As an African woman directly affected by and working daily on the front line of the AIDS pandemic in Zambia, my home country, I look to America as a nation of hope. In America, contrary to most of Africa, people can live well into their 80s, get a decent education, have multiple careers and receive quality medical care.

So I was shocked and saddened to learn from a recent study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that AIDS is among the three top causes of death for African-American women between the ages 35 to 44.

Even more startling was the fact that in 2003, the rate of new AIDS cases for black women was 20 times that of white women. That female face of the epidemic parallels the situation in Africa, where 60 percent of HIV-positive adults are women.

Why, I asked myself, is HIV more prevalent among different groups of people in the United States, one of the richest countries in the world? And why, just as in Africa, are black women disproportionately affected by this epidemic? The curse that afflicts African women as well as our black sisters in the United States is fueled by something pretty straightforward: poverty. It is no secret that AIDS thrives in situations of high socio-economic vulnerability, a condition that influences behavior, disease and risk.

The study published by the CDC found that black women infected with the AIDS virus in the U.S. are more likely to be unemployed and willing to trade sex for drugs or money than uninfected black women. Specifically, it found that 71 percent of those who were infected did not have a job, compared with 38 percent of those uninfected. And in America, not having a job often means not having medical insurance, thus minimizing visits to the doctor or hospitals.

In Africa, where unemployment is rampant, many women are economically dependent on their husbands, thus making it harder to leave in situations of abuse or exploitation. Culture and tradition also undermine women’s status in society, deprive them of the power to decide about their own sexual relationships, and discourage open discussions about sexuality and ways of preventing HIV/AIDS.

Women and girls, both in Africa and in the U.S., also bear the brunt of the impact of the pandemic. They are more likely to take care of sick people or orphans, to lose jobs, income and schooling as a result of illness and to face stigma and discrimination. Moreover, without access to safe and adequate food, people are less likely to respond effectively to AIDS treatment.

So what can we do to empower women both in the United States and in Africa so that they can better protect themselves against AIDS? To begin, we must address the unequal power relationships that exist between men and women, the outcome of which make women more vulnerable to HIV infection.

When women depend on others to survive and to protect their own health, they are less likely to assert themselves and to demand respect from their partners and peers.

Education and the capacity to earn a decent living can empower women on both sides of the Atlantic. However, creating economic opportunities does not mean relegating women to low paying jobs.

It entails ensuring that they have access to employment opportunities, income, productive resources and credit for their own business ventures. The woman’s movement has demonstrated that economic empowerment leads to social and political empowerment. Dependency, on the other hand, breeds social and political exclusion.

Because poverty fuels HIV/AIDS, it is important to tackle this epidemic in a comprehensive manner rather than through a clinical lens only. The magnitude of this crisis demands a long-term response that not only ensures the availability of life-saving medical care but addresses the social factors that contribute to the spread of HIV and the stigma associated with it. At the community level, in Africa and in the U.S., we must enhance women’s leadership capacity, facilitate the creation of support groups, and increase women’s access to viable economic resources.

It is clear to me that there is not much difference between a woman from Zambia and a black woman in America. We both seek healthier lives for ourselves and our families, and we both are entitled to a chance to overcome poverty.

Doras Chirwa is the HIV/AIDS coordinator for CARE Zambia. Like many other African women, she has been directly affected by the AIDS pandemic. After losing several siblings to the disease, she is now taking care of four more children in addition to her own three. She spoke at the University of Southern Maine on March 10.

Copy the Story Link