Twenty-eight Stories of Aids in Africa

I spent a great deal of time in 2007 reading and re-reading Stephanie Nolen’s book—Twenty Eight Stories of Aids in Africa. That’s one story for each million of the 28 million people living with HIV/Aids in sub—Saharan Africa today, she tells us. These are mostly stories of women, who have become the target of this dire plague. Those most commonly stricken are very young. As Stephen Lewis says, the most dangerous situation for a woman in Africa today is to be young and newly married. They have been taught the ABCs system to protect themselves. A—be abstinent before marriage. B—be faithful. C—use condoms. They willingly obey the first two. But they are commonly married to older men, who are promiscuous, and have a feeling of complete entitlement. The wives are soon infected. They may bear two or three children—and then die, still in their twenties. And it is most often the Grandmothers who are raising the children of their deceased offspring.   Only one story pictures a grandmother surrounded by fifteen grandchildren. In former days, Regina would sit in the shade of  the large tree in her yard, perhaps keeping an eye on a  pudgy baby just learning to walk. Instead, Regina has work and worries and sixteen grandchildren to care for. In her village, this is the norm. She farms a little land as well as her aching back will allow. The older children work in the village to earn enough to go to school. She feeds them as well as she can. This is the type of situation the Stephen Lewis Foundation works for. The grandmothers are the heroes of the Pandemic.   Other stories tell of the success of remarkable women like Lydia Mungherera . Tall, striking and assertive, she is able to afford the drug cocktail that keeps her well. An untiring physician, she has spoken at conferences around the continent  and abroad. For many years she did not believe that she, a person of privilege by African standards, could have this disease. She was near death when her family took over, arranged for the drugs , and  nursed her back to life. She knows how fortunate she was to have this family, which did not shudder at the word “aids”, and to live in Uganda, where the president wisely launched an early fight against the disease. Now, says Nolen she “multitasks continuously, like a child with an attention deficit.” She is part of a small group of Aids professionals, and travels constantly.   Then there is Cynthia Leshomo, “born to be a beauty queen.” She, too refused to believe that she could possibly have Aids. It was something that happened to others —not to her.  “Stigma”is an important word in the Pandemic. It conveys the fear and shame that still cling to the disease. Even when direly ill, Cindy refused “the test.” She finally became so frail that she gave in and saw a doctor. But things had begun to change in Botswana. The doctor showed her a little bottle of pills. If she tested positive, he explained, these would save her life. Her mother bought her the first month’s supply, and she lived.  .   Here is the exciting part of Cindy’s story.  Once again  beautiful and healthy, she entered a Beauty Pageant competition made just for her—Miss HIV Stigma Free. The crowning moment came when she swayed seductively down the catwalk, carrying a clay water pot. At the end she smiled, sank gracefully to her knees , and  took from the pot a small bottle of mineral water and  a pill container.  Again she smiled at the crowd. Before them all, Cindy swallowed her ARVs. There was no doubt about the winner.   She is now in great demand—a celebrity. Miss HIV Stigma Free has loosened the knot that strangled the cause of openness.   These are fortunate victims of Aids. But in many parts of Africa, drugs are still available only to those who are affluent. And some who have followed all the safe-sex rules may be cruelly victimized.   Thokazani, or TK as Nolen calls him, was one of those.“It would never happen to him”, he said. He had always practiced safe sex. When a friend told Nolen that TK had Aids, she could hardly believe it. It was a year before he told his story. One night he was awakened by screams from a neighbour’s house. Rushing to help, he was injured—he bled. In trying to help, he had been infected by a burglar’s blood.   Today, thanks to the pills, he is alive. But he feels so limited. His medecine costs much of his meager income. And he hesitates to start a real relationship.  He feels he is living with a ticking clock.   Nolen is a faultless story-teller; her book is compelling. But Africa, the country with a great future, has been gravely stricken. The Clinton Foundation strives for greater access to drugs. The Gates foundation works tirelessly for a vaccine. The Stephen Lewis Foundation goes straight to the grassroots—the grandmothers; the orphans. But the need is still crucial.

 

< Prev		Next >