Many of us have travelled by airplane to other continents. Remember the excited faces of the travellers in the departure lounge? Their bags packed with clothes for a different season and precious gifts, in anticipation of a long-awaited reunion with their loved ones.
Remember how you felt when you waited impatiently for a daughter, grandparent, boyfriend to return home after a prolonged separation and a trans-continental journey? That feeling of longing and wishing that time would pass quickly so that you could be together again, just one more sleep.
Imagine the inside of an Airbus. Think of the eight seats that make up each of the seventy six rows, each seat being filled by one of those six hundred pilgrims, greeting their fellow passengers and settling in for a long journey. Now think of three such airbuses all taking off at the same time. Fast forward…
Now, think of the effects of the shocking news when the headlines of the following morning’s newspapers read: “3 Airbuses Collide Over Atlantic Ocean – No Survivors”! Can you begin to think of the world’s response to such an awful tragedy (Remember 9/11)? Is it possible even to imagine that kind of impact on all the families and loved ones, friends, employers and others connected directly and indirectly to each one of those deceased passengers? An instant that changes the lives of thousands of people in the world. Future plans evaporated, regrets of unspoken words and messages… How do all of the people begin to pick up the pieces and continue with their lives?
IN SOUTH AFRICA THREE AIRBUSES COLLIDE EVERY DAY.
The same number of people who would board those three airbuses, die of AIDS related illnesses each day in our beloved country. Their relatives and friends grieve and mourn and feel the same emotions as those who lost an airbus crash victim, the only difference is NOBODY listens to the rhetoric anymore.
I noticed far more World AIDS Day media coverage for this year. Wherever I’ve recently travelled I’ve seen posters, billboards, vendors with red ribbons and tshirts printed with profound messages. All of the local and national newspapers, radio and television stations are sending out the same messages: “Safe sex”, “Be responsible”, “Condomise”. The information continues to be churned out in music festivals, stage plays and books.
This morning South Africa was asked to stop everything at midday and observe a moment’s silence. The People’s Cathedral’s bells pealed in the bosom of Cape Town. Communities were bused into the City to listen to our political, religious and business leaders who read their well-articulated speeches with care. Civil Society organisations spent donor funds on newly designed tshirts and brightly coloured pamphlets displaying AIDS awareness slogans. NGOs lit candles decorated with red ribbons.
SO WHAT?
Who sees the sadness in the eyes of the old woman who receives a state pension after forty years of hard labour and expected her children to take care of her in twilight years, instead her children have passed away from an illness she doesn’t understand and she is left to care for her ten grandchildren on R800 per month?
Who hears the stories of the caregivers, those who have been trained to nurture the sick in their communities, or to take care of the children orphaned by HIV and AIDS? They volunteer their services and time, the lucky ones receive a small stipend in return for their travelling costs or food supplies. The caregivers observe the steady demise of their clients. Who nurtures or takes care of them?
Who touches the hearts and warm bodies of those babies born to parents who will not live long enough to enjoy raising them and watch them take their first steps, speak their first words, hold their first spoonful of food? The number of children orphaned by HIV and AIDS continues to increase each year. Have we as a nation begun to think of the generations of orphans we are raising and what the future effects may be?
Who tastes the metallic sensation in the mouth of an infected person who fears the face of death alone, while he breaks into a cold sweat in the dark of the night and screams for mercy or to be released from the undignified state of being rejected and lonely?
Who smells the power of the money that could be used wisely for Anti-Retroviral drugs and other treatments, education and the eradication of poverty? The developed countries of the world claim that they have donated billions of Dollars to Africa for this purpose. Yet we are nowhere near achieving the Millenium Development Goals. Who smells a rat?
Marlene Whitehead
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