EDITORIALS

Hello, my name is Hellen. I’m 33 years old and live in the city of Eldoret, Kenya. As a child I lived in the countryside in an ancestral home. My father was a polygamist, so I had two mothers. My biological mother had seven children of which I was the oldest and my step mother had eight children. There was often conflict between them, and I’d be caught in the middle. Each of my mothers had a grass hut. Between their huts was a round hut for the chickens where the cooking took place. All the children slept in this hut on papyrus mats. We were very poor, my father wasn’t lucky enough to own an animal, not even a goat.

It's good to have a girl as she can bring money or cattle to the family when she marries. Being the first born, I felt I never had a childhood. I started working from the age of five fetching firewood, lighting the firewood, and cooking meals. I had to make sure that when my parents weren’t there, everything was safe. Oh my God, I slept hungry for days at a time. Then when we had food, I would sacrifice for my brothers and sisters as I was told to do. I used to run away to my aunt's when things were really hard. I'd just break down. She would let me stay a couple days and then send me back.

From age seven I was sent away to work during school vacation. I’d go live with another family as a source of labor and they would pay my father. Sometimes I would be working in a village and they wouldn’t release me when school started. If they had books for their kids and weren’t home, believe me I would make a fire and read their books. I missed my school friends who loved education, too. They would help me catch up. I finished primary school 2nd in my class in spite of the interruptions.

When I was thirteen my father didn’t want me to take the exam to go on to secondary school as he knew of someone who could marry me. I became rebellious and stayed with a teacher to take the exam. I passed and got my calling letter which I took to a school even though I didn’t have shoes and my clothes were tattered. With the help of a headmaster who was impressed with my desire to learn, I was helped with school fees for disadvantaged children. I was so happy as people told me that education would change my life. At school I had to weed the garden, wash socks and skirts for other students, and brush their shoes. I used to sit down and say “this is going to end someday.”

Then things became worse when I was about 16, ready to enter Form 3. The school heads changed and my bursary wasn’t being paid any more. My mothers said I had enough education and that I should get married and have children. Then I met a man who was six years older than me. He said if I would agree to marry him, he would pay my school fees to go to Form 3 and Form 4. Then we’d get married, and he’d pay for my college, too. This seemed perfect.

When I had to meet up with him to get my Form 4 fees, I lost my virginity. I did complete Form 4 and gave birth to a little girl, but a child should not raise a child. You should marry because you love, but I married this man because he would pay for my college. I didn’t know anything about contraceptives, and had to do whatever he wanted. Culturally it was acceptable for him to have sexual relationships with other women. I didn’t say anything. Then I gave birth to my boy. At that time I was already infected with HIV but didn’t know it.

I became sick with tropical meningitis and my pastor took me to the hospital where I learned I was HIV+. I had heard about HIV on the radio but thought it just in big cities like Nairobi and didn’t understand how it was transmitted. I thought God would protect me. When I learned I had HIV it was the first time I wasn’t sure my dreams of college would come true. My husband came to the hospital and I confronted him. I had seen him taking medicine and now I knew he was HIV+. He left the hospital and I never saw him again.

Around me I kept seeing people dying but no one would talk about why they were dying. I had a woman counselor who confided she was HIV+ and taught me how to live with HIV. She was the first mother figure who really cared about me. Although I had only known about herbal medicines, the doctor told me I had to take the HIV medication every day for the rest of my life. I had hospital bills so couldn’t leave the hospital until a professor stopped in and paid them for me.

The next years were very difficult. My younger sister then decided to take care of my children for a couple years so I could go to school. Before long my sister found out she was HIV+. She had five kids and so I decided to have her kids and my kids tested. Mine were not HIV+ but three of my sister’s children were. As my father had disowned me, my sister didn’t want me to tell any family members. She stopped taking her meds, ran away, and wanted to die.

Now I have all seven children. I tell them that I’ve been HIV+ since age 20. I’m taking my meds and going on with my life. I decided that to support all these children I had to go back to school. My classes involve psychology and sociology. I go out to the community clinics to talk to women about HIV. I tell them that they need to go to school and that a woman can choose not to get married. As a single female with HIV I’m seen as being deviant in this very male dominated society. I counsel women on the importance of feeling socially accepted.

I'm writing an autobiography of my life. The name of the book is “You, Too, Can Survive It.”