Sunday, 28 November 2010

How is Your Life?

“Do what you like, but like what you do,” dear old dad used to say.
I contemplated those words today as I walked the streets of Kampala. What if you did what you did because you had to? Suppose you didn’t have a choice?
No way out.
One of my housemates at Mengo Hospital, Kelly, also from Victoria and myself came across a young boy lying face down on the street. He was sleeping in the shade. On the cement. In bare feet.
We’d seen him there the day before. Hand out. Looking for money. As we pass by Kelly invokes an earlier conversation we’d had around poverty. The issue of HIV amongst the less serving.  The high incidence of the incurable disease amongst the poor.
Together we theorize the way out of the HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa is to end poverty. But how? Africa’s not the only continent with poverty issues.
As we scurry past him Kelly remarks if she had Abbey, the leader of the African Hearts’ contact information – she could of given it to him. Abbey has assisted many young boys leave the streets and find hope and family for their future with the help of music.
Good idea I say. I totally agree. To show him a new path. To find a new road to travel on. One without a hill or any speed bumps.
I’ve been contemplating the income generating ideas HIV mothers have grabbed onto. Basket and mat weaving is one. Beads for necklaces another. Sewing up clothing and bags.
Why can’t Africa become the next China for manufacturing? Give somewhere for this young population to grow into.
Next week I travel to Bwera to help out with PODA (Partnership for Development Association). They’re building a school.
I have heard from Natalie and Peter that one of their plans is to build an area where the women and girls can hang up their laundry. Because when the women menstruate they can’t go to school. They don’t have access to the sanitary napkins and tampons as such as we do in the developed countries. So they wanted to make sure they had an area private where they could hang their laundry. Without shame.
Since my son was born, I’ve been using Luna Pads during my cycle. To cut down on garbage and they’re recyclable.
I show one to Natalie. She asks if I can bring it to Bwera so the women can make a pattern.
No problem I think to myself. How easy it would be for them to make them. No more missing school. A possible income generating project?
Perhaps. But more importantly. A road for opportunity. So when one asks “How is your life?”
The reply will be, “Perfect.”

Saturday, 27 November 2010

Uganda Now

Not afraid to head down to the store and outside the gates of Mengo Hospital anymore. Especially at night. I’ve gotten used to crossing the street. The biggest challenge. Non-stop matatus and boda-bodas (motorcycles for hire).
Felt overwhelmed in the beginning. Plus I was told a lot of stories before I left Canada. Around situations of trust. Begging. Misuse of boundaries.
It’s been three weeks and I am grateful for all the people I have met. Two women smile and laugh with me as I pass by. I’m good at the “How are you?” when I make eye contact.
“I love your dress,” they say as I walk by.
Greetings exchanged with the warmth of a smile. I utter weebale (pronounce whey-baa-ley which is thank you in Lugandan). They chuckle.
Then there’s Joseph. Our man in the know for the freshest pineapple and the most perfect mini-bananas, avocados, papayas, tomatoes, etc. His little vegetable and fruit cart sports a mini-light at night. It’s dusk and dark just after 6:30 p.m. here. I gather my goods with thanks and pass him his money.
As I’m dashing back to Mengo Hospital with two bags and a dry-sack of groceries all of a sudden I hear, “My friend, my friend!”
It’s Joseph with a beautifully ripe avocado in his hand.
“This is for Jennifer.”
He clutches my arm for a shake. I give him a hug.
Jennifer is my roommate who adores conversations with the locals. He’s taken a shine to her. Jennifer had stayed behind tonight.
Sure I see children begging in downtown Kampala. The odd adult. If I ask someone if I can take their picture, once I have been told I need to pay. I’m sure everyone could use an extra buck.
No different then back home though.
That’s Uganda for me today.
Uganda now.

Friday, 26 November 2010

Uganda Wishes – HIV Free Generation?

