This month the Holy Father asks us to pray that Christ may ease the physical and spiritual suffering of those who are sick with AIDS, especially in the poorest countries. Their suffering is great. What they experience in their bodies, and even more what they experience in their hearts, is beyond the imagining of those of us who have never been through anything similar.
But many also experience in a deep and personal way that God is close to them, going through their sufferings with them, helping them to make sense out of their situation and making it easier for them to endure extraordinary mental and physical distress. Many of these wonderful people remind you of Our Lord on the Cross, giving everything so that He might also give us the life of His Resurrection.
I think of Brigitte Syamalevwe, a teacher of French at a secondary school in Zambia. Sometime in 1992 she was diagnosed as having HIV. At first her life seemed to be shattered. She lost hope. She was near to despair. She raged against everything in her life. But in her turmoil she received support from a wise priest who encouraged her to speak about her situation so that others would not go down the same road.
Brigitte took up this challenge and became dynamically involved in speaking about the epidemic and especially on behalf of people living with HIV. She resigned from her teaching position and gave herself entirely to this work. By the end of the 1990s she had become a well-known figure who spoke fearlessly, feelingly, and passionately about HIV and AIDS.
But all the time, the disease was eating away at her immune system. Brigitte’s friends offered to pay for her to go on to antiretroviral treatment which was becoming more readily available and less costly. But she refused, saying she would do so only when the poor of Zambia, and particularly the women, could also have access to such treatment.
Meanwhile she continued her work, speaking across the world, running workshops for education and other personnel, and making sure that rural households with HIV-infected members continued to produce the food they needed for their survival. If, at the end of a talk or workshop, you asked her how she felt, she would smile wearily, admit to terrible tiredness and sometimes to great nausea, and speak of the pains in her legs and thighs. But she battled on, always wonderfully cheerful, always giving hope to others, never thinking about herself, still refusing to begin the medical treatment that could save her.
But from 2001, things began to deteriorate in her life. Her youngest son, Ubert, aged twenty and a great favourite of hers, had to have his foot amputated because of a cancerous condition. She gave him wonderful support and encouragement throughout the dark months that followed for this athletic young man. And he reciprocated, frequently telling her that she had been given a mission from God, to tell the world about HIV and AIDS and what it was like from the inside, and never to let up on this task.
It was not easy for her. She was becoming weaker as her immune system slowly collapsed. At the same time, she was greatly troubled lest the HIV-infected families for which she had assumed responsibility, almost 100 of them, would not have ploughed or have the necessary seeds and fertilisers when the rains came and the time for planting was at hand. She was wrapped up in these concerns when, in October 2002, her husband died of AIDS. But instead of spending the customary long period in mourning she hurried back, shortly after her husband’s funeral, to the work with her HIV-infected families.
Meantime, Ubert’s condition worsened as the cancer spread from his leg throughout his body. Brigitte was due at this time to go to London, to speak at a meeting of the Catholic Institute of International Relations (CIIR). She told Ubert that since he was so ill she did not know what to do. Once again, he reminded her of his earlier words: she had a special mission from God and so she was to go to London and give her talk and not let any worry about him stop her.
She went, but on arrival in London got word that Ubert had died. She stayed in her hotel bedroom that night, alone, sitting on the ground, rocking to and fro in her grief, thinking of her beloved son and his anxiety that she do the work God had given her. When morning came, she went to the BBC for an hour-long interview, in the evening made her presentation to the CIIR, and that night flew back to Zambia for the funeral of her son, the second member of her immediate family to be buried within two months.
The death of Ubert seemed to take the heart out of Brigitte. Her own condition continued to deteriorate and eventually she agreed to begin the necessary medical treatment. The doctor prescribed antiretroviral drugs and these were paid for; but when her family wanted to collect them, she told them not to do so, to leave her in God’s hands. And so, overwhelmed by grief, weariness and illness, she died quietly and peacefully in February 2003, letting her great spirit soar to the God whom she had loved and served so well.
It is impossible not to be inspired by a great woman like this. And Brigitte is not alone. She is representative of innumerable great women in Zambia and across the world, and of so many men also, who are living courageously with HIV or AIDS. They are the Easter witnesses to the closeness of Christ in the darkness of HIV and AIDS. They are the proof that God does give ear to our prayers that Christ may ease the physical and spiritual suffering of those who are sick with AIDS, especially in the poorest countries.