Occasional Kubatana blogger Fungai Machirori recently posted a very interesting comment on a health listserv in response to an online conversation about who should take responsibility for HIV prevention. I kind of thought it was a no-brainer. Individuals should of course. But then again there are men involved and condoms and men in general go together like Mugabe and Democracy.

Here’s Fungai for you:

Ensuring power to every “i” Fungai Machirori

Last year, South Africa developed a remarkable graphic to accompany its World AIDS Day campaign message: a graphic consisting entirely of a myriad letter “i”s that together made up the shape of South Africa’s map.

The tagline that accompanied the graphic read “I am responsible. We are responsible. South Africa is taking responsibility.”

What each of those little “i”s stood for was a South African; an individual taking responsibility for adopting health-promoting behaviours that would ultimately yield the collective national responsibility needed for an effective response to the urgency of HIV and AIDS.

I give this example because I feel it is particularly relevant to the topic at hand – whose responsibility it is to prevent HIV.

I believe that only once every individual is able to identify himself or herself as that “i” with the highest levels of self-efficacy, or confidence in one’s own ability to take responsible action, can we realise a significant change to the emergency that is the HIV and AIDS pandemic.

Building that self-efficacy encompasses creating a range of competences, from the basic ability to understand what HIV and AIDS are, to comprehending the implications of HIV infection or re-infection, as well as the benefits of preventing such infection, all the way to being able to overcome the many barriers that may exist as impediments to positive behaviour change.

Make no mistake, this is no easy process. Because we are all individuals of differing backgrounds and circumstances, our competencies, and the rates at which these can be developed will differ.

What levels of self-efficacy will a 16-year-old girl given to her sister’s widow as a replacement wife (knowing well that her sister died of a long and mysterious illness) have to demand an HIV test even if she knows about the virus and its effects, but is bound, by family tradition, to become this man’s wife without questioning?

What self-efficacy can a baby, still in his mother’s womb, speak of if his mother never receives antenatal services and does not discover her own positive HIV status until after her baby is born and already infected?

How then do we ensure power to every “i”?

A blanket approach to HIV and AIDS programming is definitely not the right way. Insensitive messaging that fails to take into consideration that we are all at different levels of literacy, understanding and openness about the collective and individual impact of the pandemic is more detrimental than helpful as it only achieves the churning out of impersonal, and therefore, inaccessible content.

Some people still just need to hear the basics – what HIV is, how it brings on AIDS, how it is transmitted and how it is prevented.

And messages and programmes for these individuals need to be tailored in an attractive, interactive fashion that eliminates pedagogy by welcoming debate, discussion and personal negotiation.

Also, we need to stop thinking only in conventional formats because quite honestly, far too many of the information-rich booklets and CD-ROMs dished out generously by well-meaning organisations are NOT being read or utilised.

I remember looking on in horror as a neighbour used the pages of an HIV prevention book I had given him to get a fire going in his backyard.

Noticing my anguish, he apologised but told me that there was no other practical use for the book beyond the one he had found.

“Thankfully, I have toilet paper,” he joked.

I went away wondering how many other people might feel this way about Information and Education Communication (IEC) materials that they feel have no resonance with them.

We need to be doing things differently, dynamically and determinedly all the time within an environment that is constantly changing, but at the same time staying very much the same.

Also, we need to think creatively about how to overcome the many socio-cultural and economic barriers to information dissemination and knowledge assimilation; how to jump over those internal walls that cement ideas within people’s minds that saying “not yet” or demanding a condom during sex is taboo and unforgivable; how to ensure that we are catering to communities and societies and individuals at their points of need, and not at the points that we estimate on their behalf; how to be relevant.

In short, how do we ensure that when an individual makes a decision that can have an impact on the state of their health, he or she is fully equipped with the artillery of internalised practical and practicable information?

At the same time as we seek to answer this question, we must focus attention on the dire need to strengthen our HIV service delivery systems to the point where people can access the different prevention, treatment, care and support packages that they require in an efficient, effective and professional(in terms of the health service providers) manner.

Our role as programmers, advocates, researchers and role models is two-fold: firstly, we must take personal responsibility for our own behaviours ensuring that they are positive and health-promoting.

Too many jokes abound about how any workshop that involves HIV programmers and advocates degenerates, after hours, into a ‘sex shop’.

This is the unfortunate badge of embarrassment that many associate our sector with, particularly as it identifies us as obvious hypocrites who subscribe to the mantra, “Do as I say, not as I do.”

