If I kept it to myself - World YWCA

If I kept it to myself
money I made for transport back to the village
to bring more bananas, and with time and some
little profit, I bought other items like potatoes,
chapattis and fish, enlarging my stock by the
roadside.
Among my regular clients was a taxi driver, who
proposed to me. I accepted, as my business
needed more capital, which he promised to
provide. I thought I had hit the jackpot; my
business would grow, since I had a sponsor. I had
bigger plans, like becoming a businesswoman.
I knew I would soon be able to solve all my
children’s problems and pay for school for my
younger brothers and sisters, who were still in the
village. The little money he gave me attracted me
to him.
In January 2001, after a few months of courtship,
he suggested that we live together. This would
help me save some money to send to the village
to take care of the children’s needs. After two
months of living together, he stopped me from
working, promising to take care of all my needs
and those of my children back in the village. I
didn’t like the idea of stopping work but I had
already committed myself. He hadn’t introduced
himself to my parents, so he didn’t pay any
dowry. He was over 48 years old when we joined
houses. In December 2001, I gave birth to a baby
boy, who is three years and eight months old
now.
My partner’s major worry was that I would get to
know from other people about his HIV positive
status. He had been looking for someone to look
after him during his sick days, which since he had
lived long with the virus, he expected to come.
In March 2002, he fell very ill and was bedridden
for seven months. I became suspicious of
his health. When he went for treatment, I
checked around the house and eventually
found a receipt from an organisation where
they treat HIV positive people. I got so scared
and wondered what to do. I approached one
of my relatives whom I knew was a member
of this organisation. I showed her the receipt
and she confirmed my suspicion. However, she
counselled me and advised me to take things
in a simple manner since it was likely that I was
already infected. When my husband came back,
I couldn’t find the right words to ask him about
his status. I had heard that he was positive from
the neighbours, but I didn’t believe them since
he had looked so healthy. Besides, we lived in
a slum with so many idle people who will say
anything about people.
34
For the seven months while he was bedridden,
life was so trying. We had begun starving
because he no longer worked and the little we
had was taken away by paying his medical bills.
We decided to partition the house, staying in one
room and finding tenants to pay for upkeep. They
sometimes failed to pay but chasing them away
didn’t make much difference, as new occupants
were the same.
The neighbours always gossiped and laughed at
me. No one wanted to visit us since my husband
had Tuberculosis (TB) and it was believed that
TB could be spread to others in your midst. Life
seemed very unrealistic to me. I had less breast
milk due to lack of food and too much work
without rest. I always borrowed things from the
nearby shops and got drugs on credit from the
nearby clinic. We accumulated debts. I didn’t
want my parents to know about my “unknown”
husband’s health.
My mother always sent messages wondering
what had happened to me since I wasn’t