2008 Woodie Awards
Ignatian Corner: Ruthless Reaper: AIDS devastates Kenya's poor
Michael Mungai Nyambura '09
Issue date: 11/17/06 Section: Features
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The house was in total darkness, except for the light coming through the crevices of the mud-walled hut where she stayed. From where I was sitting, I could see children playing outside with old tires, rolling them around so fast, almost running over the frightened chickens. Every time I visited her, I had to fight tears and the constant choking feeling. Sarah, my mother's friend, had contracted HIV/AIDS, and from the look of her health, I could tell that she didn't have a long time to live.
Sarah's children were always delighted to see me, since I always came with gifts for everyone whenever I visited. During my previous visit, I had brought some bread and milk, and since they were such rare commodities in the children's lives, they went and called the neighbors' kids to bear witness to the bounty. In their innocence and youthfulness, they didn't seem to understand the condition and fate of their mother.
"Mungai, would you do me a favor?" the woman's feeble voice beckoned from the other side of a dirty curtain, which she used to partition the single-roomed hut. Without waiting for my response, she said, "Would you mind throwing out the stuff in the bucket under my bed in the latrine?" I knew what she meant by "stuff." Since the disease had immobilized her, she could never make it to the latrine, which was a couple of yards away from the house. I took out the bucket, and the smell coming from it was enough to choke me to death.
Walking back to the hut, I could see the discomfort Sarah and her family had to live with. The neighbors cast hateful gazes towards her dwelling. They thought her disease was a curse that would spread to them. Excommunication was the only sanction the community could impose on them, however, since the law was tough on people who directly interfered with HIV/AIDS patients. Once back in the hut, I busied myself by washing the dishes, which had mold growing on them. Rats were wise to quickly run out of my way, but some cockroaches that were not fast enough met a painful death from the crush of a spoon.
Sarah's children were always delighted to see me, since I always came with gifts for everyone whenever I visited. During my previous visit, I had brought some bread and milk, and since they were such rare commodities in the children's lives, they went and called the neighbors' kids to bear witness to the bounty. In their innocence and youthfulness, they didn't seem to understand the condition and fate of their mother.
"Mungai, would you do me a favor?" the woman's feeble voice beckoned from the other side of a dirty curtain, which she used to partition the single-roomed hut. Without waiting for my response, she said, "Would you mind throwing out the stuff in the bucket under my bed in the latrine?" I knew what she meant by "stuff." Since the disease had immobilized her, she could never make it to the latrine, which was a couple of yards away from the house. I took out the bucket, and the smell coming from it was enough to choke me to death.
Walking back to the hut, I could see the discomfort Sarah and her family had to live with. The neighbors cast hateful gazes towards her dwelling. They thought her disease was a curse that would spread to them. Excommunication was the only sanction the community could impose on them, however, since the law was tough on people who directly interfered with HIV/AIDS patients. Once back in the hut, I busied myself by washing the dishes, which had mold growing on them. Rats were wise to quickly run out of my way, but some cockroaches that were not fast enough met a painful death from the crush of a spoon.
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