Botswana

Historias reales

Botswana: Decimation and multiplication: the AIDS burden

© UNICEF/HQ01-0212/Pirozzi

Four children sit outdoors with their aunt

We drove into Oduetse Phuthego's compound in Molepolole, some 50 km west of the capital Gaborone, in the afternoon of a hot and humid October day. We found her seated on a reed floor-mat in the shade of a large jacaranda tree. Asleep, with their heads in her lap, were two toddlers - a topless boy and a girl wearing a bright floral summer dress. Even the sound of our four-wheel drive did not stir them. "They are tired from playing in the sun," explained Phuthego as she picked off the tiny purple flowers dropping from the jacaranda tree onto the sleeping duo.

Phuthego is a soft-spoken, 51-year-old, single mother of four. She is the eldest of five sisters, or was at any rate, since all have now passed away, leaving behind a total of 14 children dependant on her for maternal care and guidance. The youngest of these is Katlego, whose name means "success". Katlego's mother died when she was just four months old.

In addition to being a mother with a larger than average family, Phuthego is also unemployed. She supplements the food rations they get through the state orphan care programme by selling beer and doing other odd jobs under the Government's drought relief effort. Two of her sisters died last year, in October. Although one was married, she left behind a husband who is "also sick and not working," and seven children, explained Phuthego, her eyes squinting like someone in great pain.

There are an estimated 78,000 orphans in Botswana, a staggering figure for a country whose total population, according to the 1990 census, is just 1.6 million. Many of these children have been left behind with ailing grandparents, while some even head households. Most, though, are living with the trauma of having watched their beloved parents succumb to sickness and then die.

Faced with the fastest-growing infection rate and the highest HIV prevalence rates in the world, the Government of Botswana has taken an aggressive stance against the epidemic. In addition to prevention and treatment efforts, it was recognized that society could ill afford to ignore the plight of the sizeable minority of indirect victims - the orphans. In 1999, a two-year plan of action to mitigate the impact of AIDS on orphans and caregivers was launched. The multi-layered plan covered areas as diverse as orphan registration, the development of

an orphan care policy, providing support to community initiatives, and the delivery of social welfare and other essential services. In the margins, orphans were also provided with a food basket and basic necessities such as school uniforms.

UNICEF supports the monitoring and evaluation of the Government plan and the situation of orphans, as well as the development of an orphan care policy. UNICEF also helped with the development of the national database to register orphans.

Another important facet of UNICEF's work is providing support for community-based organizations that can ensure improved delivery of services to the children in need of them. One such organization is the Botswana Christian AIDS Intervention Programme (BOCAIP). BOCAIP has established a day-care centre in Molepolole to provide children with a safe environment in which to play after school and interact with others for peer support. In addition, children are fed, offered counselling and assisted with their homework. Centres like these also give caregivers like Phuthego some daytime relief, the space to deal with their own grief and problems; indeed, some of her little charges have been to the centre a few times. Regrettably, such centres are all too few, and many aren't large enough to cope with the demand: at the Molepolole centre, children eat outside because the facilities are not big enough to accommodate them. Training and other support for the volunteers who run these centres ensure they are able to provide better services and care for more children.

UNICEF also supports the government in its concerted effort to reduce the stigma associated with HIV/AIDS, itself often a contributing factor to the spread of HIV. Communities are expected to identify orphans and other vulnerable children and report them to social workers. These are then charged with assessing the situation of the children and taking further steps. The government declared that no child should be referred to as an "AIDS orphan". The programme encompasses all vulnerable children equally, be they orphans, abused children, homeless, etc.

In Phuthego's case, it was a village committee that first visited her and then reported her situation to the social worker. In due course, the social worker visited as well and registered the children for inclusion under the Government programme. Although the plan ambitiously envisages that social workers maintain a schedule of visits to monitor developments and provide help where needed, staff shortages often mean this remains wishful thinking: Phuthego and her large family never saw the social worker again. Phuthego's children, as she refers to them all

indiscriminately, go to school and most of them are doing well. On the whole, they seem happy and mix with others in the neighbourhood, although Phuthego says it is difficult to tell whether her neighbours truly accept the children or whether they're concealing their true feelings in her presence. Her one wish for them is that they all grow up to become healthy and happy men and women. Giving them something they can build a future with is her main worry: two of her sisters have left behind undeveloped plots of land allocated by the Government. These will be reclaimed unless used within a certain period of time. She prays that someone will assist her within the time limit to build small houses for the children, so that they too can have something to call their own.

As we talk, I can hear giggles from the other side of the house. Some of the children are taking turns plaiting each other's hair and are having fun doing it. I pick on Masego and ask her to come and tell me about herself, away from the others. She is 12, she tells me in rapid tones, and likes English, maths and learning about nutrition and "the importance of a balanced diet". She also likes cooking and, as we speak, she keeps an eye on the fire and the family supper: she's in charge of food today. She came top of her class last term and is confident that she will pass her primary school leaving examinations with flying colours next year.

Masego, her older brother of 13 and younger sister of 8 came to live with Phuthego after their mother died nearly two years ago. Talk of her mother draws Masego into herself and she is soon crying softly and hiding her face away from me. I tell her about my work and about the village we visited the previous week and the fun we had face painting with the children there. She nods silently when I ask if she'd like to try it and we are soon daubing bright colours on her tear-stained cheeks. She breaks from her sorrowful reverie to tell me about her desire to be a nurse. "I want to look after sick people. There are so many sick people these days."