Donor
mistrust multiplies Zimbabwe Aids losses
By
Sharon LaFraniere
MABVUKU,
Zimbabwe Edson Muchenjekwa says he spent three weeks persuading Alista
Bhero to overcome her rage at her husband, Khemist, for infecting her
with HIV, which has rendered her all but immobile at 42. He does not
intend to waste her time discussing a treatment.
.
In Zimbabwe, where 1.8 million people are HIV positive and 360,000 need
life-prolonging antiretroviral drugs, virtually the only ones who get
them are the 5,000 who can afford them. The Bheros are not among that
select few.
.
So instead, said Muchenjekwa, a local charity worker, he will help the
Bheros draft a will disposing of their home, a four-room concrete-block
cube in this teeming township outside Harare, Zimbabwe's capital. Then
he will try to steel them to tell the six Bhero children that they are
about to become orphans.
.
He does not relish the task. "It is not easy to face death,"
he said.
.
In fact, the Bhero family is facing the sort of tragedy that unfolds
daily throughout southern Africa, the region hardest hit by a growing
AIDS epidemic. Zimbabwe, however, is different. Relief workers estimate
that fewer than 1,000 Zimbabweans receive antiretroviral drugs free
through government or charitable programs, with little hope of expanding
that number.
.
Every neighboring country is giving antiretrovirals to two to 15 times
as many people and planning to expand treatment to tens of thousands
more within a year.
.
The principal reason Zimbabwe is falling behind is that President Robert
Mugabe's increasingly repressive government has lost foreign donors'
trust that it will fairly or honestly channel money for antiretroviral
drugs to those who need it. Major foreign supporters in the battle against
the disease - the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria,
the World Bank, the United States and Britain - are skirting Zimbabwe
or giving it a trickle of aid compared with the torrent they are unleashing
on governments they deem more reliable.
.
That, many in Zimbabwe say, poses a wrenching question: Is it right
to withhold lifesaving aid from a population because its rulers are
viewed as likely to manipulate that aid for political ends - or worse,
to steal it?
.
In Zimbabwe, where roughly one in four adults is infected with HIV and
more than 2,500 people a week die of AIDS, relief workers do not consider
the question academic.
.
The plight of this nation of more than 11 million people is evident
at Harare Central Hospital, where workers say just 23 patients are receiving
antiretroviral treatment and no more can be started until next year
because of lack on money. It is obvious at the Parirenyatwa city hospital,
where, local news reports say, the morgue reeks of bodies of AIDS victims
whose relatives cannot afford to bury them.
.
And it can be seen at one seven-year-old cemetery south of Harare, where
more than 14,000 people have already been buried, and workers say they
dig about 25 graves each day.
.
On the crowded, trash-strewn streets of Mabvuku, Muchenjekwa said, 50
people a day go to Island Hospice, where he works, to seek help for
the dying.
.
A neighbor, he said, alerted the organization to the Bheros' case.
.
Alista Bhero tried to sum up the situation last week in her tiny living
room, her 2-year-old son on her lap: "Our life is just falling
apart. We don't know what to do. We are panicking."
.
So, to some degree, are Zimbabwean health officials. Last month, they
lost in a bid for $218 million from the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis
and Malaria. One United Nations official said evaluations had raised
concerns, including whether Zimbabwe's government could be trusted to
enlist independent groups in its AIDS fight.
.
"I am very angry about it because many people are going to die
because of these heartless people," David Parirenyatwa, Zimbabwe's
minister of health, said in an interview last month with The Standard,
an independent weekly.
.
The government has refused to comment to foreign reporters.
.
Officials from the Global Fund and other relief agencies say heartlessness
has nothing to do with it. Rather, they say, they are trying to save
as many lives as possible without channeling money to untrustworthy
governments. Critics of Mugabe note that his government has persecuted
political opponents, all but shut down the independent news media and
seized land from white farmers, shriveling farm output and driving the
economy into the ground.
.
"They are not spending their money well, so why would they spend
ours well?" asked a European diplomat whose government had restricted
aid.
.
