International Women’s Day

Lord Black of Brentwood Excerpts

Thursday 7th March 2013 Lords Chamber

[Lord Black of Brentwood]

My Lords, I have always believed that it is one of the priceless privileges of our House that we can give a voice to the voiceless. In this excellent debate on International Women’s Day—I join others in thanking my noble friend for securing it—I want to lend my voice to a lady named Florence Ky’eeyse, who lives in a small plot of land on the outskirts of a village called Butale in Uganda. Her story comes to me from a very dear friend who knows her well. Florence is a 35 year-old, educated and dignified woman. She is a widow whose husband died seven years ago and she is bringing up two children—one boy and one girl—on her own.

Life for Florence is increasingly tough. Her late husband’s family keep trying to evict her from the land she inherited when her husband died. A woman’s property rights are often undermined when the husband dies. Bringing up her children is a struggle. She wants them to have a better life than she had, but she cannot afford the tuition fees. Only one child is entitled to free schooling at the mission school. Money is very tight. Her two- acre plot of land would once have supported the family, but in recent years Uganda, which had until recently a very balanced climate, has been suffering from the effects of extreme weather, and the banana trees, which provide the staple food, have been struck with banana wilt, a disease that kills them.

Florence works very hard growing matoke to scrape a living and keeps some chickens. In a good month her income is about 100,000 Ugandan shillings, which is about £25. From this she must keep her children fed, clothed and educated. There is no money for luxuries such as electricity, and water must be fetched from a well. Charcoal, which is increasingly expensive, is the only way to cook, and kerosene is used to light the house. Very occasionally, Florence and her family have some meat, but that is very rare because the chickens are too valuable to consume. While Florence earns 100,000 shillings a month, her outlay just to subsist is 103,000 shillings: a gap that is small but which is getting bigger. That is where the most terrible problem—the one I want to talk about today—bites. Florence has AIDS; she was infected by her late husband. Of her two children, one—her young son—is also HIV positive.

Too many, I fear, believe that the problem with HIV in Africa is getting better because of the increasing availability of antiretrovirals, and indeed there has been some welcome progress. However, Florence’s story tells us something different. There is no medical care in her village. There used to be a small clinic but it closed two years ago. The only place she can get medicine is in Masaka, 12 miles away. That would cost her 1,500 shillings in transport on a boda-boda, a local bicycle taxi: money that she does not often have. The alternative is to walk the 24 miles there and back, which means that she is unable to work on the land to earn money to keep the family, a vicious cycle of poverty and illness.

In short, Florence and her family have no access to life-saving drugs. She takes them irregularly when she can get hold of them, but that irregularity is doing her great harm. She goes to the hospital only when she is desperately ill, which happens all too frequently, because her and her son’s shattered immune systems leave them easy prey to infection. Malaria, too, is a real problem, and frequent bouts of that terrible illness leave them increasingly weakened. Antibiotics are expensive and frequently compromised or out of date.

All that means, I am afraid, is that Florence will die before too long—as I understand it, possibly in the next few months—and her son soon after. Her 14 year- old daughter, instead of completing her education, will have to nurse them, and watch what remains of her kith and kin leave her. It is another hard-working, educated, decent family entangled in an inescapable web of poverty and disease, and destroyed by AIDS.

Florence’s terrible story, replicated in thousands of cases all over Africa, contains one central point that we should remember on International Women’s Day; although there have been major advances in treating HIV and AIDS, many organisations ignore the fact that in the rural areas of Africa it remains next to impossible for those suffering to access the drugs that could save their lives. Even though the drugs are free, the distance and costs involved are beyond their reach. The problems are deeper than that, for women in rural Africa have always worked the land; often they are the primary workers. However, they cannot work the land if they are sick or making long journeys to find care. It is a cycle of despair that consumes them.

A few years back, a UN report on HIV and AIDS among women concluded that,

“one of the apparent cruelties of the HIV/AIDS epidemic is that women are at a biological disadvantage relative to men in terms of contracting the disease”.

Indeed, in sub-Saharan Africa, young women are 205 times more likely to be infected than young men. Little wonder that women now comprise 50% of people living with HIV worldwide. The burdens of stigma, discrimination and marginalisation combine with the harsh economic realities of life that I have just described to create conditions that mean that women such as Florence will continue to die in their tens of thousands. We cannot sit back and watch. It is surely time for a holistic policy approach to the treatment of HIV and AIDS among women in the developing world, one that tackles the problems that prevent them accessing life-saving drugs that those in the developed world take for granted. It is therefore not just about medicine but about infrastructure, transport and money.

I ask my noble friend to ensure that this issue stays close to the top of the Government’s agenda for tackling disease and poverty in the developing world. If the message from this House today and the actions of government within the international community and the NGOs are loud and clear, we could perhaps begin to end this spiral of disaster. To my deep regret, and to the shame of so many, that will be too late for Florence and her son. All I can do for them is send them a copy of the report of this House’s proceedings today and say, “Your voice has been heard”.