My name is Alice. My husband died in 2008 when I was pregnant with our sixth child. I moved to a house in Kakamega from Ikolomani village, where my family lives. My husband was the family breadwinner, supplying vegetables to traders at the trading center in the village. He had been sick often, was referred to the provincial general hospital in Kakamega, and later died.

My name is Potso, and I’m 30 years old. I live in Mokhotlong District, Lesotho. My village, called Polomiti, is high in the mountains. The nearest town, Mapholaneng, is 30 minutes away on horseback. The weather in Mokhotlong is very difficult. There is heavy rain in summer and lots of snow in winter. When the weather is bad, it is nearly impossible to travel anywhere by car or motorbike. The only way to get around is on foot or horseback. Three years ago, I heard that the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation was looking for horse owners to ride to and from health clinics in the mountains. The Foundation needed help transporting blood samples from these clinics to the laboratory at Mokhotlong Hospital.

My name is Zanele and I am 25 years old. One year ago, on World AIDS Day 2009, I lived with my husband, Mfanzile, and my one-year-old daughter, Phiwa, in Mkhulamini, Swaziland.

Life was hard. We lived in a one-room house with barely enough space for the three of us. We earned very little money; sometimes we did not have enough food to eat. Mfanzile and I were HIV-positive, and although we both took our medications, Mfanzile was often sick.

Despite all of these difficulties, we were happy. Mfanzile and I lived for Phiwa. Thanks to the prevention of mother-to-child transmission of HIV (PMTCT) services that I received during and after my pregnancy at the Mkhulamini clinic, Phiwa was HIV-negative and healthy.

My name is Agness. I’m 32 years old and live in Mtendere, a township in Lusaka, Zambia. In 2002, I received some devastating news: I was diagnosed with HIV. After learning my status, I felt very scared and alone. With a two-year-old daughter to look after I was worried what my diagnosis would mean for me and my family. When my daughter began getting sick, I feared the worst. My friends encouraged me to take her to the clinic where she was examined and tested for HIV. When her results came back positive, I felt like my family was falling apart. Fortunately, I live in a community where HIV and AIDS care and treatment services are available for me and my daughter.

My name is Lucas, and I have a brother named Lee. We’re both living with HIV. We didn’t know we were HIV-positive until one day last summer, when my mom told us why we had to take so much medicine and why we went to the doctor so often.

My name is Setloboko but you can call me Daniel. Daniel is my English name and I love speaking English. I love to sing in English too.

I am 17 years old and I live with my grandmother in Molika-liko village, high in the mountains of Lesotho in Mokhotlong district. My younger brother and I came to live here after my mother died in 1997. After we moved here my brother grew sick. He also died in 1999.

My name is Marekelalitsoe and I am 22 years old. I live with my husband in a village in Mokhotlong district, Lesotho. My husband builds houses for a living and I am a housewife. I’m 28 weeks pregnant with our first child.

This morning, I came to the clinic at Mokhotlong Hospital for my first antenatal checkup. I was scared before I came. My family told me that the nurses would insult me because I delayed coming for so long. But that did not happen – the nurses and staff were good to me and made me feel welcome.

My name is Josephine, and I am a young woman living with HIV. If it weren’t for EGPAF, I wouldn’t be alive today. When I was 10 years old, I learned that I was living with HIV.

I had found a letter that my mother never intended for me to see, confirming that she, my father, my sister and I were all infected with the virus. Our family had been plagued with illness for many years, and before seeing the letter, I had never understood why. My mom was the worst. She suffered from pneumonia many times, and we both had bumps all over our skin.
 

Life can always be counted on to give you the unexpected. It’s up to us, as individuals, to decide what to do with the cards we are dealt. More than anyone I know, my mom understood this. She, Susie Zeegen, and Susan DeLaurentis created the Foundation at a time when few people understood that HIV affected children differently than adults. They barely knew that it affected children at all.

But after everything that happened to my sister Ariel, my mother made people understand that research would be the ultimate key to saving other children and eventually stopping the AIDS epidemic. My mother fought against the grain not for what was acceptable, but for what was right. She wouldn't let anything stand in her way, and neither will I.