| Siboneleni Nkomo (Linda) | My name is Linda and I am from Zimbabwe. I arrived in the UK in June 2003. Before I came to the UK I was self-employed. I used to run a small shop. Since I came to the UK I have studied various short courses and now I am interested in studying to become a nurse. I hope I will be able to do it. |
Anabel was my dearest aunt. She was young and beautiful. I loved her. I was really close to her, although I was very young. In the village where we lived in Zimbabwe, everybody knew her and loved her. She was full of love. I wanted to be just like her. She was only 21 when she got AIDS. She died. Instead of receiving her key of the door, to the world, she got AIDS. I knew nothing at all about AIDS. The funeral was the first one I had been to and it was horrible. It was the first time I had seen a dead body. Her eyes were open. Her mouth was open because the nurses had been scared to touch because she died of AIDS. I had nightmares about it for months. At the funeral there was everyone from the village and from the neighbouring village. We, the relatives, we cried for Anabel, but the amazing thing was the men at the funeral cried a lot. I couldn't understand it why the men were crying like that. In our culture the men do not cry. They show the signs of being sad but they do not shed the tears. I even asked my sister why these men were crying? I couldn't understand it. She told me that they were not crying for Anabel. They were crying for themselves. These men, with wives and children, had had sex with Anabel. They were wondering who was next. When I returned to the village a year later, I learned that three quarters of the men had died and were still dying. Even the wives were dying too. Children were left without parents all because of one person, Aunt Anabel. Beloved Aunt Anabel. | 
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