As I write this, I am in Accra, Ghana, attending a workshop on “resource mobilisation”. That is NGO-speak for how to raise funds. On my way here, I was scared. But I did not want to share my fears because the training was planned ages ago. Donors are no-nonsense types. If you commit, you better show up. Mind, body, and soul. Or else.
What is freaking me out is, I have learned from introductions that some workshop participants are from Liberia. Does that ring a bell? Liberia. That is where Ebola is wreaking havoc. Guinea Bissau has also reported Ebola cases. Some victims die within 30 minutes of diagnosis. That is frightening.
On my way here, I also had another fear, albeit unrelated to Ebola. I kept thinking that our plane could disappear like the Malaysian Airlines’ flight. My fellow passengers seemed unperturbed. Or they were just pretending. Can someone explain to me how, in 2014, with all this technology, an object the size of a skyscraper can vanish just like that? I cannot begin to imagine the agony and anguish the families of those who were on that plane have to endure, with no definite answers coming their way.
I told people in a group therapy session the other day that if I were asked to pick another disease to live with for the rest of my life, I would stick with HIV, the devil I know, stigma and discrimination notwithstanding, and continue living positively ever after.
That is because, although HIV is deadly and could be fatal, it does not directly cause death. What causes death are opportunistic infections (OIs) due to compromised immunity. Most of these OIs have a cure. That is why you can live with HIV as long as you can keep yourself healthy and manage, as much as possible, any OIs. I think it is this that makes it difficult for a doctor to certify that one actually died of HIV.
Right now, my biggest worry is Ebola. Not that I “favour” any OI,but the only OI I would not want near me is Ebola. So much for knowing that many viral diseases are incurable.
At the workshop, I do not know exactly what precautions to take. What not to touch. What not to eat to avoid the risk of contracting another virus. Also, I do not know what to say to fellow participants from the affected countries. I do not want to come off as being stigmatising. With such issues, it is a thin line between straight-shooting and slurring.
All through my stay and travel, I am praying inwardly. The twin scares have brought out the prayer warrior in me… “Dear God, You know I already have this BIG one. The world has been worried stiff, including the UN Assembly, which has held a special session to handle it. Please, let me not ever contract this one. It keeps even the international media awake. Maybe because of their own fears, or in good faith, or to keep us informed.
“And, Lord, I know you control the skies. Please God, never allow the plane I’m travelling in to disappear because You and I have a covenant: When it is my time, You will give me notice to put my house in order before I go to rest.
“Not only that, God. I want to see Baraka’s and Gabriel’s offspring. You promised me that You will establish me and nothing can come against Your plans. Not a missing plane. Not the Ebola virus. And certainly not the HI virus that has been lodged in me for almost 30 years now.”
The workshop has to go on, regardless.
For the folks who have loved ones on the missing Malaysian plane, my heart and prayers go out to you. These are not faceless statistics. They are irreplaceable. May God grant you peace and closure. He has the answers that no black box could ever possess.
As for Ebola, while I will do everything possible to be millions of miles away from affected areas, I pray for the infected and affected. It is easy to say that I understand what they are going through. I do not. I cannot. May God heal our continent from all her woes.
This is the diary of Asunta Wagura, a mother-of-five who tested HIV-positive 26 years ago. She is the executive director of the Kenya Network of Women with Aids (KENWA).
Email: asuntawagura@hotmail.com
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