Kenya: The Unsung Heroes of the Aids Pandemic
By, Lillian Aluanga, The East African Standard (Nairobi), December 2, 2006
The scourge has destroyed the family structure, leaving grandparents to care for orphans,
Mama Rispa Amuom and her granddaughter, Iska Anyango, 13, in Nyalkinyi Village
Ms Paulina Awino is hungry. It is well after 2pm and she has had nothing to eat since morning.
For more than two hours, she has been lying under a tree outside her hut, away from the scorching heat in Homa Bay District's Kogelo Kalanya area - hoping.
Awino is hoping for many things. She is hoping that God will give her more years to take care of her grandchildren, that her aching back will give her a moment's peace and that her grandchildren return home before dusk.
She is also hoping that a Good Samaritan will drop by with some little flour or omena for the family's evening meal. But most of all, the octogenarian is hoping for a miracle. She expects a miracle that will result in the development of a cure for Aids, to end the suffering of millions.
She knows only too well how devastating Aids can be. There was a time she had 11 children. Now she has none. At least five of them died from Aids related complications.
All she has now are memories of her children and the eager searching faces of her four orphaned grandchildren whom she has been raising for the past three years.
Awino is one of an increasing number of elderly people bearing the brunt of the effects of Aids in a continent that accounts for over 60 per cent of more than 38million global HIV infections.
Mama Maria Ogende who takes care of her orphaned grandchildren in Kogelo Kalanya village.
Ever since the first cases of Aids were reported in the 1980s scientists have worked overtime, conducting studies, running trials, developing tools of prevention and striving towards finding a cure. Reduced infection rates, access to ARV treatment and prevention of mother to child transmission of the virus have all been achieved in more than 20 years of battling the disease. But behind these gains lies the devastation the virus has wrought on families.
At the sound of her grand daughters, Emily Akinyi and Makril Adhiambo, returning home from the river, Awino struggles to sit up. She slowly raises her head from her 'pillow' - the bottom of what was once a straw basket used for storing grain - and rests her bony hands on the sides of the reed mat she has been lying on.
"My back has been aching for a while but there has been no money to go to hospital," Awino says, beckoning her granddaughters to her side.
Her face lights up as she fusses over the children. Are they tired? Had they found something to eat? Did they get enough water? The children obviously adore their grandmother and snuggle close her. She is the only 'parent' they have left.
"I am too weak and old to work. If I had the strength I would do all that I could to see that these children never sleep hungry and that they get a good education," Awino says.
Hunger has been a constant companion for Awino and her grandchildren. Tea is a luxury that rarely graces the table and Awino has taken to jealously guarding the little millet flour saved from the last harvest. They must not "waste" it. That means that porridge is also rare.
Akinyi, a shy girl of 13, recalls the last time she tasted chicken. It was last year, during Christmas when a neighbour brought them some, all in the season's spirit of good cheer.
Awino is haunted by the fate of her grandchildren when she dies. She stares at the clear skies as if seeking for some assurance but there is none. She shields her eyes from the sun and surveys the compound for a while. The weather is no longer favourable.
Not too far from where Awino sits, some whittling stalks of maize sway in the wind just a few metres away from a huge boulder where a green tunic has been spread to dry. An agulu (a large earthen pot used for storing water) stands outside her hut, half empty.
Mama Pauline Awino and her orphaned granddaughters Makril Adhiambo, eight, and Emily Akinyi, 13, at Kogelo Kalanya village, Homa Bay District. Awino, who is ailing, is the breadwinner of the family.
"My daughters are dead. I know it is Aids that killed them. Had they been alive, we would not be sleeping hungry," Awino says resignedly.
She does not know her age but says she was born at a time when the Europeans were fighting a 'big war'. Her neighbours estimate it was sometime just before World War One. "I pray everyday and ask God to give me some more time so that I can take care of these children until they are grown," Awino says, as she smiles at Adhiambo, eight.
