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By the late 1980s AIDS had become an epidemic. The dreaded disease was particularly devastating to black South Africans, segregated by race, poverty and cruel social stigma. Those afflicted did not know the name of this illness; they called it "the thin disease." They knew only that to contract it was to receive a death sentence.
Veteran news correspondent Jim Wooten had spent much time reporting war, strife and upheaval on the African continent. It is through Jim's eyes, ears and soul that Nkosi Johnson's story is revealed. In February 1989 a tiny, sickly baby boy was born to Daphne, a single teenager living in poverty in a remote village with no name in what had once been Zululand. Daphne contracted AIDS during this second pregnancy, so at birth her baby was already destined to suffer.
While more developed parts of the world were setting up AIDS care centers, shelters and hospices, South Africa remained, medically speaking, in the Stone Age. Public officials refused to deal with the grave situation. President Thabo Mbeki stonewalled efforts to provide information about the disease and any possible treatment for it. In fact, Mbeki went so far as to say that AIDS medications were poison.
Daphne was frightened because her tiny baby was constantly ill and could not gain weight. She crossed social and cultural barriers just to take Nkosi to a clinic in the white part of town where a kindly doctor gave her the dreaded news that both she and Nkosi were afflicted. Daphne was determined to place her son someplace where he would be taken care of when she became too ill to look after him.
Gail Johnson, a middle-class white woman who lived in a suburb of Johannesburg, became an outspoken advocate for AIDS patients after meeting a friend's brother who was dying of AIDS alone and uncared for. She was appalled that AIDS patients were treated like modern-day lepers. Gail set up a shelter for these dying white men, and Daphne showed up on the doorstep of the Guest House in Johannesburg begging the shelter's staff to take her son. Nkosi did move into the shelter and instantly became the darling of both patients and staff. Financial problems soon forced the closing of the Guest House, so Gail and her family took Nkosi into their home to raise as their own. Daphne died when Nkosi was three.
In Gail's home Nkosi received unconditional love, healthy food, hygenic surroundings, and a chance to be a happy child in spite of his illness. Much of the book deals with Gail's efforts to educate people about the need for treatment and compassion for AIDS victims. She had a real fight on her hands just trying to enroll Nkosi in school. Together, Nkosi and foster mother Gail became powerful AIDS spokespersons. Nkosi considered it his duty to speak up to try to soften the hearts of government officials and others who could make a real difference in the war against AIDS.
The title of this extremely powerful book is extracted from a speech Nkosi often gave. Everywhere he went Nkosi reminded folks, "We are all the same." Nkosi and Gail appeared on television broadcasts in America and visited New York to give speeches at worldwide conferences. Though Nkosi was born into poverty and disease in a Third World country, he had become famous long before he died at age twelve. His obituary appeared on the front page of many prominent newspapers. The courageous poster child accomplished his mission.
--- Reviewed by Carole Turner
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