"The same month my partner passed away, I was told my baby had HIV," Florence Ngobeni told me a few moments after we met at Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital in Soweto, South Africa. "And I learned I was infected because of the child." Two months later, her daughter died. Now a counselor in the prenatal clinic at Chris Hani, Ngobeni has become one of a lucky few--in many ways. Many Africans face a horrendous stigma when their families learn they are infected with HIV. "I divulged my HIV status, and the family reaction brought us together," said Ngobeni. Her job at Chris Hani, which she started a few months after her daughter's death, gave her access to a potent cocktail of anti-HIV drugs. Her CD4 count jumped from 201 to 531, the lower end of normal, and the most sensitive tests no longer can detect virus in her blood. If she lived in the United States or Europe, no one would notice: She looks like most HIV-infected people who receive state-of-the-art treatment. But here, she is in the tiniest minority group--and it infuriates her. "Pharmaceutical companies can bring down prices and still make a profit," she complained. I asked her what she planned to do. "I've learned through Mandela's slogan," she said. "You don't fight, you sit down."

(Photograph by Malcolm Linton)

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