They put on brave faces.
“Why do you think you need to test for HIV?” says Mengo Hospital’s, Tahya, Coordinator for Prevention of Mother To Child Transmission.
The women are pregnant. There is 30 of them sitting in plastic chairs in what’d we’d call an alcove between two buildings. It’s their education room in the open air. Rows of chairs meet the rainwater drains. To walk to the front is to duck the open windows.
“It’s important to test when they are pregnant. There are two lives,” says the only man in the room. He sits at the back.
Know your HIV status. Should be mandatory here in Uganda. According to the latest news reports, up to 7% of the population are positive.
But the problem is disclosure. While a woman may learn her status is positive, she likely won’t tell her husband or sexual partner. For fear of abandonment. In most cases, they have no way other then their husband to support themselves.
Many of the women are also ‘side dishes’ I hear. Unmarried but in a sexual relationship with a man who is.
If a woman is working here in Uganda they receive one month’s maternity leave for the birth of their child. That’s it.
“The reason is to protect her baby. So she can live longer and see her baby grow up,” Tahya adds.
“How can you tell if someone has HIV?” she then asks.
Tahya stands proudly in front of the women and the one man. She sparks laughter amongst them. One by one she drills them on what they know. Then she tells them what they should know.
Adding awareness of the prevention of Malaria during pregnancy. Noting that a bout of Malaria can weaken the placenta and affect the baby. Prevention is possible, through drugs taken twice. Which they have to pay for. 
Should a women test positive today, medication is available and can be taken to prevent the child from being born HIV.
Still, to stop the spread the problem is disclosure.
Income generating education once formed part of the Antenatal ward’s mandate. But the funding was cut a year ago.
When a woman is self-sustaining she may not fear telling her husband her status. And not be afraid he will leave.
Later I ask Tahya for her wish for Uganda.
“To have a HIV free generation. So people can lead the best of their lives,” she answers.
"For the world?" I ask. "How about for the world?"
“Unity,” she replies. “For people to be together. So everyone feels for one another. Everyone has sympathy. Everyone needs equal opportunity.”
I sit with Tahya when she reveals the test results. One woman slinks into the room in shame. In fear. Scared. I feel her anxiety. Turns out she is negative, today. She bursts into tears. But is reminded, she needs to come back in three months and be tested again. Along with her husband or partner.
Abortions are illegal in Uganda, except on medical grounds. Tahya emphasizes how some women can make blind decisions. Part of her job is to try to wake them up.
“The women they really need us,” she says. “We give them the courage to go on.”
But she tells me, sometimes it’s interesting and sometimes it can be painful.
“Our role is to give them the right information,” Tahya states.
And hope that they come.
“The HIV free generation begins with me,” Tahya concludes with a smile.

Thursday, 25 November 2010

Uganda Wishes - The Flip Side

Needed to get out of Kampala for a bit. My room mate at Mengo Hospital, Jennifer and I took a bus trip to see the Murchison Falls.
Once outside Kampala you get a feel for Uganda. For Africa. Lush green countryside with intermittent cement or brick homes. Palm trees. Smooth roads. Termite mounds. No forests. Long grasses. She breaths. Police checkpoints.
I leave my computer behind.
Roadside markets. Vegetables. Tomatoes piled in pyramids. They make do with what they have. No dwelling on what they don’t have. Clearly there is acceptance for what is.
Further away, rolling hills. Cows lie down on the side of the road. Goats eat tethered up. Cell phone towers stand up. Wells pump water into yellow Jerry cans. Children line up and wait. I ask myself at one point. Have I been here before? Maybe in another life?
Bananas are everywhere. Bundles of green bananas laden bicycles. It’s amazing what can be carried.
Garbage is burned. Smouldering plastics.
Walking roadside I see many. Where are they going? No one speaks.  A young girl in a purple dress waves as we drive by. Does she know us?
You feel the country. I see Africa now. Huts crop up as we get deeper. Clay round huts with straw roofs. Children standing naked at the door. Bright coloured laundry hangs outside.
Out of nowhere “God is Great” is painted onto a roadside building.
Corn grows in front yards. More traffic police. Today my family seems a world away.
Bicycles lean on kickstands at the side of the road - alone.
Boda-bodas are washed in streams. Men piss freely into the ditches. 
These are only my casual observations.
Women laden heavy on their heads move to the side for car horns. Horns honk a lot. No one gives you the finger.
Soon we see baboons. Slowly they cross the road. A red road. One road - two tire treads. Red dust. Oncoming drivers flick their lights to say hello. No police now.
We’ve reached a wildlife refuge.
It’s a poem of nature.
This is my respect for Uganda. Protection of their wildlife.
We look beyond ourselves when we come to Africa. You see the outside then when you spend time you get in on the inside. With a naked eye.
We roam Murchison Falls. I ask our guide for his wish for Uganda today.

