In the treatment today, Tumelo, Naledi and Alaena talk about their dreams. Dreams are very important to the Zulus. They are a major way that the ancestors communicate with us. Whilst the Zulu god, Nkulunkulu has no interest in everyday life, the ancestor spirits (Amatongo or Amadhlozi), in contrast, have the power to intervene in people's lives, for good or ill. According to traditional beliefs, all misfortune is the result of a evil sorcery or offended spirits. Nothing happens just because of natural causes. Imagine how that belief system impacts on attitudes towards HIV/AIDS. The power of the Sangoma (the Zulu diviner/doctor) and suspicion of western medicine. How difficult it is to educate, to encourage people to take responsibility for their own actions. I wonder if this explains why the incidence of HIV/AIDS is highest in Kwazulu Natal, where the Zulu population is concentrated. I know nothing of belief systems of other tribes in South Africa - have no idea how similar they may be.
Back to dreams. Tumelo tells us that in the past, for some years, he has had terrible nightmares of snakes and lions - powerful creatures - pursuing him. The nightmares have stopped, along with night sweats. Last night he had a lovely dream, and he is sure that he will live. He wants to get back to Karate, and he is thinking of following in his father’s footsteps. I ask what his father did. He was a Zionist archbishop. I did not expect this. I discover a bit of snobbery inside myself: I am impressed. Even though I already knew that Tumelo is a poet. It is hard to see a person‘s qualities in full when they are very ill. Tumelo was a very grey and sick man - skinny and weak. He looks completely different, his skin glowing, eyes bright. He looks fatter. Stronger. His energy has expanded strikingly. His voice has changed. One can see the power in him. Naledi is quietly strong, and truly impressive. Tumelo is much less confident of himself but has a fire in him. His English is limited, and words tend to come out of him in bursts. Occasional impassioned descriptions of how well he is feeling, how he wants his old life back.
Alaena has also had a dream, and it reflects her sense that her healing has been principally emotional and spiritual. She has been HIV+ for 24 years, more than half her life: since she was a young woman. All that time, relationships have been overshadowed by HIV. At the beginning, before anti-retroviral drugs had been developed she had a not unreasonable fear of imminent death. At that time, she seemed poised for big success - Alaena is a natural star - and she pulled back, because the threat of public exposure, given the stigma of HIV, was unbearable. Add in family dismay, and you have a huge burden for a young woman to carry. One of the hardest things was keeping the secret. It was painful. It separated her from others. She separated herself from others because of it. It was difficult and painful to keep the secret but felt that she had to. She had become dependent on the secret. It is a relief to talk about it now. In her dream, Alaena had an animal, a dog perhaps, on her back. There were dogs all around, but this one had been latched onto her back, almost melded, for a long time. It was feeding on her, and she on it. She knew that she had to kill it and get it off her back, but the grief of doing so was huge. Alaena said that she felt like she imagined a mother who has been carrying a breast-feeding child for a very long time might feel when it is time for the child to go, to stop breast-feeding, time for the mother, as well as the child, to move on. She got the dog off her back, killed it. It was like killing part of herself. She didn’t want it to go, but she knew that she had to get it off. She woke up sobbing.. Grief such as she had felt at the death of her mother. The dream felt symbolic of her relationship with HIV - the virus, disease, had become part of her, so that it felt like her identity and it was difficult and painful to give it up. However, it was time to shake it off, mentally and physically - and perhaps its weight has already gone.
Tumelo and Naledi talk of marrying. That would be a big step, because a dowry (lebola) would have to be found and paid to Naledi‘s family. In traditional Zulu cultures the lebola for a good wife might be about 14 Nguni cattle. Today, it is more likely to be paid in a combination of cattle, refrigerators and household goods. The amount of lebola is agreed between the families. A girlfriend is free! I am outside the room when Tumelo talks of this, and when I am told, I am struck by the changes we are making in people’s lives. Tumelo could not have contemplated working enough to pay lebola two weeks ago.
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