Revelations (HIV Edition)

So this is a topic i have been meaning to post about for awhile as its my main work. But its not an easy subject matter. 16 months into my service, I can start to talk about it here...

Recently, I went on a country-wide trek with a group for women living with HIV.  The HIV rate in the Gambia is relatively low at 2% but the stigma against people living with HIV is extraordinarily high. People are afraid to disclose their status for fear of being shunned from their communities. Husbands have thrown out and divorced their wives when they find out their HIV positive status. Children are sent to live away from fathers who are infected. Husbands die and the wives are made to marry their husband’s brother, only to be thrown out when the brother finds out the status of the wife. People become so ill that they cannot work or provide for their families. They live in perpetual fear that someone will find out their secret and tell everyone else.

So it’s not a pretty situation. We have met and interviewed over 40 people in the rural provinces about various issues ranging from fear of disclosing their status to not being able to feed their children. One of the people who stood out to me the most was a man I could only describe as someone you would see in a 1996 Time magazine report on the ravages of the virus. I will call him Buba.

Buba is a man in his early 40’s but looks like he is in his 60’s. He was tested and diagnosed with HIV two months ago but the virus has already reached advanced stages. In other words, he clearly has full-blown AIDS. Buba is about 6 ft, 4 in and weighs about 140 pounds. I have never seen someone so big look so small, so thin and so…defeated. His two wives have died (presumably of AIDS-related complications). Another two of his children have died. He lives in a 7 foot round hut with his two sons. He can’t eat. He can’t work. He feels helpless because he can’t provide food, clothing or school fees for his children.

Buba. I have blotted out his eyes to protect his privacy.

Buba has extremely inflamed lymph nodes and two blackened fingers with a black vein reaching up his arm. This was due to an improper IV drip where the fluid leaked outside of the vein and burst. As I am a cancer survivor, I saw the inflamed lymph nodes and immediately thought “lymphoma or leukemia” or some other terrible disease. I asked the social worker that accompanied us to get his lymph nodes tested but the social worker looked a bit helpless and said that could only be done if Buba could get to the main hospital in Banjul. Banjul is over 300 km from where we were and we were deep into the bush. With no car and no money, it wasn’t going to happen. Buba has not started ARV treatment but he will soon. As we said our goodbyes, I feared that it would be my first and last time seeing him. I couldn’t help crying when we got to the car.

I have been incredibly frustrated by so many different things here. I work a lot, almost to the point of exhaustion. I travel back and forth between my site and the capital at least 3 times a week to work with this HIV group.  I have been very frustrated at times because I feel like all I do is office work and grant writing. This country-wide trek with them changed that. Now I see where all these efforts go. I see the importance in the simplicity of getting rice and peanut butter to children of people living with HIV.  Sometimes the most basic things are what is needed. I see who we are working for. People living with HIV deserve worth and dignity and to be at peace with their situation. This is my hope. I can only continue to work tirelessly for all the Bubas in the Gambia.