Discipline, stamina, knowledge, skills for social and economic transformation (shirt back).
“To stay in peace,” he says. “Especially with the politics of Uganda. Peace forever. Not to keep grumbling for leadership. The tourism industry needs it to be a peaceful country.”
His answer is the same for his wish for the world.
“Peace.”
We’re dropped off to the Red Chilli Rest Area where we’ll be camped out in tents. All of a sudden the full orange moon appears. Like magic. Round, just like the world.
Only love will heal the wounded.
Only love will heal this world.
Only love.
Here is the other side of Africa.







Saturday, 20 November 2010

Who are We?

Please note: I'll be out of Internet range for the next four days. 
Look forward to posting when I return.

“Ugandans need to stop having babies.”
I hear this from a doctor in the AIDS clinic at Mengo Hospital. After I was told a patient may have to wait all day for treatment when their file is lost. Having spent a day in record keeping we Mzungus (non-African person) have grand ideas for speeding up the process of record keeping. But will it really help?
According to the doctor, Uganda has the highest fertility rate. Average 6.7.
Only two women a month come into the Mengo Hospital AIDS clinic for IUD’s. There’s 4,300 active files. 2,100 of which are on medication for HIV/AIDS. I read in today’s headlines, regardless of the education it’s on the rise. What’s wrong with this picture?
Throughout the day I smell something electrical burning. I’m reminded it’s the incinerator burning toxic waste. Plastics. Garbage.
We at Jjaajja Gwen’s Guesthouse (there’s seven of us) decide to seek a dinner out and jump into a special hire (taxi). There’s a jam. We wait. The roads are like washed up river beds. Full of potholes. Nothing’s flat. The traffic police stand on a street corner talking on a cellular phone. No direction. There are no traffic lights. Not a single stop sign. Roundabouts. Like head butting, no one gives way. We wait. There are inches between us and the next car. I sit and trust. The boda-bodas squeeze through. Where is everyone going? Pedestrians have no right of way. There are no sidewalks. Quickly they squeeze through or scurry along side. Horns honk. It’s utter chaos.
With the windows down you smell diesel. Smog. When you get home you need a shower.
“Another grimy day in Africa,” reflects M.C.
We have so much in Canada to what we see in Kampala.
“Is it fixable?” Martha asks.
“What do you mean, Africa? Uganda?” I say.
We read about 200 female circumcisions planned for next month. Here in Uganda.
The local paper said the law banning circumcisions was passed in April.
We talk about the dysfunction. The big picture.
“I have a strong belief in the human spirit,” reflects M.C.
The women here dress impeccably. Their hair is beautiful. Their smiles are bright. The vegetation and foliage is full of colour. The climate is comfortable. The pace, except for the traffic is calm, tranquil, relaxed.
I can see what I think needs to be fixed. Then I surmise it’s not up to me to say or to judge. It’s up to Africa to rebuild Africa. Us Mzungus need only pass through.
We are only visitors.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

Uganda Wishes – Lab Speak



Doesn’t bother me the sight of a needle and getting blood withdrawn. So I was ok to help out in the Lab at the AIDS clinic at Mengo Hospital. Christopher is in charge. I helped him write down patient files and transfer information from one place to another. I was told it was a slow day. He handled it with ease.
I recall getting blood not long before I left Canada. In Canada we have a fancy seat with flat arm rests. One for each arm. At Mengo there is a plastic outdoor garden chair.
Patients are asked to roll up a sleeve. Then for the turn-key a latex plastic glove is wrapped around the arm. The disinfectant comes from a bottle without a spout that he has to tip upside down. There’s a waste box separate to other waste for the needles.
HIV tests are done on the spot. Of the ten that day, seven were positive. One a teenage boy.
I asked Christopher if the numbers are decreasing.
HIV is quite expensive,” he said. Adding, he didn’t feel things were improving very fast. Because those infected often fail to tell their partners and go out and taint others.
This made me sad. I had hoped differently.
So I asked him what his wish was for Uganda.
“To have a better life without HIV.”
He had to take some sputum samples from TB patients. Many with HIV also become infected with TB.
Then Marisa came for her blood test. Her mother went first. When an HIV person is diagnosed their CD4 levels are monitored. Marisa started screaming even before the needle came out. She’s three and a half years old. I took her baby brother in my arms and tried to take her mind off things with the only doll like object in the room. Not a chance. After a patient five minutes of screams the blood came out. Didn’t make her happy. Up came all the papaya she’d eaten before she’d arrived.
I told her she was a brave girl.
I asked Christopher another question. This one his wish for the world. He responded with really? You want to know?
Yes, yes I said.
“We need a peaceful life. Without fear of terror,” he said. “Wars have caused a lot of problem. What we put up today, is destroyed tomorrow. We keep on regressing.”
So true I thought. So true.
Yet on this day there was hope. The HIV patients that come to the clinic have it. They have the medication.
Here at Mengo, while they wait for their appointments a nurse speaks with a white board. There is education. The spread of knowledge. To pass on.
It’s a good thing there is an AIDS clinic at Mengo Hospital.
It’s a good thing the people come. 169 by 2 p.m. today.
Who knows how many more tomorrow…

