. Hundreds of residents, suddenly homeless, are sleeping outside on the street. Rescue volunteers who were forced to dig through the rubble with their bare hands have run out of body bags for those they couldn't community members seeking to respond to the earthquake are being forced to get authorisation from junta authorities by submitting lists of volunteers and items to be donated, local media tactic – of bombarding responders with lengthy bureaucratic checklists and processes – is routinely deployed by the junta to restrict the activities of international aid organisations in Myanmar, humanitarian sources told the to a registration law imposed in 2023, such organisations must attain a registration certificate, and often sign a memorandum of understanding with relevant government ministries, to legally operate inside the source, who spoke to the BBC on condition of anonymity, said aid groups are often required to remove certain activities, areas or townships from their proposals, with no room for negotiation. Areas where the junta doesn't have oversight or control over the aid work are typically those that are disallowed, they agencies have found ways to navigate the junta's restriction, however: a lot of humanitarian assistance in Myanmar happens underground, via local groups that can bypass checkpoints and distribute aid without attracting the attention of the financial transactions in humanitarian aid also happen outside of Myanmar's banking system, so that actors can avoid scrutiny and potential investigation from the country's central bank, a source told the BBC. In some cases, humanitarian organisations open bank accounts in Thailand so that they can privately receive aid funds, then carry the money over the border into Myanmar in covert methods take time, however, and could lead to potentially fatal delays of days or weeks. Some aid workers are hopeful that, given the scale of Friday's earthquake and the international appeal for assistance by Min Aung Hlaing, it may be easier to overcome barriers and provide aid more efficiently."In the past we have faced some challenges," said Louise Gorton, an emergency specialist based in Unicef's East Asia and Pacific Regional Office."The scale of this emergency, though, is significantly higher… I think there will be pressure on the regime to ensure unfettered and unimpeded humanitarian access - and we'll continue to repeat the same need and find ways, sometimes low-key ways, to deliver aid."Cara Bragg, country manager for the Catholic Relief Services (CRS) team in Myanmar, said that while it's too early to tell whether the junta will truly "open all ways for foreign aid", her team is prepared to navigate the complex humanitarian situation to deliver assistance."It's certainly a concern that they [the military] may direct the aid in specific places, and not based on need," said Ms Bragg, who is based in Yangon. "But as humanitarian actors CRS works under a humanitarian mandate, and will be very focused on getting aid to the places it needs to go - to the hardest-hit areas, regardless of who controls them."Early indications suggest that, despite Min Aung Hlaing's plea to the international community, the embattled junta leader is unlikely to prioritise the unfettered flow of humanitarian aid. Shortly after the earthquake, military jets launched a series of airstrikes on affected areas, killing more than 50 civilians, according to the National Unity Consultative Council (NUCC).Then, on Tuesday, Min Aung Hlaing rejected ceasefire proposals that were put forward by resistance groups in a bid to facilitate aid. Military operations would continue as "necessary protective measures", he junta changed its mind a day later, agreeing to 20-day ceasefire to help relief efforts. But it remains to be seen whether the pause in hostilities holds – the military stressed it would "respond accordingly" if rebels launched many onlookers, this seeming contradiction - of asking for aid with one hand while conducting military strikes with the other - chimes with Min Aung Hlaing's history of Quinley, from Fortify Rights, suggested that the recent appeal for foreign aid is more likely an appeal for international before the military's ceasefire announcement, he noted that the junta leader had "lied on numerous occasions about ceasefires and the gross violations he's commanded".Against that backdrop, Mr Quinley added, it's critical to ensure earthquake relief gets to where it is most needed."I'm not hopeful when it comes to taking what Min Aung Hlaing says with any hint of truth," he said."I think as a human rights group we need to monitor: OK, [Min Aung Hlaing] allows aid in - but is it actually reaching people in need? Or is he weaponising the aid? Is he blocking the aid from getting to communities in need?"
