In 2025, HIV/AIDS is still a big taboo in Africa. In my country, I had discussions with my relatives to know their opinion on the subject, and I asked: "Could you have a relationship with someone who is HIV-positive?" For many, the answer was no. The very idea of being in a relationship with someone who, according to them, could transmit AIDS which they still consider a deadly disease is unthinkable.
I hope that one day, the stigma around HIV will disappear.
And when I try to explain the difference between HIV and AIDS, that thanks to treatment, someone with an undetectable viral load does not transmit the virus, they don't want to understand. For many, HIV = AIDS = death. Full stop. As soon as people find out you are HIV-positive, they can reject you, insult you, wish you dead. I lived through that. Some can even use it against you: blackmail, slander, doors of opportunity that close without you knowing why.
Yet on Instagram, I follow HIV-positive people like Andrea Mestre, Doreen Moraa, SuperSero, Zora Voyce… Through their platforms, they talk about their lives, share their reality, their strength. Their journeys haven't been easy, but some were able to count on the support of their relatives. In English-speaking Africa, we see more and more creators on TikTok, Facebook or Instagram speak about their status, educate, encourage, fight against stigma.
But in French-speaking Africa, very few voices. In my country, there are associations, but they seriously lack visibility. I wanted to speak up myself. They told me: "No, you're too sensitive, you won't handle it." I answered: If it can set me free, even if it costs me my life, I'm not afraid. Why can diabetic or sickle-cell people speak freely about their health and receive support, but not us? Why do we have to hide our illness as if it were shameful, when we take our treatment, we live, we love, like everyone else?
The pastor talked about HIV, but only to remind people of the dangers and preach abstinence or protection. Not a word about hope, science, or today's reality.
I remember one day at church. The pastor talked about HIV, but only to remind people of the dangers and preach abstinence or protection. Not a word about hope, science, or today's reality. Not a word to say that we can live long, healthy lives, love, work, have a family. This pastor is also a doctor. I was shocked. That kind of message does more harm than good.
I hope that one day, the stigma around HIV will disappear. That HIV-positive people, myself included, can live without hiding. That they'll have the right to love, to work, to dream, without fear. Living with HIV is not dying. It's just… living differently. But living.
