November 21, 2005
E-newsletter # 19
Dear Friends,
Where we live, World AIDS Day (December 1) is an observance of
major proportions—for obvious reasons. To date, 1.6 million
South Africans have died of AIDS-related infections. More than
10 percent of the total population of 46 million is currently
estimated to be living with HIV, 58 percent of these are women.
Such mind-boggling statistics represent specific human beings,
of course; but it is not only individual people who are affected.
Families and schools, factories and farms, villages, towns, and
cities are impacted as well. Churches too.
As first one parent and then the second in a family die from
the disease, children are left orphaned, often far away from other
relatives. The number of “child-headed households”
in poverty-stricken areas is increasing dramatically. In many
other situations, elderly grandmothers take on the responsibility
of raising young children, some of whom are also infected with
HIV.
When thousands of school teachers, police officers, factory workers,
and farm laborers fall prey to the pandemic, the systems and structures
in which they work are severely weakened. One measure that summarizes
the cumulative impact of HIV/AIDS is average life expectancy.
In South Africa, during the last decade, this index plummeted
from 62 to 47 years. Predictions are that by 2015 the number will
be down to 40.
The stigma associated with sexually transmitted diseases is a
major impediment to dealing effectively with AIDS. Far too often
we hear of instances where an infected person is unable to disclose
her status for fear of being ostracized by her community and even
by her congregation. Cultural and political strategies of denial
compound the pressures to keep silent until the consequences of
the infection are unavoidable. It is especially tragic when such
intimidation and exclusion are carried out by a church in the
name of Jesus Christ.
Fortunately, there are bodies of believers who apply the gospel
differently. We continue to be encouraged and inspired by the
witness of women and men who recognize sickness and suffering,
whatever the cause, as realities calling for a compassionate and
caring response. Their witness points toward an answer to the
question, “Where is God in the midst of this horrific ongoing
tragedy?”
The photographs on this page are volunteer caregivers on staff
at the Samaritan Care Centre, an AIDS hospice here in East London.
They’re all unemployed; many of them have no regular income
whatsoever; some live in shacks without electricity or running
water. They themselves have so little, yet give so much.
Please keep them and all other AIDS caregivers in your prayers,
especially on December 1.
East London’s “Most Wanted”
Caregivers
Andiswa Febana, like most of the other volunteers
at the Samaritan Care Centre, dreams of one day going back to
school to become a qualified nurse.
Anita Mnyamana (“darkness”) prefers
to work night shifts so she can spend the day with her mobility
impaired husband and five year old daughter.
Ann Nompucuko (“civilization”) Tikini
and her younger sister stay with her mother, a domestic worker,
in a one room shack. Her father and older siblings live in a rural
location an hour away.
Dorothy Ross is mother of six and grandmother
of four. Before the Centre had a stove, all the meals were cooked
in her family’s kitchen and carried over to the patients,
three times a day.
Elize Smiles and her two year old son stay with
her parents and siblings. None of them has regular income and
they make do “by the sheer grace of God,” as her mother
says.
Nomhle (“beauty”) Rangqu
is awaiting the day when her new government built house will be
finished. She and her two sisters earn a small income from selling
single cigarettes and sweets.
Ntombifikile (“a girl has arrived”)
Matanjana came to East London four years ago
to look for work but has not found a job. She stays with relatives
in a tiny shack and sleeps on the floor in front of their bed.
Rosemary Mitchell, Sister Rose as she is known
in the area, manages the day to day operations of the Centre.
She speaks three languages fluently, Xhosa, Afrikaans, and English.
Tershia Pieters is a mother of four. In order
to make time for her volunteer work at the Centre she gets up
at 4 every morning. By 5:30 the laundry, washed by hand, is on
the clothesline.
Thanduxolo (“lover of peace”) Matanjani
is the only man on staff. After high school he took a three months
Home Based Care course. When he works night shifts, the women
feel very safe.
Susanne and Ken
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