Only once we are right in our own ways can we strike a cord with our audiences so that we may pass the mantle of responsibility on to them, to capacitate them to answer emphatically, whenever asked whose responsibility it is to prevent HIV, that indeed it is “i”.

Imagine if we could draw out a map, not just of South Africa, but of every nation in our region from the pledge made by every “i”, every person putting their hand up to say, “I am responsible to prevent HIV”.

This map would certainly mark the beginnings of a new Africa.

Back in 2006 Kubatana featured the art of Josiah Bob Taundi, a Zimbabwean interested in depicting everyday life in our country and how politics affects how we live our lives.

Just recently Josiah launched his own online gallery which we enourage you to visit. See more here.

Josiah describes himself as:

a self-taught artist from a piece of earth called called Zimbabwe, south of Africa. I’m inspired by people in their different circumstances. They could be happy, sad or confused. I love colour. Africa is a land of living colour. But I try to be as true and realistic as possible. I don’t paint nice pictures to solely please the eye of the beholder. My motivation to paint is to communicate an important message. It may social, political or economic. I’m a commentator and encourage debate around real issues affecting the human condition. I paint intensely after long hiatuses.

John Mutumburanzou wrote to Kubatana recently, sharing his views on GNUs, and the new way of doing politics in Africa:

The obsession and deliberate automated habit by contemporary statesman, political brokers and mediators buttressed by multilateral institutions like SADC, AU and the UN to form coalition governments (also erroneously referred to as Unity Government or Government of National Unity) in each and every troubled state in Africa is astonishing and mind boggling to say the least.

Since the formation of the coalition government in Kenya it seems the echoes of the chorus are reverberating throughout Africa.  First, it shows that Africa direly lacks the statesmen of the yesteryears who had the guts and courage to speak out against their fellow African brothers who are fond of abusing power and who trample on citizen rights willy-nilly.

Secondly, the yesteryear authority of such multilateral institutions is fast eroding and lost into abysmal oblivion. Put plainly, their lack of authority gives credence to the assertion that international law is an ass. It is not an understatement that a Chief’s Dare in traditional Africa is better that a club of expensively dressed men and women acting on behalf of and for SADC, AU or UN and more so masquerading as mediators.

There seems to be a sudden irresistible and invigorated rise, on the political horizons of Africa, of a form of system of governance which is fast substituting elections as a way of coming up with and legitimising governments in Africa. The electorate, it seems, do not matter any more in as far as deciding who is to lead them. Leaders of troubled and so called hot spots in Africa are chosen, on behalf of and for the electorate in those respective states, in posh hotels and flamboyant mansions, more often than not, situated miles away from the respective states and the majority of the citizenry.

Indeed, coalition governments brought about through this political methodology are tantamount to legitimised coups in modern 21st century Africa. The coalition governments formed in Kenya, Zimbabwe, Madagascar and more to come are in the political intensive care unit. The lack of democratic culture and egregious intolerance in modern African society continues to haunt such systems of governments with consequences horrendous and too ghastly to contemplate. At most in these political arrangements, the principals to the governments just buckle to immense international pressure and signed the deal without a real commitment to make it work leading to festering tensions and acrimony that will gnaw the government and in the process, kill it softly.

I have never been too fond of radical feminism or any form of extremism for that matter; finding it to be an aggressive, usually narrow and unhelpful approach to conflict resolution.

Radicalism is often reactionary, manifesting as a reaction to some undesired reality and is usually the preserve of those who feel they have something to defend against all costs and something to fight for against whatever odds.

As an activist, I have found that radicalism has its place, its use and its benefits in pursuing the elusive goal of attaining social justice for womankind.

Some weeks back, I read with glee, that Emilia Muchawa and a group of women had broken into song and dance protesting the negligible female representation in the constitution-making process’s committees and even had the gumption to threaten to derail the process altogether.

Now I reckon there are those who found such conduct distasteful, extreme and even uncalled for – but every once in a while, it is necessary for discontent to erupt into something more than passive resistance.

I do not know whether these women intended to make such a vocal display of their displeasure but I would like to think it was neither premeditated nor meant as a gesture of disrespect for the process – I’d like to think it was a spontaneous and extreme reaction to long suppressed frustrations that women have felt at having to be side-lined time and again in critical decision-making processes.

