Thuly
Our household suffered another sad loss this month.
Thuly has worked in this house since long before I came on the scene. Twice a week, with great kindness, she made our home tidy and our lives comfortable. When I moved here the idea of having a maid/housekeeper/domestic worker/helper sounded indulgent, exciting, and totally foreign. For the first few months it felt awkward to have someone in my space washing my dirty dishes and hanging my clothes in the closet. But over time I got used to the arrangement, which is a very normal part of South African life. Thuly was so much more than just someone who came over to do housework, she was an important person in our lives, just as we were important people in her life. She was kind and generous. She was a caring mother, sister, and daughter. She sang beautifully and had a big bright smile. She always asked about my family, she noticed and complimented our new furniture or wall color, and offered a big hug when Spooky died.
She is yet another painful example of the terrible health problems that plague South Africa. Almost daily we hear the shockingly high disease and mortality statistics in South Africa, but it’s hard to make sense of just what a colossal waste of life it is until someone close to you falls victim. And the sad part is that if you’re here for long enough it will one day be someone you care about.
Today, on World AIDS Day, I am reminding anyone reading this that despite huge medical advances, the HIV infection rate in Southern Africa and elsewhere is astoundingly high, and it’s quietly destroying lives and families and communities. This country has the world’s largest HIV-positive population, and an astounding 30% of pregnant women in SA are HIV positive (via). Think about the impact of a statistic like that. It’s hard to believe and to imagine.
Today I remember Thuly and Thembi, both kind women and mothers who lost their battles this year at such young ages. Like Thembi, Thuly didn’t get quality care or respectful care. By the time she got access to the life-saving medicines that she has a constitutional right to it was too late. We’re so sad that she met such a needless, untimely end. Somewhere here there is a lesson to be learned and a call to action to respond to, I’m still trying to figure out where to start in the face of such need.
Thuly, thank you for all that you did for us, you are missed and you will be lovingly remembered.
