/ 21 April 2005

From pariah to Aids messiah

Her life took a shocking turn for the worse two years ago when a blood test confirmed that she was HIV-positive. Her initial reaction was to run – from her work and from her husband. ‘I was furious because I didn’t know how I became HIV-positive. I knew that I had never cheated on my husband. In fact, my initial reaction was that he had cheated on me because he was a long-distance truck driver,” says Mkhize.

She returned home with her ailing brother only to receive a beating from her husband who suspected that she was involved in an extra-marital affair. Without support or counselling, Mkhize’s desperation was magnified when her second brother died shortly thereafter.

‘Both my brothers were educators and I can now disclose that they both died of Aids-related ailments,” she says.

The mounting stress and tension in her life soon took their toll and Mkhize became seriously ill. On her return to work from sick leave, Mkhize says that the principal at Sion Primary School where she worked informed her that the parent community no longer wanted her at the school because of her frequent absence.

This was the beginning of a series of experiences that brought home to Mkhize the tough realities that come with being HIV-positive: not only having to cope with her deteriorating health, Mkhize also faced unfair discrimination. At one stage, off sick from school because of shingles, Mkhize realised that she hadn’t been paid her monthly salary. Enquiries through the South African Democratic Teachers’ Union (Sadtu) revealed that she had been charged with misconduct and fired.

It was only with the help of Sadtu that Mkhize was eventually able to challenge her work-place harassment and be reinstated. At the same time, she became the first educator in KwaZulu-Natal to publicly disclose her status.

This was by no means the end of her trials: at one stage, death threats forced her to go into hiding, she was stabbed by unknown assailants and had her house burgled.

She says that the contemptuous treatment she received doused her passion for teaching, a profession she pursued despite enormous obstacles. ‘I worked in Ladysmith and paid for the college education of both my brothers. They reciprocated after graduating but I was already married and 35-years-old when I commenced my studies.”

Mkhize has been on sick leave since June but says that, despite all the hardships that followed her public disclosure, she has no regrets: ‘I am elated that I went public. It’s a thrill to know that I am now in a position to help others. I receive desperate telephone calls for help from all over South Africa and neighbouring states such as Swaziland. In a two-week period, I received over two hundred calls from KwaZulu-Natal alone.”

Mkhize uses her meagre financial resources to visit and counsel some of her callers. ‘I have no formal training as an Aids counsellor but during my visits I can fully empathise with their pain, hurt and anxieties. Sadly, many of them cannot afford food or money for medication and this worsens their condition,” says Mkhize.

Mkhize is determined to shatter the stigma that those infected and affected by HIV/Aids so often have to bear. Whenever her health permits, she addresses public gatherings on Aids-related issues.

‘Hopefully, it will also inspire the public to treat all HIV-positive people with love and care. Being HIV-positive doesn’t mean that we are going to die immediately or that death should be without dignity,” she says.