How Shawls Can Save Someone's Life In Swaziland

My name is Zena and I am 27 years old. Introducing myself this way seems so impersonal. You don't know me and I don't really know you but maybe my story will reach your hearts and you can see the personal in it.

I grew up in one of the tiniest countries in Africa, Swaziland. Swaziland is a lush and beautiful place with the last remaining royal family in Africa. There is green everywhere but there are no oceans since it is bordered on all sides by land. One-third of our population is quite wealthy. Foreigners have also put up businesses in Swaziland. It sounds like a fairy tale doesn't it?

For the poor, it is not a fairy tale at all. If one-third of the population is well off, what about the remaining 70%? My mother was my father's second wife, the "co-wife" to his first one. In my country, men are allowed to have more than one wife. My mother's role in my father's household was not that of an equal or even, a partner. My mother provided the children that the first wife could not. She was also helper not only to my father but also to the first wife. In our modest home, my father made the all the decisions. He owned the land we farmed and the animals we herded. The wives owned nothing. In Swaziland, women cannot own land. Everything they do needs to be with the permission of their husbands. They are not even considered members of the husband's clan.

My father died due to an accident the summer I was 10 years old. That was the start of our troubles. In rural Swaziland, when a man died, his clan and not his wife or wives will decide what will happen to his property. Clan members came and took away all of my father's farmland, his animals, even our household items. His first wife was given to one of his brothers while my mother was given to another. This was before the law was changed that stopped this practice. Being a girl child, I was sent to be with my mother. My brothers, however, were given to the first wife to raise with the clan and her new husband. My father's brother was a poor man and he was not really able to take care of my mother and me. My mother would work from sunrise to sunset for her husband, tilling a meager sugar cane plot and harvesting fruits and nuts from the bush.

At 16, my marriage was arranged to a young man from another clan. I thought that my life would change but what I didn't know was I will be faced with many more challenges before I find peace. Some government workers came to my village to give us medical tests. I was shocked to find that I had something called HIV, so did my mother. We didn't know then what it was and where it came from. I would find out later that I was born with HIV and my mother most likely got it from my father. I would also find out later that our small country has the highest incidence of HIV infection in the world.

My husband and my in-laws terrorized me when they found out I had HIV. I was accused of bringing it into my husband's family. You see, Swazi men find it difficult to believe that their sexual practices can bring such devastating effects. Having many wives, girlfriends and children is a sign of virility. However, for a woman to have a sexually-transmitted virus like HIV then it must be that she is promiscuous. They threw me out and I was forced to go home to my mother, pregnant and penniless. By then, my mother had full-blown AIDS and was spending her days sick and delirious in her bed. To support myself, my child and my mother, I needed to find work or any means of livelihood. I left my baby with my mother's sister and left for the capital city, Mbabane. My mother never saw me succeed. She died a few months after I left for the city.

The textile industry in Swaziland is big and bustling. It was sheer luck that I found myself working for a weaving company run by an English woman. In the villages, women were taught to plait grass to make roofs and baskets. In the English woman's studio, we were taught to apply our skills to weave soft blankets and shawls. I had never known such kindness in my life. There was someone there to teach me, help me, point me in the right direction. I have also never been paid any wages before and almost jumped for joy the first time I received payment. It was more than I expected. In the first few months of my employment, I was able to save up enough to fetch my son from our relatives and took him with me to the city.

During the day when I have work, he attends a small daycare put up by the owner of our firm. I know that there, he is well-fed and watched over. I have also joined a group that makes sure I get the right medication for my HIV. By some miracle, my son does not carry the virus and I expect him to live a long and happy life. The shawls we make are made of a material called mohair. We color them with beautiful dyes and package them proudly. Even if I may never be able to own one of our beautiful products, I know that someone out there is enjoying them. I also know that it is these shawls that saved mine and my son's life.

References:

Creative Women. www.creativewomen.com

Voice of America News. "In Aids-afflicted Swaziland, rural women learn weaving for profit." Voice of American News, 09 April 2009. News online at http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/a-13-2009-04-09-voa55-68733542.html?refresh=1

Siphiwe Hlophe. "HIV-positive in Swaziland." The Guardian Weekly, 30 November 2007. Article online at http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2007/nov/30/swaziland-international-aid-and-development/print