Beating the wrong dead horse
When it was reported that Zimbabwe’s HIV prevalence had dropped, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. For years our televisions and radios had been blaring HIV awareness messages ad nauseum, and apparently it had worked. The average Zimbabwean seemed very knowledgeable about HIV, how one could and couldn’t contract the virus, what one could do to protect themselves and condoms could be found in even the most remotely located bottle store. Even at Chiadzwa, before the soldiers, the dogs and the guns, I’m told you could be guaranteed to find four things: cheap alcohol, prostitutes, diamonds and condoms.
We’ve spent some time speaking with young people about HIV and sexuality and I’m beginning to think that there’s another reason why the prevalence is so low. I believe the statistics that are available do not truly reflect the Zimbabwean population. Young Zimbabweans, especially those in the highest risk groups are not getting tested and it’s because they are afraid. Attitudes about what it means to have HIV have not changed since the 80s. Back then having HIV meant it was only a matter of time before you succumbed and died horribly of an opportunistic infection. HIV was shrouded in mystery, like some sort of evil spirit, no one wanted to admit that they so much as knew it existed. This attitude has not changed over the last two decades.
Since the advent of treatments that prevent mother-to-child infections in the 90s, there is an entire generation of Zimbabweans, who are now reaching adulthood who are not addressed by HIV awareness campaigns, and there is nothing is the school curriculum that speaks to their particular set of circumstances. Now reaching young adulthood, this generation of young people has many questions about their status; life and their place in societies that have gone unanswered making life almost un-navigable. Our discussions also reveal that even amongst people living with HIV, and the families that support them, there is a general lack of knowledge about the course of the disease in complement to ARV treatments and proper nutrition. During the discussion we were told a story about a young girl born with HIV whose father refused to let her take her ARVs because she looked healthy. ‘Hasisina chirwere.’ He said. (She’s not sick anymore)
Donor organisations are notorious for being fickle, and for funding programmes and community organisations that meet their agenda at that point in time, which then creates contradictions and gaps in information and in effect reduces the efficacy of the entire communication exercise. There seems to be copious amounts of donor funding going towards patronising and poorly constructed awareness campaigns. How often do people actually pay attention to these? And are they even likely to create behaviour change? It is frustrating that in comparison, very little funding goes towards addressing the gaps in knowledge that have existed for twenty years, a consequence of this being found in the attitudes of health workers in the HIV field, who reportedly are creating stigma around the patients they are supposed to treat. Moreover, there is little or no funding going towards that generation of young people born with HIV that is coming of age today. The campaigns that are in the public space create the wrong impression in the public mind about HIV, that the only means of transmission is through sex, and more recently sexual networking, therefore a young child with HIV must either have had a sugar daddy or been raped. There is no room in this for an alternative narrative, and that is victimisation.