Wednesday, 17 November 2010

Uganda Wishes - Touching Hearts


Music is the international language.
Even though it’s 10:30 at night here in Uganda it sounds like the dancing just began. The beat is steady. It flows. Very alive. Happy.
There’s three of us around the table. Writing. Blogging. Every once in a while someone sways to the beat. I’m tempted to go outside and find the source.
Took me back to earlier in the day. Met a young Ugandan with a guitar. And a soul to light up a room. Shelley who hails from the Yukon but has been studying in Victoria, BC brought him to our guest house at Mengo Hospital. She’s spent the last three months in Uganda. The village he lives in is a seven hour bus ride from Kampala. He’d come with friends, including Shelley to record some songs.
At 23 years-old his command of the English language - excellent. His compassion for humanity - incredible. Ideology for the world - exceptional. Passion for life - outstanding.
I was honoured to be in his company.
He played us a song. War Lords. I asked him what his wish was for Uganda today.
“I wish that all Ugandans participated in developing Uganda without any negative feelings… I wish in Uganda we were all working for each other, including the leaders.”
Then I asked what his wish was for the world.
“… we can create our own heaven on this round world if we are able to understand that human beings whether in trouble or in happiness, they’re all important.”
A housemate Jennifer from Toronto asked him to play another song. He strummed and sung Human Like You. She’d just finished reading Ishmael Beah's, A Long Way Gone.
She confessed the lyrics in his song dampened her eyes. When she got up to say goodbye her words to him were, “Thank you for touching my heart.”
I was so moved by his reply.
“Thank you for having me here. It’s your beautiful hearts that make it a home.”

Monday, 15 November 2010

Still Life

Dysfunction and hope
Despair yet calm
Relaxed but awake
The darkness brings song.
A stranger to the faces
The mzunga walks free
Alive and alone
But fearless are we?
The strange land beckons
Our origin lays claim
At home to dance
Our spirit speaks liberty!
The world ignites
A battle ensues
The HIV sparks doom
Now a sweet day breaks
The birds sing along
With help awaits
Not before long


The wise know how
Some deny all that is known
Others captivate the love
To the future's unknowns.




Sunday, 14 November 2010

That One

Martha with baby Watson after Baptism
Loving them is more important then giving money. That’s what I heard “Dr. Jim” say.
Jjaajja (grandmother) Hilda was illustrating the generosity of the Ugandan youth today. She’d been helped above and beyond her expectations one day by a young Ugandan whom she had only just met. When she had asked if she could give the young person money he said no. He’d recently lost his Jjaajja and was honoured to be with her.
Today we helped the Sanyu Babies Home deliver 19 orphans to church to receive their baptism. It was a scramble. There were seven of us from Mengo Hospital that came to volunteer. We each took one child. Others who came to help did the same.
Once at the church we were ushered into waiting in the Sunday School room. Later we made our way to the church for the baptism.
I had to ask who I was holding. He was Jeremiah.
There was a list of the children. Intermittently I would hear,
“Now that one.”
One by one we went up to meet the priest.
“You are the mother, you are the father, you are the everything to these children,” he said.
When I leave Uganda I thought to myself, will I ever see Jeremiah again?
The service concluded and the skies opened up. Rain dripped through the church ceiling and gushed through open windows. Thunder shook the air waves. None of the children cried. They all had love.
Back at Sanyu, housemate Martha (also from Victoria, BC) and I sat outside. Our feeding and changing chores done for the day. We met Sanyu’s plumber who offered us each a soda.
Martha has been spending a lot of time at Sanyu. Somewhere in the conversation I heard her say, “Babies are the future of the country.”
I reflected on what the priest had said earlier.
“We have to show them the way.”