The Bush administration came to much the same conclusion, excluding
Zimbabwe last year from the president's five-year, $15-billion emergency
AIDS plan, which focuses on 12 African countries, plus Haiti, Vietnam
and Guyana.
.
The United States is spending just $20 million a year to battle AIDS
in Zimbabwe, one-third less than it has devoted to Botswana, a nation
with less than one-sixth Zimbabwe's population. The British government
gives about $11 million a year - and would give more, a spokesman suggested,
if Mugabe made political and economic changes.
.
The World Bank, which has granted more than $1 billion to other African
countries to fight AIDS, pulled out of Zimbabwe four years ago after
the government defaulted on its debts. So did the International Monetary
Fund and the Danes, who had given millions every year to humanitarian
and development projects in Zimbabwe.
.
But it was the rejection from the Global Fund, designed to pool contributions
from all foreign donors and to distribute them apolitically, that brought
home Zimbabwe's isolation. Zimbabwe sought money to provide antiretroviral
drugs to 70,000 people - less than one-fifth of those in need.
.
Although Global Fund officials insisted that the rejection was not politically
motivated and could be appealed, many relief workers in Zimbabwe took
it as a sign that international donors had dealt Zimbabwe a death sentence.
.
"I personally feel this is very unfair," said Bernard Mokam,
local program director for the United Nations' development agency. "I
personally do not comprehend that the donor community could continue
to refuse to support people in need for political reasons. HIV-AIDS
should be dealt with as a humanitarian issue. This is just unacceptable."
| "The
principal reason Zimbabwe is falling behind is that President Robert
Mugabe's increasingly repressive government has lost foreign donors'
trust" |
| Sharon
LaFraniere |
Still, no one, including
Mokam, disputes that Zimbabwe's government is making life difficult
for donors and the charities they subsidize even when, as in the case
of AIDS, the government pledges its full cooperation. Fear that the
government will misspend the money has delayed release of a $10 million
AIDS grant from the Global Fund that was approved two years ago.
.
That sort of mistrust permeates relations between the government and
outsiders seeking to help it. For example, Mugabe's government not only
forced the United Nations in the spring to scale back a general feeding
program that has sustained millions during three years of crop failures,
but it barred UN specialists from measuring the fall harvest that ended
in June.
.
The government insists a bumper crop will more than cover the nation's
needs. But foreign specialists say they suspect that Mugabe is reducing
foreign food aid in advance of next year's national election so that
he can reward supporters with warehoused stocks of government corn,
and withhold it from opponents.
.
Mugabe also keeps nongovernmental organizations on a short leash - and
intends to restrain them further. Zimbabwe's few remaining donors of
drugs and medical services tend to bypass the Harare government by channeling
AIDS donations to local nongovernmental organizations or giving them
directly to clinics or laboratories. But in July, Mugabe announced that
the government would rein in nongovernmental organizations that are
"conduits or instruments of interference in our national affairs."
.
The New York Times MABVUKU, Zimbabwe Edson Muchenjekwa says he spent
three weeks persuading Alista Bhero to overcome her rage at her husband,
Khemist, for infecting her with HIV, which has rendered her all but
immobile at 42. He does not intend to waste her time discussing a treatment.
.
In Zimbabwe, where 1.8 million people are HIV positive and 360,000 need
life-prolonging antiretroviral drugs, virtually the only ones who get
them are the 5,000 who can afford them. The Bheros are not among that
select few.
.
So instead, said Muchenjekwa, a local charity worker, he will help the
Bheros draft a will disposing of their home, a four-room concrete-block
cube in this teeming township outside Harare, Zimbabwe's capital. Then
he will try to steel them to tell the six Bhero children that they are
about to become orphans.
.
He does not relish the task. "It is not easy to face death,"
he said.
.
In fact, the Bhero family is facing the sort of tragedy that unfolds
daily throughout southern Africa, the region hardest hit by a growing
AIDS epidemic. Zimbabwe, however, is different. Relief workers estimate
that fewer than 1,000 Zimbabweans receive antiretroviral drugs free
through government or charitable programs, with little hope of expanding
that number.
.
