An HIV Picture

One of my placement objectives is to mainstream HIV and AIDS activities into my organisation’s programmes. So far some approaches include sessions on HIV prevention and ARV treatment in teachers’ training workshops, youth peer education groups, and using school open houses as opportunities to link communities to VCT (voluntary counselling and testing) programmes. I’ve been involved with HIV prevention education for a variety of audiences, so I’m familiar with the usual introduction: What is HIV? What are the modes of transmission? What factors increase risk? In projects I’ve work with in Canada, there seemed to be a sense that the disease didn’t really refer to us and no one was particular worried about contracting HIV. What is starting to occur to me here is how close a connection everyone has to HIV.

We’ve all heard the statistics on HIV rate in sub-Saharan Africa – as high as 1 in 4 adults is infected in some areas. The average life expectancy in Zambia is now around 35 years old. An indicator in the Human Development Index (2004) measures severe health deprivation by calculating the probability of not surviving past the age of 40 – in Zambia, the probability is 60%. What this means in real life is regular funerals. In the little over five months in Zambia, I have been aware of the deaths of four teachers from schools that my organisation supports. I have also been to two funerals. Before coming to Zambia, I had only ever attended two funerals in my whole life. As my relationship develops with colleagues and friends, I am realizing the extent of the toll of HIV. Everyone has a connection to the disease. Someone in the family is infected. Someone is taking care of children whose parents have died. People take time off from work to take care of family members or attend funerals. People come down with pneumonia and no one is sure whether we will see them again. Outside of my work, I hear the stories as well. A few weeks ago, a guard lost his sister and yesterday, I heard that my tailor’s son died. Probably not all these deaths were as a result of HIV, but there is a good chance they were. I find it shocking that people will never say this person died from HIV. It just goes to show how high the stigma is. Yes, technically it is a whole slew of other opportunities infection and illnesses that kill the person, but very, very few people will say the word AIDS. However, everyone assumes. How could you not when the person is in their 20/30s and rail thin.

While I still strongly believe that prevention through comprehensive life skills based education is important, I also believe that testing and treatment programmes must be increased. At the same time of prevention young people from becoming infected, the caregivers of the young people must also be kept alive. Making treatments more accessible and available will also breakdown the stigma of HIV. I wonder if I will ever be able to ask someone straight out whether they have HIV. My worry is that the person probably assumes they’re positive, but has never actually been tested. No matter how many HIV programmes are in place, the pandemic cannot be slowed down without good leadership and coordination. Government and community leaders as well as church leadership can do a lot in passing on the correct information and promoting testing and treatment. Instead, incorrect and superstitious information float around. A Zambian paper published an article last month on how the Americans have a cure for AIDS, but are withholding it. There are so many facets to the HIV pandemic. I am acutely aware of how poverty increases one’s vulnerability to the disease, but I am convinced that sound prevention education can play a role.

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Stephanie Nolen, my Globe and Mail hero has a new book, 28: Stories of AIDS in Africa. The Globe and Mail website had some excerpts from the book; they seem to have since made them subscription only, but this video should work.