First Newsletter, Apr 9, 2007
"Sarah! Asteria is nowhere to be found and the grant money is missing!" This is the greeting I received one Friday morning upon my arrival at WEMA; the NGO I had been working with for a month and half.
Indeed, the donor was there and he was fuming! As it turned out, Asteria who was the director and founder of WEMA had cleared the bank account and vanished; leaving over one hundred people living with HIV/AIDS and sixty-three orphans in her wake. Now, you may think: how awful, how surprising, what bad luck to be a part of WEMA! But, let me assure you that this occurrence is so prevalent here that there is even a Swahili word for it! Yes, one could say my naove and idealist beliefs regarding the innate purity of non-governmental organizations here in Africa has, to say the least, become more informed!
By the time I had actual evidence to prove the suspicions that had been brewing in my mind during my volunteer activity at WEMA I was already emotionally involved with the patients and orphans who I had been administering medication, food, school supplies and psychological counseling to. I felt that I couldn't just leave them now; my heart would not let me. Many of the people I took care of had been abandoned before and were suffering from so much pain- pain I would probably never fully comprehend. I came to Africa to help and here was my opportunity. I would simply have to figure out a way on my own and start really getting involved in the community of Arusha, Tanzania.
This first newsletter will explain my initiation into the AIDS situation in Tanzania and the first personal project I have undertaken as a result of the dissolution of WEMA.
My first 'real life-non-mass media' experience with HIV/AIDS began on January 26th when I traveled to the home of Fatima, a 14 year old girl who was dying from the virus (I have attached her picture). I had brought with me a cuddly pink blanket, rice, various fruits and a story book. We have all seen the photographs of people who are close to death from AIDS, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Fatima was beyond emaciation and lacked the strength necessary to even hold up her head. She had stopped talking 6 months previously and had given up eating all together. Fatima did not appear to be cognizant of what was occurring around her; when I noticed that her eyes kept rolling in the back of her head, I could not help but sense how badly she wanted to simply let go of the misery. Fatima's acquisition of the deadly virus was shrouded in secrecy; all that I was told was that her HIV positive status had been discovered two years earlier, when she was only twelve years old. Fatima's Mother, whom was not infected with HIV, showed me a picture of her daughter taken three years previously. In that picture I saw an adorably plump little girl, whose facial expression portrayed curiosity and excitement, with fear and grief I imagined the horrific experience Fatima had endured when she was infected with HIV.
Fatima
Each day, I walk down Sokoine road and witness the same three or four year old girl, running alongside each man that passes by, grabbing at his hand. Some men go with her out of sight, as her mother sits not to far away with one arm around an infant and the other outstretched to accept change. I find it striking how truth can be so blatantly obvious here, yet those involved find it necessary to mask it. As an outsider I don't understand the reason for this yet, but then again, that is what I am: An outsider who does not have to endure this reality everyday of my life... how could I begin to understand?
One person is infected with HIV every 6.4 seconds. There is not one HIV story, there are millions. Each person I meet who is infected is an individual, with their own past, present and future.
The first project I have taken on during my year long stay in Africa is one which involves visiting 5 patients who are living with HIV/AIDS. I would like to describe one particular relationship I have developed with Moses and Halima: a married couple who are both HIV positive.
On February 1st, I traveled to Nembala, a very remote village with food and medication to the room of Moses and Halima I was instantly struck by the appearance of Moses who was only thirty-one years old. His body was simply skin covering bones, his eyes portrayed determination mixed with shame, his legs no longer enabled him to walk and he urinated with the assistance of a catheter. He had been taking ARV medication for 3 years and was currently in dire need of fluconozone. Acquisition of this medication was very important as he had an infection was interfering with his ability to eat and food consumption is pertinent for the effective metabolism of ARV medication. Moses asked me if I could procure the medication for him as he could not afford it and eagerly I responded "Ndiyo, hamna shida, rafiki yangu"- "Yes, don't worry my friend". As I left their room I was happy as I saw hope.
Even though there I had no support from WEMA, I made up my mind that I was going to get that medication for Moses no matter what; I had promised! After doing an interview about my volunteer work in Arusha with a Dutch magazine, the journalist made a wonderfully kind decision to donate! The donation was enough to enable me to buy medication and food for my five patients for an entire month!
The very next day I set off on my own to Nembala, armed with fluconozone, food, soap and a newspaper. When I arrived and saw Moses, I was completely taken aback as he seemed to have aged ten years in only two weeks. Halima's condition had also worsened; her weak body shook violently each time she coughed and her coughing lasted the duration of my visit. I quickly administered the medicine and cooked a meal for them. My mind was filled with a grey cloud, before my eyes lay the destructive force of AIDS; I prayed that the medication would work quickly....
Two weeks later I returned with more supplies and discovered that Moses' infection had been cured! During my conversation with the couple I learned of their fears; it had been eight months since Moses had been examined by a doctor as whenever he had been able to make his way to the local clinic the doctor had not been there. Moses felt like he no longer mattered and that this world had given up on him. It was obvious that his musculature was wasting away and this caused him great pain, he also had a strange large lump on his lower spine. As I examined his body, I was filled with fear; I was not a Dr. and had no idea what the lump was. All I could do was take note of all his symptoms and make a new promise: to find a doctor who would be willing to travel with me upon my next visit.
Through a network I have established in Arusha, I was able to persuade Dr. Shayo to make the two hour journey with me to Nembala. Can you imagine the joy, disbelief and sheer amazement on the faces of Halima and Moses when I showed up three days later with a medical doctor? Dr. Shayo brought with him lots of expensive and useful medicines and examined both patients. With physical therapy Moses should regain his ability to walk and thus my next mission is to find a physical therapist. I have attached a photo of Moses and I, which was taken last Tuesday- he is doing better then ever! One can live a long time with HIV if he/she is provided with adequate medication, plenty of food and compassion.
Sarah and Moses
Sarah and Halima
A few days after I first met Fatima I had a nightmare in which I was an AIDS patient. In that nightmare, I was lying on my bed feeling weak, alone and desperately frightened. The emotions in that nightmare were indescribably intense. The memory of those feelings is ever present in my mind and currently functions as the fuel which drives me each day. I believe that "it is in giving, we receive", as witnessing the courage with which Moses, Halima, Rose, Nembris, Mama Mosha, Bene and Advela face life, is a gift for which I will forever be thankful.