Every neighboring country is giving antiretrovirals to two to 15 times
as many people and planning to expand treatment to tens of thousands
more within a year.
.
The principal reason Zimbabwe is falling behind is that President Robert
Mugabe's increasingly repressive government has lost foreign donors'
trust that it will fairly or honestly channel money for antiretroviral
drugs to those who need it. Major foreign supporters in the battle against
the disease - the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria,
the World Bank, the United States and Britain - are skirting Zimbabwe
or giving it a trickle of aid compared with the torrent they are unleashing
on governments they deem more reliable.
.
That, many in Zimbabwe say, poses a wrenching question: Is it right
to withhold lifesaving aid from a population because its rulers are
viewed as likely to manipulate that aid for political ends - or worse,
to steal it?
.
In Zimbabwe, where roughly one in four adults is infected with HIV and
more than 2,500 people a week die of AIDS, relief workers do not consider
the question academic.
.
The plight of this nation of more than 11 million people is evident
at Harare Central Hospital, where workers say just 23 patients are receiving
antiretroviral treatment and no more can be started until next year
because of lack on money. It is obvious at the Parirenyatwa city hospital,
where, local news reports say, the morgue reeks of bodies of AIDS victims
whose relatives cannot afford to bury them.
.
And it can be seen at one seven-year-old cemetery south of Harare, where
more than 14,000 people have already been buried, and workers say they
dig about 25 graves each day.
.
On the crowded, trash-strewn streets of Mabvuku, Muchenjekwa said, 50
people a day go to Island Hospice, where he works, to seek help for
the dying.
.
A neighbor, he said, alerted the organization to the Bheros' case.
.
Alista Bhero tried to sum up the situation last week in her tiny living
room, her 2-year-old son on her lap: "Our life is just falling
apart. We don't know what to do. We are panicking."
.
So, to some degree, are Zimbabwean health officials. Last month, they
lost in a bid for $218 million from the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis
and Malaria. One United Nations official said evaluations had raised
concerns, including whether Zimbabwe's government could be trusted to
enlist independent groups in its AIDS fight.
.
"I am very angry about it because many people are going to die
because of these heartless people," David Parirenyatwa, Zimbabwe's
minister of health, said in an interview last month with The Standard,
an independent weekly.
.
The government has refused to comment to foreign reporters.
.
Officials from the Global Fund and other relief agencies say heartlessness
has nothing to do with it. Rather, they say, they are trying to save
as many lives as possible without channeling money to untrustworthy
governments. Critics of Mugabe note that his government has persecuted
political opponents, all but shut down the independent news media and
seized land from white farmers, shriveling farm output and driving the
economy into the ground.
.
"They are not spending their money well, so why would they spend
ours well?" asked a European diplomat whose government had restricted
aid.
.
The Bush administration came to much the same conclusion, excluding
Zimbabwe last year from the president's five-year, $15-billion emergency
AIDS plan, which focuses on 12 African countries, plus Haiti, Vietnam
and Guyana.
.
The United States is spending just $20 million a year to battle AIDS
in Zimbabwe, one-third less than it has devoted to Botswana, a nation
with less than one-sixth Zimbabwe's population. The British government
gives about $11 million a year - and would give more, a spokesman suggested,
if Mugabe made political and economic changes.
.
The World Bank, which has granted more than $1 billion to other African
countries to fight AIDS, pulled out of Zimbabwe four years ago after
the government defaulted on its debts. So did the International Monetary
Fund and the Danes, who had given millions every year to humanitarian
and development projects in Zimbabwe.
.
But it was the rejection from the Global Fund, designed to pool contributions
from all foreign donors and to distribute them apolitically, that brought
home Zimbabwe's isolation. Zimbabwe sought money to provide antiretroviral
drugs to 70,000 people - less than one-fifth of those in need.
.
Although Global Fund officials insisted that the rejection was not politically
motivated and could be appealed, many relief workers in Zimbabwe took
it as a sign that international donors had dealt Zimbabwe a death sentence.
.
