Through the experience of Caroline, mother of Patrick,
Justine, Mary and Joseph, these pictures tell the story of how AIDS is
affecting millions of families in Africa.
I gave a slide show to
a university photography class in the U.S. two years ago and answered
questions about my work in Africa. Many of the students seemed shocked
that anyone would spend their own money to fly half way around the
world, take risks and put up with hardship to do a story that may or may
not get published. All I can say is, you do it because something inside
you compels you to bear witness, to question someone else's version of
the truth, to tell an important story. And if you're fortunate, you have
an opportunity to help change things.
The story I wanted to tell
was the story of the staggering number of children orphaned in Africa
because of AIDS. Western countries had in many ways started to view AIDS
as a controllable illness because expensive drugs were available and
people heard less and less about deaths from AIDS in the U.S. and
Europe. But for most of the rest of the world, especially Africa, this
is far from reality.
I ended up telling that story through one
Ugandan woman and her children. Having lived in Africa and having
covered major stories there — like the civil war in the Congo or famine
in southern Sudan and Ethiopia — I was aware that events in Africa
attract little attention unless thousands or tens of thousands of deaths
are involved. Yet each tragedy is the tragedy of one person's life. The
AIDS Widows and Orphans Family Support (AWOFS) organization, one of
several Ugandan aid agencies assisting people with AIDS, introduced me
to one of its clients: Caroline Nantamu and her children.
Caroline was in many ways typical of women in Africa infected by
their sexual partners. She tested HIV positive when pregnant with her
youngest child, Joseph. African women usually learn of the virus and are
tested when they visit ante-natal clinics, but the men often deny
carrying the virus or infecting their partners. Caroline's husband never
admitted to having AIDS and was never tested. He died soon after she was
diagnosed HIV positive from what was assumed to be an AIDS-related
illness. When Caroline died, her children were alone because remarriage
and death, including two sisters who died of AIDS, had eroded the
extended family network upon which most Africans depend.
Caroline Nantamu was 34 when I first met her in July of 1998.
Her oldest child Patrick was 12, Justine 9, Mary 6 and Joseph 3. She
died at the age of 36. At our first meeting she was a vibrant woman who
smiled a lot. Her love for her children was easy to see. Patrick was an
intelligent, sweet boy who often missed school to fetch his mother
medicine or take care of his brother and sisters. When I visited again
five months later, illness had left Caroline emaciated and
unrecognizable — but she still had her sense of humor. She greeted me
like a friend and kept the photos of her family that I gave her under
the pillow on her hospital bed. Patrick was still the head of the
household, juggling school and taking care of his mother and his
siblings. Like many children in Africa he had graduated into adulthood
far earlier than should be necessary for anyone.
For the next
year I was kept informed about Caroline and the children by my
translator. He let me know in December of 1999 that she had been
hospitalized again and was extremely ill. By the time I arrived in
Uganda Caroline had been sent home. She was extremely weak, couldn't
hear very well and was very withdrawn. It seemed that all her strength
was directed at just breathing as she lay in bed in her dark one-room
home. Her children hovered around the doorway, but most often kept their
distance. Patrick, now 13, had started to rebel against all the family
responsibility, leaving Justine to care for the others. I spent a week
at Caroline's home and her doctor told me she thought Caroline's
condition had stabilized. I left Uganda just before Christmas thinking
she would be okay for awhile. I received a fax a few days later telling
me she had died in her sleep on Christmas night. She was buried the next
day.
I felt a confusing sense of loss for someone I'd spent some
time with and whose family I'd become concerned about, but in many ways
knew only through a translator. I'd become more involved with the family
by giving them money to buy food or medicine and trying to arrange for
an orphanage to accept Caroline's children so they could stay together
and go to school. Most African orphans lose out on an education because
of the need to pay school fees. Without Caroline around to care for
them, her children's future is uncertain.
The saddest thing, in
many ways, is that Caroline was one of the lucky ones. Uganda has one of
the strongest commitments to fighting AIDS of any country in Africa. As
a result, Caroline had the AIDS Widows and Orphans Family Support to
provide as much counselling and medical care as it could. But medical
care for AIDS in Africa often involves little more than aspirin, cough
syrup and basic antibiotics. Not very powerful weapons against a virus
that is wiping out an entire generation in Africa — and leaving another
generation orphaned.
Organizations working with people with AIDS
in Uganda:
AIDS Widows and Orphans Family Support (AWOFS)
P.O. Box 7146 Kampala, Uganda Tel: 256 41 267 012 ext. 179
Fax: 256 41 267 870
The AIDS Support Organization (TASO)
P.O. Box 10443 Kampala, Uganda Tel: 256 41 567 637 Fax:
256 41 566 702
For more information or contributions, please
contact them directly
A Photo Essay by Radhika Chalasani - SIPA
