From an interview conducted in 2003 published on FEW's
Newsletter Issue No. 2 of Sept. 2005 - Jan.2006
In memory of Buhle Msibi born on 29 June 1981 and passed on
1st April 2005
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Buhle Msibi is an HIV/AIDS activist, a poet, a script writer, a mother, and an outspoken person on lesbian sexuality, sexual health, and sexual rights. Zanele Muholi first interviewed Buhle in August of 2003 in Tembisa, where she lives with her maternal grandparents, both pensioners who respect and accept their grand-daughter’s love for other womyn. At the time of the interview, Buhle was a media student at Rosebank College in Joburg, but has since had to leave college due to financial crisis.

Currently, she is the primary play writer and director for Safrodyke, FEW’s in-house cultural group. She has also contributed her life story and a poem to the Gay and Lesbian Archives (GALA) play Coming Out Again.

Buhle is a force all of her own making, and her diverse life roles and experiences, including being positive, allows her to offer an honest and much needed message to our community about the dangers of remaining ignorant about lesbian sexual health, sexual practices, and HIV/AIDS. We are not immune from the very same virus that is claiming the lives of 1 in 8 South Africans.

What follows are excerpts from the 2003 interview, as well as Buhle’s more recent reflections about her life and her community in her own words, in her own poetry.

It get lonely

As you listen to the tapping of the feet
Creating a rhythm-less sounds
and the song, sang by the hyming sounds
of mmmh - - - - aah and the whispers of help
It becomes clear to one
that it gets lonely with HIV

The taste of pills down the throat
Yet one continues to deteriorate
It get lonely with HIV
Hope and courage vanishes
as the continues to eats one-up
Friends minus with the amount of CD4’4
It get lonely with HIV

BM (2003): I was born in 1981 here in Tembisa and also gave birth to my son in Tembisa Hospital. But before I carry on to tell you about my serious life occurrences I will start with my work. I attended school here in Tembisa, but then dropped out in high school because my parents could not afford my education. Later they had money and I then went to technical school to do N1, N2, N3, which is equivalent to Matric.

I finished technical, and then joined NAPWA as an HIV/AIDS activist since I found out I’m positive. It was in Tembisa branch where I worked, but later I left because of male dominance and discrimination against gays, which was so evident in such a way that people will work for days without getting any stipends allocated for volunteers. Then we had two groups of activists: One led by a positive gay man – I liked that very much because I could feel a sense of belonging. And the other one led by a homophobic Xhosa man, who only recruited people from his original place in East London. I’m sorry to use that language but it was like that. Yet we were all fighting for the common cause. I left the organisation and have not been much involve into politics since then. It was just too much for me!

Going back to times when I was doing Std 9 in 1998. I had a boyfriend who lived not far from my grannies place. We were lovers, and this happened after
I had major identity crisis. I did not have anyone that I could identify with, though I had heard about or had seen women who looked like me. They were not quite friendly to me though, and besides, they thought I was too young to mix with them.

Anyway I had a boyfriend then who kind of protected me from the rough gangs or car thieves in the area. At that time, I did not know much about condoms and contraceptives. I was only 18, he was couple years older than me and seemed to have had experienced so much in life. One day after school we went into his home where we ended up in bed (had sex). At that time one could not differentiate between making love and having sex. We just had it for few minutes – got done – and that was it.

There was not much ]sex] education at the school that I attended, and I never had pep talks with my mom because she lived in another place. You know how difficult it is to talk about sex with old people. It is even worse to seek for advice from friends or to talk about it, because of peer pressure, and they never said anything positive except to say find out for yourself.

So I did not tell my grandparents about the sexual intercourse I had earlier that day with a guy. It had already happened. Two months passed by and I missed my periods - which meant that I was pregnant. My boyfriend knew about it, but was never much interested in me afterwards. By that time, I had lost my virginity, was pregnant, and was feeling lonely. I never told anyone at home about it. You know one cannot keep secret forever. Towards my due date, my granny noticed that there was a bun in the oven, but could not do anything. By that time it was really late for her to vex about it. She had to accept the situation and deal with what was to come.

