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Kathmandu Thursday January 18, 2001 Magh 05, 2057.
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Why
must the good die young?
By Suman Pradhan
KATHMANDU - It was on a clear crisp day last
July when a group of South Asian journalists, who had just attended the World AIDS
Conference in Durban, huddled into a modern two-story house in one of the back alleys of
Johannesburg, South Africa’s largest and most modern city.
Inside a large room stacked with books and toys
and surrounded by helpful ayahs were a handful of tiny black African children. Alongside
on a sofa lay 11-year-old Nkosi Johnson, his eyes quietly gazing at the scribes.
No doubt, Nkosi had been through this many times
before. As South Africa’s youngest HIV/AIDS activist, his story and his house makes
for good material for journalists visiting Jo’burg from around the world. Not many
may know about Nkosi in our part of the world, but in South Africa he is a household name,
thanks largely for his untiring activism raising awareness about the disease.
Today, Nkosi is fading out physically, though
his spirits remain much the same. A recent news report from Jo’burg said that the
11-year-old boy who made his life story a global public health issue is in the terminal
stages of AIDS. According to the report, Nkosi is in a coma, having suffered seizures
caused by AIDS some weeks ago. But doctors say, the boy is refusing to let go of life.
Born HIV positive to an infected mother, his
plight made headlines almost from the beginning. His homeless hapless mother, who could
ill afford to look after her child, finally left the boy in the care of Gail Johnson, a
middle-aged white woman who today provides shelter for many of the poor HIV infected black
women and their children. Since coming together, Gail and Nkosi have battled prejudices
and succeeded in largely tearing down the many social barriers that make the lives of
HIV-infected people horrible.
It was in this backdrop that the journalists
from South Asia met Nkosi at this foster mom’s home.
He had been in the news recently, effectively
issuing a clarion call for compassion as one of the star speakers at the World AIDS
Conference. He roused the thousands of delegates with a simple straight-forward call:
"You can’t get AIDS by hugging, by kissing or holding hands. We are normal, we
are human beings. We can walk, we can talk."
At his home in Jo’burg, Nkosi was in much
the same fighting spirits. His eloquence belied his age. He effectively told the
journalists why pregnant women should be tested for HIV, lest they infect their yet unborn
babies. In this day and age there are drugs which can cut those transmission rates by more
than half, he said, if only mothers found out ahead of time. Nkosi’s biological
mother never knew that, and ended up giving birth to a baby infected with the virus at
birth.
There aren’t many Nkosis in Nepal yet. But
someday, as the virus spreads to each and every corner of society, affects each and every
social strata, advocates against anti-HIV prejudices will emerge. Many of them will most
likely be infected themselves, and will have experienced first hand how society shuns
them.
Already, there are a few brave individuals here
who have publicly shared their plight with the people, and have begun participating in
advocacy campaigns targeted at raising awareness. They have Nkosi in their souls.
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