Supporting action – facilitating connection
NOMPUMELELO’S STORY
Nompumelelo, 23, lived with her mother and sister in a rondavel near the village road. She was critically ill with HIV/Aids, despite being on ARVs for 3 months. The family were poor and food was scarce. They only had ZAR300 (£20) a month from the mother’s road sweeping job. Mrs Metwane herself was infected. Back in 2000, Mr Metwane had returned from the city, very ill. He had been out of contact for years. Mrs Metwane nursed him for 3 months – and on the day that he died, she was seen struggling to push him up the three kilometre hill in a wheelbarrow - to the road, where an ambulance would take him to hospital. Two years later, Nompumelelo had a baby son called Siyaphila. He died of AIDS related diarrhoea when only 6 months.
7 September 2006
‘I felt very sad today after visiting Nompumelelo and her mother. The situation has marginally improved but remains terribly serious. Nompumelelo slept through our visit, although her breathing might have sounded a bit steadier. I was disappointed that she was still on her little foam bed beside the smoky fire. I was unrealistically hoping that she might be getting a little stronger.
While there, Jane and I asked if we could see her medicines. Mrs Metwane produced a huge bag with at least 20 different packets of pills inside. My heart sank. When we looked at them carefully, we realised that there were several duplicates in separate packages. Some required taking one hour before food, others with food. It was hugely complicated. Jane thought that there were too many combinations of ARVs (ante-retroviral medicines).
At one stage, noises were heard outside, and Mrs Metwane immediately swept up all the packets back into the bag. The implication was obvious. The severity of Nompumelelo’s illness must be kept secret. The stigma of AIDS is so strong that Mrs Metwane was trying to retain a little precious dignity for her and her family’.
15th September 2006
Nompumelelo Metwane died of HIV/Aids aged 23, wearing a ‘thought on a thread’. She was the very first African village person to be given one. She had been too ill to learn the simple mindfulness exercises. Her body was very painful and it hurt her to breathe. But she had been taught to touch the bead and connect with people wearing a thread like hers, who were sending her their kind thoughts. Let us hope this gave her some comfort.
She was buried on 16th September in the rondavel yard, watched by her family and neighbours. May she realise complete peace.
Names changed to preserve anonymity. Jane works for Woza Moya.
