Hamburg, South Africa is a place of hope. Amidst the poverty and the disease, unemployment and alcoholism, hunger and death, there is hope. In the center of this seaside village sits Umtha Welanga Health Care Center – an AIDS clinic bustling with patients, nurses, social workers, care givers, treatment monitors, drivers, cooks and cleaners. This is one of the only AIDS clinics in the Peddie District – an area on the Indian Ocean in the Southeast corner of South Africa with 119 villages. Some patients come in here too weak to stand, bone thin, weakened and wracked by AIDS.
But this is a story of hope and happy endings. On this particular day in late July 2008, the medium-sized white Nissan pickup truck with a cab on the back pulls up to Umtha Welanga Health Care Center and the back window of the cab opens and four little boys clamber out. With them is a woman who looks like she’s in her late 30s. Two of the boys are her nephews, Stephen, 4, and Philip, 8. The truck driver, Major Mangwane, greets us and helps the woman out of the back. He has come from her village 2 hours away because the boys have an appointment to start anti-retroviral therapy to combat the AIDS diagnosis they received recently. The truck is one that 25:40 purchased in March from the funds raised by the South African Wine Tasting held by Rick and Anne Wallace. It is a white truck with the 25:40 logo on it in several places, and across both sides in large black letters it reads “One Child At A Time.” Major is paid to be a driver to transport patients to and from the AIDS clinic for appointments. Transportation is one of the biggest obstacles to medical attention here in the Peddie District. With three trucks and four drivers, transportation is one of the best services Umtha Welanga offers in this vast, rural area.
These boys look healthy. Even though they have tuberculosis and AIDS and the boys are very small for their ages, their illnesses have not wreaked havoc on their organs. Their aunt, Nokuzola, has been proactive in seeking medical attention for her small nephews and AIDS has not progressed too far. You can tell by how the boys play on the tractor parked in front of the health care center. They are rambunctious and happy.
But it belies a hard-scrabble life. Nokuzola is the primary caregiver of her nephews. Nokuzola’s sister-in-law, Stephen’s mother, committed suicide when she learned she had AIDS. She overdosed on medicine and hair formula. This is indicative of the stigma AIDS still has in Africa. Stephen’s mother would rather die than live with and manage AIDS. Stephen contracted AIDS at birth from his mother. Philip’s father is Nokuzola’s brother and he is ill, probably with AIDS. Nokuzola’s husband works sporadically as a brick layer in East London – a major city far from their tiny village. Like many sisters and mothers in Africa, Nokuzola took in her small nephews to care for them when their parents no longer could.
And she’s a good caregiver. The boys have been on tuberculosis medicine for 2 weeks and Nokuzola has been very attentive and responsible about administering the medicine properly. Rachel Johnson, the head nurse at Umtha Welanga, feels confident Nokuzola will be able to follow the complicated regimen for AIDS treatment for her two nephews.
Rachel and Thandie, a caregiver at Umtha Welanga who is fluent in Xhosa, reviews with Nokuzola the complicated dosing, which are different for both boys since they are different weights – a series of pills morning and night. Rachel fills the pill boxes marked for each day of the week and draws pictures of the pills as well so that Nokuzola can refer to them if she needs to when she returns to her village. Rachel also helps her open the safety caps on the bottles, since most people in the rural areas have never experienced having to open a prescription bottle.
I ask Nokuzola about how she has faced having her two nephews with AIDS and whether this has caused her problems in her village or at the boys’ school. She says she faced that original tragedy when her sister-in-law committed suicide. Then she turned her attention on the boys. Others in her village have AIDS and she will tell the teachers at the boys’ school so that they will understand when she has to take them out of school for a few days for follow-up appointments at Umtha Welanga. “I am happy because I know they are going to have a long life,” Nokuzola told me.
But this is a story of hope and happy endings. On this particular day in late July 2008, the medium-sized white Nissan pickup truck with a cab on the back pulls up to Umtha Welanga Health Care Center and the back window of the cab opens and four little boys clamber out. With them is a woman who looks like she’s in her late 30s. Two of the boys are her nephews, Stephen, 4, and Philip, 8. The truck driver, Major Mangwane, greets us and helps the woman out of the back. He has come from her village 2 hours away because the boys have an appointment to start anti-retroviral therapy to combat the AIDS diagnosis they received recently. The truck is one that 25:40 purchased in March from the funds raised by the South African Wine Tasting held by Rick and Anne Wallace. It is a white truck with the 25:40 logo on it in several places, and across both sides in large black letters it reads “One Child At A Time.” Major is paid to be a driver to transport patients to and from the AIDS clinic for appointments. Transportation is one of the biggest obstacles to medical attention here in the Peddie District. With three trucks and four drivers, transportation is one of the best services Umtha Welanga offers in this vast, rural area.
These boys look healthy. Even though they have tuberculosis and AIDS and the boys are very small for their ages, their illnesses have not wreaked havoc on their organs. Their aunt, Nokuzola, has been proactive in seeking medical attention for her small nephews and AIDS has not progressed too far. You can tell by how the boys play on the tractor parked in front of the health care center. They are rambunctious and happy.
But it belies a hard-scrabble life. Nokuzola is the primary caregiver of her nephews. Nokuzola’s sister-in-law, Stephen’s mother, committed suicide when she learned she had AIDS. She overdosed on medicine and hair formula. This is indicative of the stigma AIDS still has in Africa. Stephen’s mother would rather die than live with and manage AIDS. Stephen contracted AIDS at birth from his mother. Philip’s father is Nokuzola’s brother and he is ill, probably with AIDS. Nokuzola’s husband works sporadically as a brick layer in East London – a major city far from their tiny village. Like many sisters and mothers in Africa, Nokuzola took in her small nephews to care for them when their parents no longer could.
And she’s a good caregiver. The boys have been on tuberculosis medicine for 2 weeks and Nokuzola has been very attentive and responsible about administering the medicine properly. Rachel Johnson, the head nurse at Umtha Welanga, feels confident Nokuzola will be able to follow the complicated regimen for AIDS treatment for her two nephews.
Rachel and Thandie, a caregiver at Umtha Welanga who is fluent in Xhosa, reviews with Nokuzola the complicated dosing, which are different for both boys since they are different weights – a series of pills morning and night. Rachel fills the pill boxes marked for each day of the week and draws pictures of the pills as well so that Nokuzola can refer to them if she needs to when she returns to her village. Rachel also helps her open the safety caps on the bottles, since most people in the rural areas have never experienced having to open a prescription bottle.
I ask Nokuzola about how she has faced having her two nephews with AIDS and whether this has caused her problems in her village or at the boys’ school. She says she faced that original tragedy when her sister-in-law committed suicide. Then she turned her attention on the boys. Others in her village have AIDS and she will tell the teachers at the boys’ school so that they will understand when she has to take them out of school for a few days for follow-up appointments at Umtha Welanga. “I am happy because I know they are going to have a long life,” Nokuzola told me.
1 comment:
Great to see an update! Thanks for sharing these stories--it's a blessing to be able to be a little part of the light of hope you are shining in Hamburg.
Post a Comment