Two months before I gave birth, the nurses at the hospital took blood tests like they do to some pregnant women. I did not refuse—I was young and vulnerable. There was no counseling given to me during that wait, no processes like pre and post counseling. Three weeks later the results came back positive just at the time the appointment for my baby’s birth was made.

Time passed and my due date came. I was to give birth through caesarean section, but the nurses needed someone to consent for my operation and asked for my guardian who happened to be my grandmother.
They had already put me on oxygen and aesthetic then.

On the 27th of April, 1999 I was admitted to the hospital. My mother and stepfather questioned why I was to be operated on and sterilized. My mother asked the doctor and he told her about my positive status instead. The time for operation arrived and the consent form was not yet signed. The doctor and nurses needed someone urgently for confirmation.

The nurses called my grandmother, and told her over the phone about my HIV positive status. All I remember is that things happened that day. Gave birth to my son. My status was disclosed without my consent. My right to privacy was violated. Through all that, all I needed was to see my baby.

At that moment a thought crossed my mind: The father that once made the child with me was nowhere to be found. But the second thought said: Do not be bothered as long as he is aware of it. I then said to myself maybe his guilty conscience might make him come back to me. To be honest with you that was a joke because brother man never worked. He was self-employed (‘ukuphanda’)— he was a fast guy.
Sometimes it’s cars, if not robbery or whatever… any kind of getting easy stolen goods, I mean’.

Anyway all those thoughts rang in my head as I was lying in the hospital bed. The nurses were screaming at others who were suffering from labour pains. For me, I wanted to run away because I felt that I had disappointed my family. The thought of dying from AIDS was too much. And at the same time, I was questioning where the father of my baby was, but had to let go of that thought as it was late. All I needed to think of was the current status and the baby. A few days later, I was discharged, yet the pain was eating me. My baby was given the vaccine to stop the mother to baby transmission. He is obviously negative.

Days later, the father of my child already heard that I had given birth to a baby boy. He came to see my child [my son], that was done without even paying for damages. You know, in our culture if a guy impregnates a woman, he is bound to pay for damages which is couple of rands. Then he is kind of admitting that he has sinned. It does not mean that he is going to marry that woman. If the woman was still a virgin when that happened, the damage price is more likely to be more than for a woman who has long lost her girlhood.

Without any issues he looked excited the day he came, and at first I did not have the guts to tell him about my status. Besides, I was still too weak to break such news then. His excitement also did not mean that he was saying we were reconciling.

His action was that of a person who goes to shop, to look at an item that might be of interest to him, and then to vanish. The climax of the story is that he never supported his son

I don’t know how I got it [HIV] exactly. All I know is that I practiced unprotected straight sex.

The positive silence

Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!
Positive!

The list is endless

Q: Positive what?
A: Positive thinking, positive people, positive attitude, positive living, and mostly Positive lesbian
women and then negative short minded /ignorant dykes.
Q: What do you mean?
A: Voetsek wena, don’t pretend as if you don’t know what I’m talking about
Q: What exactly are you saying because I don’t know?
A: I’m saying people are positive everywhere – lesbians are dying out there whilst others are
simple coming out with their HIV positive status.
No femme doms are available for protection, whereas others are having sex every minute
without helping themselves to avoid the possibilities of catching this pandemic.
No lesbian or gay rights can force them to take precautions or the vulnerable ones avoid it. It
can be preached all over the show that people should play safe but I don’t think that is done.
Q: What?
A: I’m positive so as - - - - - (I won’t mention other names). We about 10 or more positive gay
women that only a few of us know each other but for sure there is hundred of them it is just that others are not out yet with their status.

BM (2006): Living in the city, surrounded by crime and many horrible things that happen daily, and the negative news on gays that we read about in newspapers.
Gays this, gays that …gays are the AIDS carriers, all that nonsense! Now lately in the media, it’s: Lesbians that …The reality is gay women are coming out in the open with their lesbianism plus their HIV positive status. Not as a movement as such. However, as either HIV/AIDS activists or socialists, we educating others about this epidemic. In this country we have to count a few like Priscilla Mashifane of Kwa-Thema, Lamor Makua, Paddy Nhlapo, they are all those who inspires me.
My son is now doing his second level in primary school. I have survived opportunistic infections caused by HIV. I have since started taking ARV’s and from time to time they seem to be friendly with me. Sometimes though, it is so irritating to think of taking these pills everyday and especially the thought that my life is depending on them.