"I personally feel this is very unfair," said Bernard Mokam,
local program director for the United Nations' development agency. "I
personally do not comprehend that the donor community could continue
to refuse to support people in need for political reasons. HIV-AIDS
should be dealt with as a humanitarian issue. This is just unacceptable."
.
Still, no one, including Mokam, disputes that Zimbabwe's government
is making life difficult for donors and the charities they subsidize
even when, as in the case of AIDS, the government pledges its full cooperation.
Fear that the government will misspend the money has delayed release
of a $10 million AIDS grant from the Global Fund that was approved two
years ago.
.
That sort of mistrust permeates relations between the government and
outsiders seeking to help it. For example, Mugabe's government not only
forced the United Nations in the spring to scale back a general feeding
program that has sustained millions during three years of crop failures,
but it barred UN specialists from measuring the fall harvest that ended
in June.
.
The government insists a bumper crop will more than cover the nation's
needs. But foreign specialists say they suspect that Mugabe is reducing
foreign food aid in advance of next year's national election so that
he can reward supporters with warehoused stocks of government corn,
and withhold it from opponents.
.
Mugabe also keeps nongovernmental organizations on a short leash - and
intends to restrain them further. Zimbabwe's few remaining donors of
drugs and medical services tend to bypass the Harare government by channeling
AIDS donations to local nongovernmental organizations or giving them
directly to clinics or laboratories. But in July, Mugabe announced that
the government would rein in nongovernmental organizations that are
"conduits or instruments of interference in our national affairs."
.
The New York Times MABVUKU, Zimbabwe Edson Muchenjekwa says he spent
three weeks persuading Alista Bhero to overcome her rage at her husband,
Khemist, for infecting her with HIV, which has rendered her all but
immobile at 42. He does not intend to waste her time discussing a treatment.
.
In Zimbabwe, where 1.8 million people are HIV positive and 360,000 need
life-prolonging antiretroviral drugs, virtually the only ones who get
them are the 5,000 who can afford them. The Bheros are not among that
select few.
.
So instead, said Muchenjekwa, a local charity worker, he will help the
Bheros draft a will disposing of their home, a four-room concrete-block
cube in this teeming township outside Harare, Zimbabwe's capital. Then
he will try to steel them to tell the six Bhero children that they are
about to become orphans.
.
He does not relish the task. "It is not easy to face death,"
he said.
.
In fact, the Bhero family is facing the sort of tragedy that unfolds
daily throughout southern Africa, the region hardest hit by a growing
AIDS epidemic. Zimbabwe, however, is different. Relief workers estimate
that fewer than 1,000 Zimbabweans receive antiretroviral drugs free
through government or charitable programs, with little hope of expanding
that number.
.
Every neighboring country is giving antiretrovirals to two to 15 times
as many people and planning to expand treatment to tens of thousands
more within a year.
.
The principal reason Zimbabwe is falling behind is that President Robert
Mugabe's increasingly repressive government has lost foreign donors'
trust that it will fairly or honestly channel money for antiretroviral
drugs to those who need it. Major foreign supporters in the battle against
the disease - the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria,
the World Bank, the United States and Britain - are skirting Zimbabwe
or giving it a trickle of aid compared with the torrent they are unleashing
on governments they deem more reliable.
.
That, many in Zimbabwe say, poses a wrenching question: Is it right
to withhold lifesaving aid from a population because its rulers are
viewed as likely to manipulate that aid for political ends - or worse,
to steal it?
.
In Zimbabwe, where roughly one in four adults is infected with HIV and
more than 2,500 people a week die of AIDS, relief workers do not consider
the question academic.
.
The plight of this nation of more than 11 million people is evident
at Harare Central Hospital, where workers say just 23 patients are receiving
antiretroviral treatment and no more can be started until next year
because of lack on money. It is obvious at the Parirenyatwa city hospital,
where, local news reports say, the morgue reeks of bodies of AIDS victims
whose relatives cannot afford to bury them.
.
And it can be seen at one seven-year-old cemetery south of Harare, where
more than 14,000 people have already been buried, and workers say they
dig about 25 graves each day.
.