NBC News
21-03-2025
- Health
- NBC News
Best sanitizer ever? Why Touchland is the only hand sanitizer worth using
Hand sanitizers are rarely glamorous, unless you have one from Touchland. The brand's chic packaging, hydrating formula and delicious scents have completely turned traditional hand sanitizers on their head, especially in a market that seems dominated by drying gel formulas (and as someone who grew up with a germaphobe mom and had hand sanitizers attached to my hip, the heavy alcohol scent still haunts me to this day). My mom introduced me to Touchland's buzzy hand sanitizers a few years back, and now everyone I know uses them (its widespread popularity doesn't come as a surprise considering the brand reached $100 million in sales last year). These $10 mists have become status symbols among teens and adults alike: My siblings, who are 8, 10 and 13 years old, have multiple in their backpacks, and so do most of their classmates. The more you have, the higher your 'cool' factor, according to my Gen-Z and Gen Alpha siblings. Keep reading to learn more about why I and everyone else are obsessed with these pocket-sized hand sanitizers right now. Want more from NBC Select? Sign up for our newsletter, The Selection, and shop smarter. What is Touchland hand sanitizer? Touchland Power Mist Hydrating Hand Sanitizer The spray hand sanitizers are made with alcohol, aloe vera and radish root ferment filtrate to kill bacteria, hydrate your skin and retain moisture so your hand stays soft, according to the brand. What makes these hand sanitizers stand out is their pleasant yet subtle scents (each of which has its own correlating color). The current Power Mist lineup has 14 scents and one fragrance-free version. A button on the sanitizer's small, square packaging (roughly the size of your palm) triggers a fine mist that, unlike the gel consistency of a typical hand sanitizer, doesn't feel goopy or messy. It takes about 20 seconds to dry, so application is quick and easy. The Power Mist Hydrating Hand Sanitizers are sold individually and available in packs and sets. Touchland also collaborates with other brands (like Hello Kitty) and has limited-edition seasonal scents, includingPeppermint Mocha and Spiced Pumpkin-Tini, throughout the year. The brand also has specialty versions, including Glow Mist (to sanitize, hydrate and improve tone and texture) and Gentle Mist (to sanitize, hydrate and soothe skin). These are usually more expensive at $16 each. Why are Touchland's hand sanitizers so popular right now? I can't leave home without my Touchland hand sanitizers, and for good reason: They're easy to apply, smell great and leave my hands feeling soft and hydrated. Spray bottle packaging What stands out to me about these hand sanitizers is that they don't have a cap (which, in my experience with traditional hand sanitizers, create a liquid mess). Instead, it comes in a small spray bottle, so a gentle mist activates at the press of a button. This packaging makes it easy to spray and disinfect with just one hand. It was also easier for my siblings to use when they were younger, and it's still a more convenient option for my grandparents and anyone with dexterity issues. Unlike other hand sanitizers, which traditionally have a cylinder shape, these are flat, slim and compact. Their size is comparable to that of a cardholder, and the width is similar to an iPhone. This makes them perfect for slipping into my pockets and my purse. I can toss them into my luggage without taking up much room (plus, they're under three ounces, so they meet TSA standards). You can also secure the sanitizer using the Hand Mist Case or its pouch, The Touchette. At school pick-up, I notice my siblings and their friends have one attached to each of their backpacks, and my aunts and uncles have it on their diaper bags at family functions. Subtle but great scent Last week, I smelled something rosy and fragrant, and thought one of my coworkers sprayed perfume. But when I turned to her and asked what the smell was, it turns out that all she did was spray her Touchland hand sanitizer. While many hand sanitizers on the market are on opposite sides of the spectrum in terms of scent (some are too fragrant, while others smell like chemicals), Touchland found the perfect balance between fragrant and effective. The scents aren't overwhelming to the point where you get a headache or feel nauseous, and they mask the smell of alcohol in the formula. While most hand sanitizers leave an intense, chemical-heavy smell on my hands several minutes after I apply them, Touchland's scented versions leave a pleasant aroma that subtly lingers. Even the fragrance-free option (which I often use because I have sensitive skin) doesn't have that rubbing alcohol smell. Plus, each scent is brightly dyed, making it fun to look at and hold. All three generations of my family found multiple Power Mists that they love and alternate between regularly. Hydrating and lightweight feel You might find that many common sanitizers leave an uncomfortable residue that's sticky or greasy, regardless of whether it's in spray or gel form. Thankfully, the Touchland sprays are the complete opposite. Because the mist is so incredibly fine and lightweight, it takes only seconds to absorb, and it doesn't leave a trace on my hands (besides a pleasant scent). Usually, I would have to run to apply hand cream after applying a typical hand sanitizer, but despite having alcohol in the formula, Touchland's sanitizers are hydrating enough on their own. Plus, neither the scented or unscented versions trigger or irritate my sensitive, eczema -prone skin. How does Touchland hand sanitizer compare to alternatives? The Touchland Power Mist Hydrating Hand Sanitizer is around the same price as similar sprays like the Noshinku Refillable Natural Hand Sanitizer ($9), and it falls in the middle range of popular options like the Bath & Body Works Spray ($3.95) and Primally Pure Hand Sanitizer ($16). Touchland is more expensive than your everyday sanitizers, like the Purell Hand Sanitizer ($2.50), but they don't have that drying, smelly and messy gel formula, which makes them worth the higher price tag, in my opinion. What makes Touchland stand out from most of its competitors is its packaging — most spray and gel options have caps you have to mess with and are bulkier, so they take up more room in my pockets and bags. Plus, with so many scents and accessories to choose from, there's an option for everyone. Why trust NBC Select? I'm an associate reporter, and I write about new product launches and beauty and wellness topics, including recent stories on the best body serums and eye creams. For this story, I shared my experience using Touchland Hand Sanitizer for five years.
