Angela's story

My name is Angela and I am a Hutu woman from Burundi. It is one of the very poorest countries in the world, but that doesn’t mean I was unhappy when I was growing up. My family were everything to me.

For a long time there was civil war between my people, the Hutu, and the Tutsi. And when I was a teenager the tension exploded into armed conflict – and worse.

It is very hard for me to tell you this. When I was 17, a gang of Tutsi soldiers stormed into our house with guns, shouting and cursing. They beat my mother in front of me, again and again, laughing and spitting at her. Then they raped me. I cannot put what I felt into words. It was as if someone had torn me in two.

Afterwards they went out to look for my father and my brother, swearing to kill them. I remember my mother holding and rocking me in her arms and whispering that everything was going to be okay. She said we’d go to a place where the soldiers would not find us. So we fled to Rwanda.

Fleeing into a warzone

When we reached Rwanda, we realised war had also come to this place. You never knew when men would suddenly appear, firing guns and screaming for blood. There was no peace. No sanctuary. With horror, I also realised that I was pregnant as a result of the rape.

We walked from village to village, hiding all the time. We had nothing. We had to survive on food given by strangers, little acts of kindness. Perhaps that is why it doesn’t feel strange to ask you for help today.

One day near the border I collapsed and I felt a ripping pain. I knew I was about to give birth. My mother rushed to a nearby house, pleading for help. So a woman came to help me.

The process was long and very hard. I thought my time had come. I’ll never forget the first moment I held my son in my arms, and he looked up into my eyes, smiling. If you are a mother then you will know what I felt. Here was something so small and so frail in a world full of hate.

Losing my parents

When we returned to Burundi, the village was in ruins. When we reached our home, I felt sick with worry. What would we find? We heard someone sobbing and inside found my niece curled up in a ball. She too had been raped. A child.

My father was not there. To this day I do not know what happened to him. He must have been killed, and I hope he rests in peace.

My mother was determined to find him and left me to look for him, promising to return. I never saw her again. Later I was told she had been beaten and killed. My poor poor mother. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of her face, her sweet smile.

Leaving my son

At this time, there was one good thing that I discovered: my brother was alive. A gang had come and killed his wife, but he had survived. There was no time for us to mourn. As soon as we could, we all left for Tanzania but even there we lived every day in fear.

Somehow my brother managed to get me a passport and ticket so I could come to the UK. Leaving them was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I hugged them so tight and I swore that I’d be back soon to take them away from all the violence around them. I just wanted them safe.

Then I boarded the plane for the UK. And that changed my life forever. Since then it has been my sanctuary – the one I was looking for all this time but never ever found. I want you to know that. I want you to know I value the kindness you have shown me. 

Getting sick

Soon after I came here I started feeling tired. I felt terrible. I was sweating at night, burning up. And I felt so cold too. I wasn’t eating and had lost a lot of weight. My feet were swollen too and very painful.

I didn’t know what was wrong, but when I told the doctor he said I should go for an HIV test. He spoke to me in Swahili. He was very concerned.

When I went back to see him, he said, ‘Are you brave Angela, are you strong?’ I said I didn’t know. ‘Can you be brave?’ he repeated and I nodded. So he opened the envelope and told me the result.

I cried out when I heard. I was young and had never been in love. And now I was HIV positive and I thought no-one would ever want to marry me. I wanted to kill myself there and then. How could life be so hard? I sank into a deep depression. I didn’t go out, I could barely talk. What did I have to live for?

My life was saved – by THT

My doctor recommended THT to me. And it was THT that pulled me through. I went to see a THT counsellor and she helped me to realise that life was better than death. I had seen so much death and I needed to see the life going on around me. I needed to believe there was some good on the horizon – and I needed to be strong for my son and niece.

It was such a relief to tell her my story, to share my life, and for her to believe me. That made such a difference. Everything came spilling out in a wave of grief.

After a time, I started going to a THT group made up of women from Africa who were HIV positive. Those women were my lifeline. We shared our problems and our scars. They had seen the same violence I had, and we were all trying to find a way through. Some had turned to drink and drugs – others had tried to kill themselves.

Sadly, too, we had all faced the stigma of having HIV. I was once even turned away from hospital and I know I wasn’t the only one. When that happens you feel like a leper, an outcast that people think they can just forget about. And some people from Africa are not sympathetic, saying we are sinful and deserve to suffer. Being gay is not accepted by some either. People can be very cruel.

There were many many tears – but as we shared our lives and opened our hearts there was laughter too. So I know in my heart what your donation to THT today could mean to someone else who really has lost all hope.

A goodbye and a wonderful reconciliation

My brother, my son and my niece had long since disappeared and the kind people at THT were working with the Red Cross to find them. I had almost given up all hope.

But some years later something incredible happened. I was visiting friends when I met a man who claimed to know my brother. It turned out they’d made it to Uganda. So with all my savings, I flew out to see them. I discovered they were living in a remote village. I rang him and spoke to his girlfriend, who told me my brother was very ill. My heart stopped. ‘Please no, please no…’ I prayed. Please not him too.

The next time I rang, he had died in his sleep. I discovered he had been sick with HIV for a long time.

It was so strange, because when I arrived my son and my niece flew into my arms and I broke down in tears because I was so happy. It was incredible to see my son’s face again and see how much he’d grown. But the same day I had to go to my brother’s funeral. I felt so happy and I felt so sad at the same time.

My son is tested for HIV

When we all came back to the UK there was one thing left I had to do: get my son and niece tested for HIV. Can you imagine the wait for the results? It was agonising.

It was the most wonderful moment in my life when my son tested negative. But my niece – my poor sweet lovely niece – was positive. I felt so bad for her. It remains a heavy load on my heart.

We will probably never meet, but believe me I am a real person who was born halfway across the world, but whose life you have touched forever. My life has been hard, but I feel so lucky we have come to the UK and do not have to spend each day in terror.

Thank you for reading my story and for your kindness.