And I daresay, no one can argue that women’s grievances are legitimate and their frustration a natural consequence of ineffectual words never put to practice as our country has a great gender policy on paper and absolutely nothing to back it up on the ground.

The transition from theoretical gender policy frameworks to the implementation and practice of the same has yet to manifest; and while one can appreciate that it is not easy to reverse the thinking of years and that gender equity will be a process – one expects to see a degree of commitment towards living up to the words enshrined in the treaties, legislative instruments and laws which Zimbabwe has signed, ratified and enacted.

From the CEDAW to the SADC Protocol on Gender and Development, and other treaties focusing on the need for gender parity, Zimbabwe has made a commitment on paper that is yet to manifest in actuality; so with the imminent crafting of a new Constitution, women have every right to insist – no – to demand equal representation.

Article VI of the Global Political Agreement having stated without equivocation that the parties are, “Mindful of the need to ensure that the new Constitution deepens our democratic values and principles and the protection of the equality of all citizens, particularly the enhancement of full citizenship and equality of women,” it is only natural that a deviation from these noble goals be met with resistance, and if need be, outright mutiny.

However, cognisance must be taken of the fact that men folk have deeply internalised cultural values and have often related to women on a paternalistic level – an unfortunate consequence of being born and raised in a patriarchal society.

Having said this, I found the gesture made by Emilia Muchawa and the other women present at that gathering to be a definitive act of kicking paternalism to the curb.

Emphatically, Zimbabwean women are making a statement they have no use for paternalistic gestures; men do not ever need to make decisions (regardless of how well-meaning the intention) on behalf of women.

We can and we will speak for ourselves.

In this context, my view is that paternalism is premised on two considerations; the first being that men adopt a benevolent and ‘fatherly’ attitude towards women and by assuming this attitude they (men) then make decisions ostensibly meant to benefit women without the inclusion, consent or will of the women themselves.

So perhaps, it was with good intent that these men gathered, figuring that they would ‘know what was best for women’ and go ahead with the business of crafting the constitution without the permission, participation or involvement of women.

Inexorably, the women’s movement in this country has over the years consistently challenged and resisted patriarchal and paternalistic attitudes – suffice to say, the constitution-making process presents the most volatile battlefront yet.

Many years ago in a little German town called Hamelin, the people had a terrible problem of rats. They were everywhere – in the streets, houses, beds and even baby cots. The mayor and his people were stumped. One day the Pied Piper came along and said he could deal with the rat problem, if the Mayor would pay a huge sum of money. The mayor agreed. So the Pied Piper played his pipes and all the rats gathered, followed him out of Hamelin and fell off a cliff. When it was time to cough up, the mayor balked. So the Pied Piper played another tune and this time, all the children followed him and never returned.

The story of the Pied Piper might just be folklore, but in a little town called Harare, in a country where the economy is dysfunctional and politicians make empty promises, people are generally preoccupied with daily survival and keeping body and soul together above all else. Crucial social services like garbage collection and disposal are neglected, sometimes to the detriment of the people concerned. As street corners pile up with garbage, a new menace has surfaced and its kind has an unparalleled reproductive ability.

They are everywhere, living and rummaging in the corners where we store our garbage, occupying private spaces and threatening to invade our homes as their numbers grow exponentially in direct response to the piling rubbish. Hundreds of them are being born each day threatening to colonize and congest our cities as well as spread disease. Their exaggerated shapes and sizes have made the once ordinary rodents almost unrecognizable. The little nocturnal creatures now shamelessly dart across alleys in broad daylight; have become resistant to most common traditional poisons and have grown less and less fearful of man. They have become a silent but perilous plague that threatens our very lives, yet a lot of us are oblivious to the real dangers presented by rats. Because of their tendency to live where we live, rats are an effective agent of disease transmission. We have been unaware of the risks of catching all sorts of diseases and some awful things from this vermin. A single rat by itself is unimpressive and each time I spot one, I am reminded of the infamous bubonic plague which wiped out whole communities and half the populations of Europe and Asia circa the 1300s.

While piles of rubbish continue to compete for space on street corners and open spaces, street cleaning and inspection systems have gone to the dogs and cutbacks in pest control expenditure and increases in takeaway food shop and food litter have consequently contributed to the dramatic increase in the thriving rat population that has become very comfortable guests in our backyards.

