In another twist involving the public protector’s office‚ the Minister of Co-operative Governance an.
HE ghastly weather we are experiencing is the kind that sends a chill down my shivering spine.
It has been terribly cold and I cannot help but feel somewhat subdued and obviously intimidated by the unwavering icy weather.
It is on days like this that I think that even slaves deserve a reprieve of some sort.
Needless to say we also know that the lives of millions of destitute and homeless people are held to ransom by this thankless virus every day.
I cannot begin to count the lives of people living with HIV that have been lost owing to exposure to such uncompromisingly brutal and indiscriminate weather conditions.
But as human beings in general, and as people living with HIV and anyone else whose immune system is compromised in particular, we must learn to cope with and adjust to these unfavourable conditions.
After all, we have argued for and continue to advocate equal rights and all that jazz, so we must accept the bitter with the sweet.
Suffice to say that all of us must be advised to take the necessary precautions in terms of taking extra care of ourselves and each other.
I have in many instances seen people living with HIV so determined to prove themselves that I often wonder what this self-imposed pressure is about or where it comes from so strongly that it might even be termed unintended suicide.
Not that I have been exempt from this superficial tendency to wish to exceed anything else that everyone does simply to illustrate that I am as capable and as hard working as all of us should be.
As a person living with HIV there seems to be a burning desire to outperform, outthink and outdo critics and prophets of doom who might be tempted to think or believe that we are worth far less than others purely because of our condition.
There was a crucial point in my life when I was on the brink of death - simply because I wanted to accomplish so much and set about it with uncommon fervour.
I was under the illusion that the the time left me was so limited that I worked tirelessly.
I travelled extensively. I met so many people, I attended so many conferences. I spoke at so many public gatherings.
I toyi-toyied and sang and cried in the crime-ridden streets.
I visited other people living with HIV in their shacks, in hospitals and in death-stained hospices.
As is be predictable, In nearly lost my life in the process of such noble commitment and dedication to the cause, not once but three times, because I simply forgot to take sufficient care of my own s oul and body.
In other words, it is imperative that we all take care of our health and wellbeing to be well oiled and effective messengers of the humanitarian gospel.
Even the engine of the most dilapidated car needs proper and timely service to ensure optimum performance.