On the crowded, trash-strewn streets of Mabvuku, Muchenjekwa said, 50
people a day go to Island Hospice, where he works, to seek help for
the dying.
.
A neighbor, he said, alerted the organization to the Bheros' case.
.
Alista Bhero tried to sum up the situation last week in her tiny living
room, her 2-year-old son on her lap: "Our life is just falling
apart. We don't know what to do. We are panicking."
.
So, to some degree, are Zimbabwean health officials. Last month, they
lost in a bid for $218 million from the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis
and Malaria. One United Nations official said evaluations had raised
concerns, including whether Zimbabwe's government could be trusted to
enlist independent groups in its AIDS fight.
.
"I am very angry about it because many people are going to die
because of these heartless people," David Parirenyatwa, Zimbabwe's
minister of health, said in an interview last month with The Standard,
an independent weekly.
.
The government has refused to comment to foreign reporters.
.
Officials from the Global Fund and other relief agencies say heartlessness
has nothing to do with it. Rather, they say, they are trying to save
as many lives as possible without channeling money to untrustworthy
governments. Critics of Mugabe note that his government has persecuted
political opponents, all but shut down the independent news media and
seized land from white farmers, shriveling farm output and driving the
economy into the ground.
.
"They are not spending their money well, so why would they spend
ours well?" asked a European diplomat whose government had restricted
aid.
.
The Bush administration came to much the same conclusion, excluding
Zimbabwe last year from the president's five-year, $15-billion emergency
AIDS plan, which focuses on 12 African countries, plus Haiti, Vietnam
and Guyana.
.
The United States is spending just $20 million a year to battle AIDS
in Zimbabwe, one-third less than it has devoted to Botswana, a nation
with less than one-sixth Zimbabwe's population. The British government
gives about $11 million a year - and would give more, a spokesman suggested,
if Mugabe made political and economic changes.
.
The World Bank, which has granted more than $1 billion to other African
countries to fight AIDS, pulled out of Zimbabwe four years ago after
the government defaulted on its debts. So did the International Monetary
Fund and the Danes, who had given millions every year to humanitarian
and development projects in Zimbabwe.
.
But it was the rejection from the Global Fund, designed to pool contributions
from all foreign donors and to distribute them apolitically, that brought
home Zimbabwe's isolation. Zimbabwe sought money to provide antiretroviral
drugs to 70,000 people - less than one-fifth of those in need.
.
Although Global Fund officials insisted that the rejection was not politically
motivated and could be appealed, many relief workers in Zimbabwe took
it as a sign that international donors had dealt Zimbabwe a death sentence.
.
"I personally feel this is very unfair," said Bernard Mokam,
local program director for the United Nations' development agency. "I
personally do not comprehend that the donor community could continue
to refuse to support people in need for political reasons. HIV-AIDS
should be dealt with as a humanitarian issue. This is just unacceptable."
.
Still, no one, including Mokam, disputes that Zimbabwe's government
is making life difficult for donors and the charities they subsidize
even when, as in the case of AIDS, the government pledges its full cooperation.
Fear that the government will misspend the money has delayed release
of a $10 million AIDS grant from the Global Fund that was approved two
years ago.
.
That sort of mistrust permeates relations between the government and
outsiders seeking to help it. For example, Mugabe's government not only
forced the United Nations in the spring to scale back a general feeding
program that has sustained millions during three years of crop failures,
but it barred UN specialists from measuring the fall harvest that ended
in June.
.
The government insists a bumper crop will more than cover the nation's
needs. But foreign specialists say they suspect that Mugabe is reducing
foreign food aid in advance of next year's national election so that
he can reward supporters with warehoused stocks of government corn,
and withhold it from opponents.
.
Mugabe also keeps nongovernmental organizations on a short leash - and
intends to restrain them further. Zimbabwe's few remaining donors of
drugs and medical services tend to bypass the Harare government by channeling
AIDS donations to local nongovernmental organizations or giving them
directly to clinics or laboratories. But in July, Mugabe announced that
the government would rein in nongovernmental organizations that are
"conduits or instruments of interference in our national affairs."
The New York Times
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