Irene Wangolo was advised to undergo an HIV test during her antenatal visit and to return to the clinic with her husband so they could be counselled on preventing HIV transmission to their unborn baby. But her husband refused to accompany her saying it was not his business and Wangolo never returned to the clinic in Bungokho in eastern Uganda. So she missed all the services, including the prevention of mother-to-child transmission (PMTCT).
A new type of migration is taking place in Zimbabwe. While in the past people crossed the borders into South Africa and Botswana seeking work and fleeing from their repressive circumstances, now a silent migration of HIV-positive children seeking antiretroviral treatment (ART) is taking place.
During every year that ends in an even number, the month of August is a special occasion for young men in Kenya’s Western Province. During this month thousands of boys aged between 10 and 18 undergo male circumcision – something that is seen as an important rite of passage into manhood among their communities. But it is also a time were nearly half the young men circumcised will have to fight for their lives.
The new World Health Organisation (WHO) recommendation that HIV-positive mothers on antiretroviral therapy (ARVs) can exclusively breastfeed their babies for up to twelve months without infecting them has created confusion among HIV-positive mothers in Uganda as information about the new guidelines struggles to reach them.
In the poor, drought-stricken community of Kangcamphalala, AIDS orphan Nomvula Dladla* is in tears. The 17-year-old has been told that her aunt, the only surviving relative she could live with, passed away a few hours ago of an HIV-related illness. And if she had been living anywhere else in the country, it would have made Dladla destitute.
By the time Thandi Khumalo* brought her seven-month-old daughter to the Red Cross Children’s Hospital in Cape Town, help came too late. The infant had developed acute diarrhoea and kwashiorkor, a condition caused by severe protein and calorie deficiency, and died a few days after being admitted.
Eleven-year-old Irene Thembo* lies curled like a foetus on a white wooden bench for outpatients at a clinic in rural Zimbabwe. The orphan, whose parents died of HIV-related illnesses, is terribly sick.
James Banda, 27, is an unemployed youth although he occasionally is hired to act as a bus conductor at Lusaka’s Kulima Tower Bus Station. He may not have a permanent job, but it is easy to find him. Anyone looking for him just has to go to the bus station and ask. Everyone knows who he is. Banda, or ‘ba-Jay’ as people call him, is a young man who commands a lot of respect from his friends – he is a thug for hire.
At a local maternity clinic in one of Bulawayo’s high density suburbs, midwives are at pains to explain to a pregnant 15-year-old girl why she must be tested for HIV before she gives birth.
Affectionately known as Gogo Zondo by the community of Ndvwabangeni in northern Swaziland, Margaret Zondo is a traditional health practitioner who helps treat the sick and delivers babies.
Nine-year-old Nomasonto* had no choice but to switch roles with her mother and care for the HIV-positive woman who gave birth to her. Instead of worrying about homework and going out to play with her friends, Nomasonto’s daily concerns were now a matter of life and death.
As government implements a new HIV/AIDS treatment regimen according to latest world standards, a major grouping of non-governmental organisations are concerned that the high cost of the new medication will mean government will no longer be able provide free treatment to as many people as before.
Diana Banda* is quickly running out of excuses to give her six-year-old son about why he has to take a schedule of drugs every day.
HIV-positive Phiona* (19) had unprotected sex with her best friend and she prays that she did not infect him with the virus. She knew she should not have let it happen but Phiona was too scared to tell him her status, and the teenagers did not have access to condoms.
Thirteen-year-old Jacinta Okello and her fellow primary school classmates call it "doing bad manners". But when you ask her what she knows about sex, she breaks into a shy smile, looks to her feet and giggles.
When Samuel Mwangi’s one-year-old HIV-positive son died five years ago, he thought the death of his child also meant the death of his family’s legacy. "I wept. And to the bottom of my heart, I knew that that was the end of my generation," said HIV-positive Mwangi.
A proud mother, Nonhlanhla Mabuza cuddles her one-day-old baby boy, at the circumcision clinic of Raleigh Fitkin Memorial (RFM) Hospital. A day after delivering her second son, Thabiso Dlamini, the 20-year-old mother is not only beaming because she has just successfully delivered her tiny little tot – her bundle of joy has just undergone male circumcision.
Twelve-year-old Tapuwa Bakare* darts through the traffic as irate motorists hoot at him and the tyres of speeding vehicles screech to a halt to avoid hitting him. Miraculously, the box filled with sweets and chewing gum that he carries does not fall from his grasp.
Even though tuberculosis (TB) is a major cause for illness and mortality in children, South Africa lacks the political will to tackle the disease, health experts say.
Two small boys play quietly on a jungle gym, some distance away from other children. The six-year-old twins, who live at the Masigcine children's centre in Mfuleni township, 35 kilometres out of Cape Town, are severely traumatised from being orphaned at the age of one and have difficulty relating to their peers.
The department of social development hopes government will increase the child support grant based on the outcome of a rigorous nationwide study on the positive effects the grant has on South African society.