In Ethiopia, people with AIDS become care providers
Rachel B. Miller Moreland Songs of praise to God and joyful ululations filled the room during a recent graduation ceremony here for AIDS home-based care providers. While more than 500 people have completed the 10-day training course offered by the Meserete Kristos Church (MKC) HIV/AIDS Program, this graduating class was different: Nearly all of them are also HIV-positive. Care at home is crucial in a country where some 2.1 million people are living with AIDS and hospital beds and life-extending medicines are sparse. But even family members and friends who have been taught that the HIV virus can't be spread through casual contact often shy away from interaction with people with AIDS, says Dr. Samson Estifanos, former director of the MKC program. They fear the illness and its stigma. "HIV-positive people have less fear," he says. "And this service [as care-givers] also gives them a function in society." The course, supported by MCC, includes training in caring for wounds, massage and mobilizing resources. The program pays HIV-positive care providers 10 birr (about $1.52 Cdn./$1.17 U.S.) for every home visit they make. It's not a lot, but it makes a big difference in the lives of those who often lose or can't find work when employers discover their HIV status. At the graduation ceremony, the group's leader thanked program organizers for the training. Both tears and songs flowed as graduates expressed their gratefulness for a chance to support themselves while helping others. Most of the graduates, who ranged from teenagers to grandparents, have already seen spouses, parents or children die of the disease. Their personal stories illustrate the devastating impact AIDS is having on Ethiopian families and the dilemmas it creates. Bekelech Anito, a mother of four, knew that her husband was not being faithful to her. Terrified that he would get HIV from a prostitute and then give her the virus, she begged church leaders for their permission to divorce. But the church was hesitant to get involved. They knew that Anito wouldn't be able to support herself and her children if she left her husband, and she feared that the children would be mistreated if she left them with her husband. "We didn't give her case proper attention," admits an elder from her church. Anito's husband eventually begged her forgiveness. She cared for him, both at home and in the hospital, until his death from AIDS. Now she is living with the disease and struggling to support her family, including a grandchild she took in when her daughter died in childbirth. Zewdie Negussie, in his late 20s, believes he got AIDS from used needles after he was diagnosed with tuberculosis. A farmer, these days he is too weak to do manual labor. "I'm not bold enough to disclose my status to most people, but they suspect it," he says. "If I try to borrow something from them, they won't give it." Others tell stories of involvement in prostitution and witchcraft before becoming Christians. Not all have found full acceptance within the church because of their HIV status, but they are grateful for those who have shown them God's love. Now it's their turn to return some of that love as they care for others. The program is motivated by Matthew 25, says Dr. Samson. "When you take care of the sick, you are taking care of Christ." Through its Generations at Risk program, MCC supports the MKC HIV/AIDS Program. In addition to training home-based care providers and raising awareness about AIDS prevention across the country, the church offers counseling services, support for orphans, rehabilitative training for vulnerable groups such as prostitutes and street children, local resource centers and support groups for people living with AIDS.
Rachel B. Miller Moreland is a writer/editor for MCC Communications.
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