HIV-positive women are highly stigmatised. In Mali, one of the ten poorest countries in the
world, GAIA is a charity that funds treatment, education and training
to prevent HIV transmission during childbirth so that this scourge does
not extend to the next generation.
Every Friday in Sikoro, one of Bamako’s slums, lunch is cooked
and served by HIV positive women for HIV positive women and their
children. The activity draws many to the clinic, strengthening the
bonds of a highly stigmatised and marginalised community in desperate
need for support. They allow for shared experiences and education on
care and nutrition.
These culinary activities are at risk of closing down due to limited funds.
Bamako, the capital of Mali in West Africa is as colourful as a city
can get. Hot, noisy, pungent and polluted, Bamako assaults all five
senses at remains of an extinct volcano—to the north of thin pink layer
of dust on your skin by the end of the day. From the escarpment—the
the city, you see will see the city and its six once. The red soil of
Bamako’s streets will leave a communes as they engulf the once fertile
Niger river on both sides, reminding of Bamako’s serene and prosperous
past. Just north of there, on the outskirts of the city is a slum
called Sikoro.
The walk from the modestly furnished house that GAIA rents to Sikoro will take you about 45
minutes. to Sikoro will take you about 45 drenched within minutes -no
matter the time of the day- and you will have to you share the road
with cars, motorcycles, donkeys, cows, goats and people, as minutes.
The heat will have you
The walk from the modestly furnished house that GAIA rents there are no
sidewalks. Along the way, you will wave at the children and their
mothers, who walk -often long distances- with an infant on their back,
a basket on their head, a bucket in one hand, an older child’s hand in
the other. You will reply to the many hellos thrown your way by
passersby and people sitting on the sides of the road, and forget the
physical discomfort evermore with every smile, exquisite and
contagious, belonging to some of the poorest people on the planet.
Soon, you too will fall in love with them, as did I. You will
fall in love with the children who want you to touch their little hands
and remember them forever by taking their photographs;
with the ladies braiding each other’s hair in the afternoon heat,
calling out that they love you and kissing your hands. You will fall
in love with the men, sitting in the shade of a rare tree, listening to
the radio, inviting you for a cup of tea. So for a moment, you will
forget about their torn, dirty clothes, their bare feet and their
scars. It’s as if they have everything in the world.
When you finally reach the Centre de Santé Communautaire de Sikoro, the clinic that offers basic health care services to the community, you will be greeted by fruit vendors sitting outside
the clinic’s walls, selling the few seasonal fruits available. It’s
Friday, and the women have will have already started cooking. This is
a weekly culinary activity, funded through GAIA*, by HIV positive women
for HIV positive women and their children. A group of more than 20
women and children will be sitting in a corner of the clinic’s
courtyard, taking turns stirring the food in a large pot over a pile of
wood on fire. The children will be playing or in their mothers’ arms,
some asleep despite the heat and the noise. They will immediately
signal for you to join them and make space on the crammed benches.
GAIA’s Mother-to-Child Transmission of HIV Prevention programme
has been running for a couple of years now. It has been nothing short
of success. You will see the young children and the infants are all
HIV negative and the women receive HIV care and medicines for free. A
small, heart-warming success story amidst a world of budget-cuts that
has left millions more with no access to medicines.
Haby—the feisty little woman who has assumed a leader’s position among the group—will explain GAIA’s goals to you. She wants to expand the programme, and bring in all the women in the community.
It’s a way of both educating the community on HIV, it’s transmission
modes and how to prevent mother-to-child transmission as well as
teaching the women who are HIV positive the importance of proper
nutrition for a better and healthier life-style. A programme that is
accessible to the wider community will also help decrease the stigma
surrounding HIV and AIDS and therefore increase screening so that more
people who are infected can be treated. She wants to build a kitchen
where currently there is none and therefore provide a shelter that can
operate year round regardless of the seasons. She wants to create a
home and build a family that will have its doors open to women who have
been stigmatised and marginalised by the rest of society.
Lunch is ready and it’s time to eat. There will only be a few
large bowls to eat from and no utensils. Graciously, they will give
you the only metal bowl. The others are all made of plastic and they
all have holes in them, probably from repeated exposure to the steaming
hot food. 
The women will gather in groups and share bowls. Everyone eats with
her hands. The women will expertly put each handful of food in their
mouths. You will manage with difficulty, trying not to burn your
fingers, shooing away the flies at the same time. Everyone will talk
and laugh. The vide will feel like that of a celebration.
Soon however, Haby will explain to you that the programme is at risk.
There is no money to replace the bowls or to construct a kitchen. With
the rainy season fast approaching, without a roof to protect them,
cooking in the open space will be impossible. Surrounded by the
poverty of Sikoro, where a child’s toy consists of a used bottle
hanging from a rope, telling them that you can’t do anything will not
be an option.
GAIA needs a total of $5,000 to build a kitchen, buy cooking utensils, pots and bowls.
The details are:
Cooking utensils: $150
Bowls: $600
Pots: $1,250
Kitchen construction: $3,000
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