The reality is far from what you see only sister and I hope this article will enlighten you.
Mohamud Yasin,
a 29-year-old HIV positive man, talks to Marcel
Wiel about finding
a voice for HIV positive Somalis in the UK
I have known at least half a dozen Somalis who’ve killed themselves in London because of their HIV status. Most throw themselves under a tube train,” explains Mohamud Yasin, a project worker with the Naz Project, London.
“A Somali who finds out he is positive will say to himself the virus is punishment from God. So if he lives and gets sick, that’s extra pain and sickness in this life. So why live?”
‘A white man’s disease’
Dispelling this deeply pessimistic view of living with HIV is a major challenge for Mohamud who runs Besharo-Kher, a support group for positive Somalis in the UK. But it is not the only challenge.
“My biggest battle is against fear and ignorance. Somalis here see HIV as a white person’s problem, a gay disease and something that doesn’t affect Muslims. They believe if a Muslim becomes positive, it’s because he or she followed these white, gay ways.”
But the reality is quite different. “Most positive Somalis in the UK became infected abroad. When civil war broke out in the early 1990s, many fled to neighbouring countries, such as Ethiopia and Kenya, temporarily settling in cities or refugee camps before coming to the UK. That’s where many became infected.
Mohammed Omaar, executive director of the Association of London Somali Organisations and brother of BBC reporter Rageh Omaar, calculates that there are around 300,000 Somalis in the UK. This includes second and third generation Anglo-Somalis.
Half live in London, while the remainder have settled mostly in Birmingham, Sheffield and Cardiff. About 55 per cent are under 16.
Currently there is no way of knowing how many Somalis are affected by HIV, but it is thought to be on the increase. A recent meeting of Besharo-Kher attracted 75 people. Part of the problem is that Somalis only discover their HIV status when they become ill. “Somalis often discharge themselves from hospital rather then face an HIV test,” says Mohamud.
Covered faces
These attitudes to HIV have their roots in their home country. Even in the capital Mogadishu, there is little infrastructure to support people who test positive.
“They tend to be put in isolation. One man, ill with Aids, lived separately from the rest of the family and his mother would pass him food through a window. Motherhood is very important in Somali culture. If that mother had had the correct information, she would never have done that. She loved her son; I know that. That’s why she kept him in her house.
“In most cases a positive person will just leave their home patch and live somewhere where they are not known. They often get desperate and go for local cures and potions. Basically, they are setting themselves up to die alone.”
Here in the UK, language and deep feelings of stigma stand in the way of Somalis accessing services. “When they go for a medical appointment, they are afraid of being seen by another Somali in the waiting room. Many cover their faces. Others, if they see another Somali waiting for the doctor, will go away. Sometimes they’ll try to check with the receptionist if any other Somalis have appointments that day.”
Taking a leaf...
Even talking about sexual health is hard for Somali men and women.
“Typically, men blame women and women blame men. Qat, a leaf with amphetamine-like properties, is strongly related to unprotected sex in the Somali community. Often men will chew Qat all night long and afterwards, they want sex. But if their wives, busy with family and domestic chores, aren’t available, they’ll go out to get extra-marital sex.
“Positive Somali married women say this is how they’ve become infected. And when a married Somali man finds out he’s positive, he blames his wife. Personally, I usually believe the woman in this blame-game. I know in most cases they spend a lot of their time indoors looking after the family, and the opportunity to go out and have extra-marital sex just doesn’t arise.
“I’m lucky; my family accepted me when I told them about my HIV. I felt I couldn’t hide it all the time. I knew being secretive would make me sick and even more depressed. Being open about respecting myself, which is an essential first step for me to respect other people.
Something good
“After I became infected in the late 1990s and started work in the HIV sector in east London, I found it difficult to talk about it within my community. But I knew, if my community had proper information about HIV, they would love positive Somalis again. But it was such a fight to get this information to them. Many times I felt like giving up, but I always said to myself, ‘If I don’t get involved, who will?’ The stigma and the isolation would never be dealt with - not only my own - and education around HIV in my community would never happen.”
Mohamud chose the name ‘Besharo-Kher’ - meaning ‘something good’ - for the support group. “I wanted positive Somalis not to see HIV as a reason to commit suicide. Something good can come of it. But everything starts with being open. That’s why I decided to be open about being positive myself.
“I try to help positive Somalis be more open. By bringing them together I want them not to feel they are alone and that they can support each other. A year ago, I joined NAZ as a project worker and carried on with the group, which has continued to grow. I think we are the only open HIV support group for Somalis in the world. Members have even met, fallen in love and got married.”
Mohamud also runs an Islamic HIV support group and a group for gay Somalis. He and his team of volunteers, four of whom are positive, conduct advocacy, outreach and education sessions in community groups and mosques. “These four are now willing to be open about their status and it’s my dream come true.
“Being open is very important. Back in July, at a NAZ conference for black and ethnic minority women, a Somali woman stood up and came out as positive in front of everyone. When she did this, I can’t tell you how I felt. It was like my heart was singing. It felt like someone had given me the biggest gift in the world.”
Any after thoughts?
source:
http://www.positivenation.co.uk/issue106/features/feature3.htm