Saturday, 13 November 2010

Uganda Wishes – Eye Talk

Take some rubbish and turn it into something useful. Empower an assortment of individuals by producing individual income generating projects. Protect the environment at the same time. And voila! You have the Post Test (HIV) Club at Mengo Hospital’s AIDS clinic.
They meet once a month. A few travel as much as an hour. All of them living with HIV. Some in fear. Others with rejection. Some in hiding.
I listened to their song, then their prayer. Then I said a prayer for hope.
The vision for the program is to help people know their status and to be responsible in their homes. To get a little money and learn to live positively and to prevent others from becoming infected. Then to go out to other communities and share their knowledge.

The first thing I saw as I walked in was two bags of straws. Then hands busy at work, weaving the straws.
I haven’t seen recycling depots in Uganda. I was told there are bottle depots. Glass bottles are about the only thing that get recycled. Everything else gets burned. The straws are collected at the bottle depots. (When you are given a soda in a restaurant or cafe you generally don’t get a glass. You get a straw.)
The straws are washed and sterilized and laid out to dry in the sun before being flattened for use in weaving.
The company Straw Bags finishes the product and sells them.



It thrilled me to bits to see the busyness of these men and women. They would later watch and learn how to make jam. Papaya, lemon and cinnamon. Afterward tomato sauce.
I was introduced. I could see joy in their eyes. They were working. I then asked them to tell me their wish for Uganda.
One woman wished in time, the research and medicine would find a cure for HIV/AIDS and they would be cured. Another wished as patients that they could save other people from getting the disease.
One other explained, “Before AIDS was bewitched. The disease is not bewitched anymore. It’s opened people’s eyes. It is real. It is not a bewitched disease anymore.”
I asked for their wish for the world. Two replied with similar answers. That the world would not stop helping with the drugs. Many are fearful they may not always have access to the drugs.
Martha, a Mengo staff person made sure I included her message.
“My wish is that Africa will get out of poverty and be a good country to live in!”
Another woman then asked to be heard. She said she was grateful for the drugs that would help them to live so they could raise their children.
I can see it in their eyes. If their eyes could talk, what would they say?
There is hope in Africa. 

Friday, 12 November 2010

Uganda Wishes - Peace, Happy and 2015

This is Happy!
“Don’t be too attached to the outcome, it may not be what you expect,” said Kelly, one of my housemates during a lunch break.
We were talking about what we wanted to do for Friends of Mengo Canada. My mind wondered over to what I hoped to accomplish during my six weeks here.
“We’re not here to fulfill our dreams,” she added looking at me sternly.
Just then we both jumped up to head down to the AIDS clinic.
I’d spent a bit of the morning speaking with the Administrator at Sanyu Babies Home. Then took a crack at feeding Francis. A young orphan with Cerebral Palsy. He never cried. But awkwardly bent backwards when the sit-up position became too uncomfortable. Loud noises seem to startle him. Yet he found humour in the dilly dally's that draped over his bed.
My intentions here in Uganda are to document the hope. What makes people smile? What gives them joy? What keeps them going in the face of such adversity?
As we walked towards the clinic, we swarmed Dr. Edith on her way to her office. Dr. Edith is in charge of the AIDS clinic at Mengo
As soon as she sat down Kelly drilled her on her staff’s needs today then left the room. The list was small, yet significant:
  • Soap dispensers
  • A Nitrous Oxide Cylinder
  • A fan for the staff room
  • Portable telephones
  • A paved area for the TB tent outside
  • An upright bookcase with a lock
It wasn’t news to Dr. Edith what I was here to do. She asked me about my experience helping out in triage. Essentially weighing in and recording HIV/AIDS patients. Then invited me to come for tomorrow’s session. The Post (HIV testing) Club. I would be permitted to talk to patients one on one.
A steady stream of doctors with patients and nurses came in to speak with her while I sat. Her desk was full of paperwork. A small laptop to her right. A leftover sandwich with saran wrap. Boxes of supplies along the floor to the wall.
She asked me where else I was going. I told her next week it was the lab and records.
In her Ugandan tone she looked at me seriously and asked me bluntly. If I could see how things can be made better, or if I could think of ways to improve efficiency to make sure I let her know.
We’re on the outside looking in after all. Strangers in a strange land. It’s all new to me.
I knew her time was sparse so I took the opportunity to ask her what her wish is today for Uganda and for her people.
“It may come true or not. My wish is for by 2015 we move from this clinic to a cure. Patients are cured and discharged.”
A woman clearly ill with HIV/AIDS sat alone at reception. Her skin in a rash. Face gaunt. Pain struck her eyes as she looked on.
“The battle looses meaning when you keep doing this,” Dr. Edith added.
I digested her wish and pictured 2015. Instead of the steady stream of patients travelling to Mengo with their plastic bags and medicine containers, they were living their lives the way they should. Like Happy (pictured above) who I met on the way to Sanyu one morning. Freely running around in a courtyard. Living up to her name.
What is your wish for the world? I then asked.
“Peace,” she stated.
Then she told me her brother is in Somalia fighting in the army. The cellular phone was held up. The tears filled in.
Someone else came into the office to ask for help. 
I then thanked her for her time and excused myself for the day.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

