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Stories of Hope
 The medical advancements the Foundation has funded and supported throughout the years have created an irrepressible new emotion for those infected with HIV/AIDS: Hope. All over the United States and around the world, adults and children are learning to live with the mental and physical effects of this life-shattering disease, and they're doing so with strength and grace. Learn about the various ways HIV/AIDS influences daily life from firsthand accounts written by friends of the Foundation. We wouldn't be surprised if their stories inspire you to join in the fight against pediatric HIV/AIDS and illness.
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Featured Story
Chiku
 My name is Chiku and I am 16 years old. I live in Moshi, Tanzania, where I go to secondary school. I am determined to become a medical doctor some day. I am also HIV-positive.
I was born in Dar es Salaam (Tanzania’s capital), but my father made life difficult for my family because he was drunk and aggressive toward us. When I was five years old, I went with my mother and elder sister to live with my grandmother in rural Moshi — about 400 miles away.
Soon after we moved, my mother started getting weaker. She got rashes and could not eat anything. She passed away in 2000. During her funeral, we found out that our father had also died — a year earlier. I was still very young at the time and did not know what had killed my parents.
In 2003, I started getting sick constantly with similar symptoms to what my mother had. I had wounds all over my body and they were very painful. My grandmother and uncle suspected that I had AIDS but they did not want to tell me.
My grandmother decided to sell her only two cows to get some money to buy local herbs that she heard would cure AIDS. The herbs did not help me at all and worse still, I eventually had to stop going to school because of my illness.
In 2005, when I was 14, my grandmother heard that Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center (KCMC), a Foundation-supported hospital, was providing HIV drugs. She took me to the hospital for testing and I was diagnosed as HIV-positive. I was enrolled in the care and treatment program and began taking antiretroviral medication (ARVs) to control my HIV. However, my family did not explain to me what my diagnosis meant or why I was taking these medications.
After one year of taking ARVs, I regained my strength and went back to school. That is when I started to understand what AIDS is all about through one of my teachers — and I realized that I had it. I asked my uncle if I was born with HIV and if the drugs I was taking were for curing the disease. My uncle scratched his head and said in Kiswahili, “If you don’t fix up the crack you will end up building the wall.” He would not tell me why I was taking the medications but he encouraged me to continue taking them. Eventually, I stopped taking the medicines without telling anyone because I was fed up that no one would tell me what they were for.
During one of my sessions at KCMC, I insisted the doctor tell me everything since my uncle had failed to tell me the truth about my HIV status. The doctor told me about my status and explained what ARVs are and what they would do for me. Once I had this information, I felt I had nothing to worry about.
Soon after this visit with the doctor, I resumed taking my drugs. Now, I encourage the other HIV-positive children at the clinic to continue to take their medications and to never give up.More Stories of Hope
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