'Donald illness' causing widespread health issues
Hey there, bud! How's life treating you? I'm just... you know, surviving.
Tons of chaos going around, and I've been hearing about it from folks like our friend Nkosi over here. He's spilling the beans in a voicemail to Bhekisisa, one of many we've gotten recently.
Nkosi, by the way, is a secret gay dude living in a small town. He's into the gentler sex, and he does it without condoms because he feels judged and stigmatized when he tries to get them from the local clinic. Now, you might be wondering - what's the deal with his line of work? Well, let me just say it's not exactly mainstream.
You see, ever since US President Donald Trump's administration slashed most of their HIV funding in February, things have become perilous for Nkosi and others like him.
Researchers call 'em a "key population" in the HIV world, which, in layman's terms, means they're a crucial part of the equation. The reasons? Chiefly, because new HIV infections disproportionately happen within these groups.
So, who are these key populations? Well, they include:
- Gay and bisexual men like Nkosi
- Transgender individuals
- People who inject drugs
- Young women and girls between the ages of 15 and 24, particularly in Africa
Pepfar, the US President's Emergency Plan for Aids Relief, has historically poured most of its funds into programs working with these groups. But now, the special clinics supporting them - 12, to be exact - have shuttered.
Gone, too, are the healthcare workers trained to work without discrimination, the tailor-made HIV treatment and testing services, the specialized mental health support, and the condoms and lubricants those clinics provided. Also, adios to the two-monthly anti-HIV injections and the daily anti-HIV pills.
Now, you might think, "Government clinics stock those pills, right?" Well, yes, but remember Nkosi? According to research, people like him are often mistreated at state clinics, making them hesitant to return.
Preventive medicines like these daily pills are called pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), and they work by preventing HIV from penetrating someone's cells.
"Sometimes I don't have PrEP," confesses Nkosi. "A partner could claim he's on PrEP, but I can't always trust that. Where would I get it from? The black market? It's a gamble - the stuff could be counterfeit."
As for protection, Nkosi says he uses anything he can find with jelly as lube. The last time he did that? One week of itchy bits below the belt.
Nkosi calls the fallout from the Trump administration's funding decisions "the Donald disease," because it's wreaking havoc on folks like him.
"It's like crossing a busy highway every day - one day, I know I'm going to get hit," he says.
Wait, what about those key populations?
Health Minister Aaron Motsoaledi held a press conference back in May to address the crisis. Eight out of his 18 facts centered around ensuring patients from those specialized clinics - a whopping 63,300 individuals - received care and had their records transferred to nearby government facilities.
- I'm concerned about Nkosi's sexual health due to his lack of access to condoms and prevention methods like PrEP, which are crucial for individuals like him who are part of the key populations at risk of HIV infection.
- Mental health support is equally important for Nkosi and others in his situation, considering the stigma and discrimination they face, making it essential for health systems to address mental health needs along with physical health.