What Some Say


One mode of transportation to the AIDS Clinic
Got a chuckle tonight sitting down in Maggies bar with an administrator for Mengo Hospital. We were talking about the state of the roads in Kampala. Referring to the onslaught of potholes. His story was a knee slapper. 
He pointed his hand in one direction attempting to describe the location. Then he stated its claim to fame.
“The pothole is so big it has fish in it!” he said adding, “There is no shame.”
Made me think. I saw a word today that triggered the right association for me around the dogma associated with HIV/AIDS. That word was stigma.
According to Dr. Watiti Stephan’s book, HIV/AIDS 100 Commonly Asked Questions, “Stigma is the fuel that spreads HIV and makes it so difficult to fight it.”
Nowadays, we know more. In Africa it is understood by many that HIV/AIDS is preventable. Also, that it’s incurable. And now that it is manageable. Providing the patient has access.
Here’s how. Antiretroviral drugs or ARV's for short.
But the test has to come first. Whether they’re feeling well or not. To know your HIV status is to know your CD4 count.
Both women I worked with today at the Mengo Hospital AIDS clinic were HIV positive. Both enrolled in the ARV's program. As one put it. Once you start on the drugs. You’re on them for life.
However, there’s some hope in prolonging the start of the prescription. Something Friends of Mengo have funded and continue to research the benefits. First there was a selenium study. Then a nutritional supplement study with a product known as e'Pap (produced in South Africa).
I asked one of the women what e'Pap meant to her.
“It’s an immune booster,” she said. Adding, “You have to qualify to receive it.”
Depending on the CD4 count. When the CD4 count goes below a certain number, ARV treatment is required. However, some patients have delayed the consumption of ARV's (there are many known side-effects) by as much as a year by taking the e'Pap. Essentially a composition of maze, soya and 28 different minerals and vitamins proven to boost the immune system and provide more nutrition then what’s available in the consumption of their daily food .
Many HIV/AIDS patients can also succumb to TB. In addition to their drug treatment at Mengo Hospital, they also receive e'Pap.
We’d reached 146 in the weigh-ins already today. Part of this morning’s job for me. Helping to record the patients weight in their files. It wasn’t yet noon.
Many of the patients waiting in the clinic were here to re-fill their drug prescriptions. Some for CD4 blood tests. Others for cervical cancer screenings. Still others for a doctor’s assistance.
While they waited a nurse stood up with a white board educating them on this and that.
A young girl ran around with her shoes off. Playfully chewing on a cob of corn. Her mother sitting down and cradling an infant.
Who else qualifies for e'Pap I asked?
“Normally young kids like that,” she said pointing to that young girl. Because they are growing. And not yet on the ARV's.”
Many HIV positive at birth.
Later in the day I conferred with "Dr. Jim" He gave me a copy of the study Nutritional Supplements Can Delay the Progression of AIDS in HIV-Infected Patients: Results from a Double-Blinded, Clinical Trial at Mengo Hospital, Kampala, Uganda.
It’s what some may say. There is no cure for HIV/AIDS. But there is hope in prolonging the life of this generation.