Source: http://allafrica.com/stories/200612041207.html
The scourge has destroyed the family structure, leaving grandparents to care for orphans,
Mama Rispa Amuom and her granddaughter, Iska Anyango, 13, in Nyalkinyi Village
Ms Paulina Awino is hungry. It is well after 2pm and she has had nothing to eat since morning.
For more than two hours, she has been lying under a tree outside her hut, away from the scorching heat in Homa Bay District's Kogelo Kalanya area - hoping.
Awino is hoping for many things. She is hoping that God will give her more years to take care of her grandchildren, that her aching back will give her a moment's peace and that her grandchildren return home before dusk.
She is also hoping that a Good Samaritan will drop by with some little flour or omena for the family's evening meal. But most of all, the octogenarian is hoping for a miracle. She expects a miracle that will result in the development of a cure for Aids, to end the suffering of millions.
She knows only too well how devastating Aids can be. There was a time she had 11 children. Now she has none. At least five of them died from Aids related complications.
All she has now are memories of her children and the eager searching faces of her four orphaned grandchildren whom she has been raising for the past three years.
Awino is one of an increasing number of elderly people bearing the brunt of the effects of Aids in a continent that accounts for over 60 per cent of more than 38million global HIV infections.
Mama Maria Ogende who takes care of her orphaned grandchildren in Kogelo Kalanya village.
Ever since the first cases of Aids were reported in the 1980s scientists have worked overtime, conducting studies, running trials, developing tools of prevention and striving towards finding a cure. Reduced infection rates, access to ARV treatment and prevention of mother to child transmission of the virus have all been achieved in more than 20 years of battling the disease. But behind these gains lies the devastation the virus has wrought on families.
At the sound of her grand daughters, Emily Akinyi and Makril Adhiambo, returning home from the river, Awino struggles to sit up. She slowly raises her head from her 'pillow' - the bottom of what was once a straw basket used for storing grain - and rests her bony hands on the sides of the reed mat she has been lying on.
"My back has been aching for a while but there has been no money to go to hospital," Awino says, beckoning her granddaughters to her side.
Her face lights up as she fusses over the children. Are they tired? Had they found something to eat? Did they get enough water? The children obviously adore their grandmother and snuggle close her. She is the only 'parent' they have left.
"I am too weak and old to work. If I had the strength I would do all that I could to see that these children never sleep hungry and that they get a good education," Awino says.
Hunger has been a constant companion for Awino and her grandchildren. Tea is a luxury that rarely graces the table and Awino has taken to jealously guarding the little millet flour saved from the last harvest. They must not "waste" it. That means that porridge is also rare.
Akinyi, a shy girl of 13, recalls the last time she tasted chicken. It was last year, during Christmas when a neighbour brought them some, all in the season's spirit of good cheer.
Awino is haunted by the fate of her grandchildren when she dies. She stares at the clear skies as if seeking for some assurance but there is none. She shields her eyes from the sun and surveys the compound for a while. The weather is no longer favourable.
Not too far from where Awino sits, some whittling stalks of maize sway in the wind just a few metres away from a huge boulder where a green tunic has been spread to dry. An agulu (a large earthen pot used for storing water) stands outside her hut, half empty.
Mama Pauline Awino and her orphaned granddaughters Makril Adhiambo, eight, and Emily Akinyi, 13, at Kogelo Kalanya village, Homa Bay District. Awino, who is ailing, is the breadwinner of the family.
"My daughters are dead. I know it is Aids that killed them. Had they been alive, we would not be sleeping hungry," Awino says resignedly.
She does not know her age but says she was born at a time when the Europeans were fighting a 'big war'. Her neighbours estimate it was sometime just before World War One. "I pray everyday and ask God to give me some more time so that I can take care of these children until they are grown," Awino says, as she smiles at Adhiambo, eight.
Source: http://allafrica.com/stories/200612041207.html
posted by AIDS-Care-Watch at 9:39 am
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