The global HIV/AIDS epidemic is now more than thirty years old, and in the absence of a miracle cure, it will grow older. In its short time with us, HIV/AIDS has become a powerful force, and not just because it has caused millions of deaths. It is more than just a biological occurrence. It is a major cultural event of the modern era that has reshaped the relationships that individuals, countries, and even whole continents have with one another. It has come to represent the continent of Africa and the people living in it, limiting their abilities to define their own identities as individuals interacting with a challenging and complex world.
One of the last people I spoke with in Nigeria was a family friend, Paul Nwabuikwu, a former editorial board member of the Nigerian newspaper the Guardian. His editorials and opinions are highly regarded by many Nigerians, and he has written extensively on a number of social and political topics, including HIV/AIDS. “I’m very uncomfortable with the way AIDS has morphed from being something that started in the West to being another face of Africa. Just like hunger. Just like political instability. Just like poverty,” he said. “I’m very uncomfortable with that transformation. As a Nigerian, as an African, I have to make the point that, yes, I understand this is real, but it’s not my identity. I refuse to accept it. It’s a disease that affects everybody, but it’s not my identity.” Because Paul does not have HIV, one might be tempted to dismiss his statement as the thoughts of someone who doesn’t really know what it’s like to live with the disease, but his words reflect an attitude apparent in all the people I met, HIV positive or not, while researching and writing this book: HIV is not the entirety of who I am as a person; it is not the entirety of who we are as a country or continent.
The people who shared their stories with me have approached HIV/AIDS and its impact in different ways. Some, like Hope, have sought a quiet existence full of routine, family, and daily concerns, of which HIV/AIDS is one of many. Others, like Samaila Garba or Jessam Nwaigbo, have been more vocal in a quest to combat the stigma that limits the opportunities of HIV-positive people in Nigeria and the rest of the world. Many have tried to provide care and emotional support to people living with HIV/ AIDS. The driving force for everyone, it seems, is a profound sense of commitment to the idea of a common humanity. Their lives, their stories, and their actions are an acknowledgment that, disease or no disease, we are all fundamentally the same. We are all human.
HIV/AIDS, however real, cannot change that.