But what can one do because I want to live longer and see my son growing.

When I did the interview [with Zanele], my intentions were to change the attitudes of people, especially the members of our community, “lesbians,” towards people with chronic infections (illnesses). Yet it has been three years now, and the gossiping has not yet ended. Most of us are wrapped up in issues of acceptance, hate crimes, same sex marriage, etc. But we walk around as if we are immune to illnesses. The struggle has changed and grown—we need to accept that illness is claiming our lives, not only HIV/AIDS, but also TB, Cancer, and the like.

While I lay in my hospital bed recently, I realised that not all people who smile with you are your friends. I can count the faces and voices of people who came and called. Where were my friends? That is a rhetorical question.

Gay women in South Africa are now more vocal about their status. However, others feel that it is useless to disclose because there is a lot that comes with the package. Some still face discrimination and rejection from their families. Others get support from other people like Prudence.
There are still those who gossip about people with this virus forgetting that it can hit on them or their families too. I propose that each and everyone of us take leadership in our area of operation. I challenge people to talk about HIV/AIDS, and not to gossip.

Recently, one ignorant woman asked me, “How can a lesbian be positive when they claim not to have sex with men?” Due to the anger I felt, my response was: “None of your business.” I was hurt, because I know the pain of having a sister who has the same disease.

We, as lesbians, are either infected or affected and we really can’t pretend as if we are safe. As people who can just as easily get the virus, we need to play safe, and try by all means to use anything that might be helpful for prevention. Even a balloon can substitute for a dental dam. I know it might sound like a cliché, but it’s true.
There are lesbians who like to cheat. Chicken business is the hot potato (that is a slang used when a woman is having sex with another woman). To check if one is a lesbo, you ask her if she eats fish or steak (meaning that the woman does men only/ straight woman) or both (meaning a bisexual woman). Players or cheaters are proud of the number of women they sleep with just to break the record of being a “Casanova”. There is often no love at all – it is just sex, sex, sex without any protection. And when asked if they have practiced any safe sex, all they do is stare like zombies.

In most townships there are no workshops that are specifically made for lesbians. The safer sex workshops there are only for straights. Yet, I know of more than 10 lesbians who are positive and so alive. Their status does not mean that by being HIV positive, they need to box themselves in their own closets. They are part and parcel of our community. We sleep with them, we laugh with them, we share them.

Others have the wrong perception that positive gay women have bags of money because of the funding they get to run AIDS related organisations. To me, that is pure exploitation. For others, that is how they boost their status. They tend to forget that they might die before the diagnosed person maybe in an accident or any other way.

Some are bombarded with their multiple-closet status: of being positive, of being a lesbian, of being a lesbian mother. The criticism that one faces are also terrible on their own. Some womyn just cannot cope, and they try to find an easier way out and become alcoholics. But, this makes things even worse, because that shortens one’s life span.

As I have said before, whether he is the one who infected me or not, I can’t blame him now. What happened, happened, and now is now. One can’t leave with the past forever—things have to move on. What now matters most is the future of my son. And also that I have to deal with, and nurse, my virus rather than to point fingers at someone.

At the clinic they gave me counseling which made me live positively today.
I gave my son the name of Nkosana which means (first boy born at home) and it also means the Chief’s son.
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With Buhle’s story, we are trying to make a statement that there are so many lesbians who are positive. Yet, very few lesbians speak openly about HIV/AIDS as they fear the rejection by this community. They say ‘Do kiss and tell.’ Can you imagine how many of us sleep with other women without taking precautions, let alone even talking about the possibilities of picking up STI’s from other womyn?

In SA, the government is not distributing dental dams for free as they do condoms for the hets, and there is nothing for women loving women protection. We wish that in future, we could have lesbian gynecologist(s) to design barrier methods in order to protect so many ignorant people.

All this reminds me of our recent visit to LoveLife (which deals with prevention), where one of their information managers told a group of 14 lesbians that she did not know what a dental dam is, nor did she have any information on lesbian safer sex. This is after 5 years of FEW’s existence, and 9 years after our Constitution guaranteed a life free of sexual, gender, and sexual orientation discrimination!

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