Where I live in the avenues, the problem of rats in the alleys has become a seriously worrying risk to public health because of garbage that goes uncollected for weeks.  Visiting the communal garbage corner in my yard is a frightening experience. Fearless rats the size of cats dominate the area to the extent that nobody bothers to deposit their garbage properly into the metal bins anymore. The way to do it now is to stand a few feet away, take aim, and then smash and run. Just behind this space is an open playground where the children run around all day and play – care free; their parents oblivious to the impending danger just beyond the wall. They are all exposed to the risk of catching rat-bite fever – a systemic bacterial illness that can be passed on from rodents to humans. All it takes is one bite or a scratch from a rodent. Ingestion of food or water contaminated with rat excreta or urine also causes deadly types of food poisoning whose symptoms can certainly not pretty.

At the corner of Fife Avenue and 5th Street in the Avenues, there is a huge rubbish dump container the size of a space ship that is eternally overflowing with rotting garbage coming from the adjacent supermarkets. The air in that whole area has literally become oppressively rotten and unbreathable. The shops should be taking better responsibility in careful disposal of rubbish and cleaning up after themselves. However there is currently no enforcement, but it would be gratifying to see some huge fines imposed for careless rubbish dumping especially by corporate companies.

The city council has sometimes justifiably been blamed for not providing bins. In the not too distant past, every street corner was occupied by rubbish bins that were constantly emptied. Many corporate businesses used to even donate branded bins to the city in those days. I am not sure if this is no longer a lucrative marketing gimmick or billboards are just the new favorite. Nowadays, it is not surprising to cut across the city centre without ever bumping into a bin. I have too often experienced the little annoyance of carrying around a banana peel hoping to find a bin soon then finally being forced to deposit it into my backpack because I’m just not gifted with the ability to litter.

We need to go back to basics on public health before this thing goes out of control, that’s the small price to pay or we will soon cry foul after the Pied Piper has left town with our kids in tow. It is our responsibility to make sure our neighbor doesn’t throw rubbish on pavements; if government is too preoccupied to put in place fines, enforce sanitary laws and improve efforts to collect and dispose of trash. The starting point for a coordinated approach needed is for us as citizens to realize our duty to practice good sanitation. It is the only rat proofing technique and we might even consider adopting traditional ways of disposing garbage by digging dirt pits in our backyards and other places where rubbish dumping occurs. If we are prepared to dig boreholes in urban Harare for clean supply of water, we should have no problem digging rubbish pits for waste disposal to ensure our health before the rats, flies, mosquitoes and all other vermin imaginable gain in on us.

So I have a problem with making fashion out of dead legends. I am sure you have all seen bags and T-shirts bearing the images of greats like Steve Biko and Martin Luther King Jnr. I often cringe to think that these men, who fought for the emancipation of their people, now find themselves pasted onto brightly coloured garb, forming a part of popular culture.

Okay, so I think it’s important for young people to be conscious of the past, to be able to identify with the efforts of predecessors who have paved the way for a better today. But I am not so sure if a T-shirt will achieve this. What about a visit to a museum or a look through a history book?

Oh, but you will tell me that young people don’t have time for that, that between Face Book and their i-pods, there is simply no time for that. So how exactly does regalia ensure that these people are conscious of who these heroes are?

I tend to feel that all these artefacts are commercial gimmicks that ensure that ordinary people feed into the capitalist machine. In a world where everything and everyone famous is patented, it’s not hard to see how all these products largely serve the interests of a few. So we think it’s cool and conscious to buy something that says Kenyatta on it, or to cruise around wearing something emblazoned with Saartjie Baartman’s derriere when all it usually is some company churning out mass-produced goods for the health of their pockets and not history.

I do agree that these products make young people more curious about the past, but it’s saying something if they are not made aware of history within the school setting, or at home.

I remember that when I was in high school – at a private school – we were never taught Zimbabwean liberation war history because our school believed it was time to bury the hatchet between blacks and whites, the two main race groups in our school. And so instead, we learnt about Chinese feudalism, the Egyptian pyramids, 18th Century England and everything else that took us away from the gory details of Rhodesian history. I believe that was the wrong way to go about things.

Imagine if German kids weren’t taught about Nazism. It’s an ugly horrible shameful past, but one that must be confronted and accepted. It is what happened, and this can never change.

And it still saddens me to think that many young people, like I once did, go to school in Zimbabwe and know zip about their own culture and history. Sadly, T-shirts, caps and bags aren’t the real solution to unlocking one’s history.

It is a far more intricate process of unraveling the hidden layers of self.