Sticking close to the Bible to the end   by Konstanse Raen

Anna was HIV-positive but the Bible she constantly carried gave her hope

Anna (left) was rejected by her family when she was diagnosed as HIV-positive. She now gains comfort from the Bible and her friends at a widows' centre. She is pictured with Konstanse Raen, Regional Secretary of the Norwegian Bible Society. Kigali, Rwanda. Photo: NBS (RWADJ-65.JPG)

I first met her outside our house in Kigali: a woman dressed in simple clothes, with a big shawl covering her shoulders. On the ground at her feet were some decorated raffia baskets that she had for sale.

Our houseboy served as interpreter between us. “She’s a widow and she’s also probably suffering from AIDS,” he explained.

It hardly surprised me. During the genocide which overtook Rwanda in April 1994 more than 300,000 women lost their husbands, and since that sustained and brutal episode it is they who have suffered most: not only did they lose their husbands, and in many cases their children, but many were also brutally raped and infected with HIV.

The basket woman’s name was Anna. But when Anna started to tell her story, it was slightly different from that of the other women. The genocide did not make a widow of her; she was ‘widowed’ because she was diagnosed as HIV-positive and then her husband and her family threw her out: it brought a shame and disgust they could not stand.

Keep away

“They asked me to keep away from them and also my three children,” she told me. “Since then, I’ve had to fend for myself. The first days I roamed aimlessly around the streets, not knowing where to go. One evening I was so sick, hungry, and exhausted that I thought I was going to die. And I would have, if another widow, completely unknown to me, had not taken me in and helped me. It was God who sent her. As it says in Psalm 41, ‘Happy are those who are concerned for the poor; the Lord will help them when they are in trouble’.”

Anna’s constant companions were her knitting and her Bible – the latter kept carefully in a dress pocket with a zip fastener. She never left her house without her Bible. Every time she sat down, she took out her Bible and took up her knitting.

“It’s God who cares for me,” she said. “ I have nobody else to rely on. I’ve read Psalm 41 every day since I was thrown out. I spent several weeks in the hospital and Psalm 41 carried me through there too: ‘The Lord will help them when they are sick and will restore them to health.’ And don’t you think that I recovered! This was several years ago and I’m still alive! But life is difficult because they threaten to throw me out of where I’m staying. Old friends and the family won’t see me, as it says in Psalm 41: “All who hate me whisper to each other about me, they imagine the worst about me. They say, He is fatally ill; he will never leave his bed again! Even my best friend, the one I trusted most, the one who shared my food, has turned against me” (Psalm 41: 7-9).

“This is how I live, by God’s grace, one day at a time. The widow who took me in has started a widows’ centre where we can meet, talk together and help each other. Sometimes we also get food. So far, the Lord has taken care of me, as my Psalm says, ‘They will not triumph over me, and I will know that you are pleased with me’ (Psalm 41:11).”

I kept in contact with Anna for as long as we lived in Kigali. She came with bananas, sweet potatoes, and even a cock, in exchange for money for medicine against itching, which she sometimes found unbearable. She always carried her knitting with her and she wanted to sell me shawls by the metre.

Just before I left Kigali, a message came from a dispensary outside the city that Anna was dying. I knew that death would be welcome to her. “You guide me with your instruction and at the end you will receive me with honour” (Psalm 73:24). (WR 390/26 - 02.05)