Goa’s history with AIDS began in 1989, when the first patient was diagnosed with this illness. The name is now in public domain “ Dominic D’Souza, the 29-year-old worker with the World Wildlife Fund, who despite facing isolation and ostracism, rose to become the HIV positive activist and founded an NGO, ‘Positive People’ to voice the issues of those infected with HIV and to fight for their rights.
It’s been 33 years that this ‘patient zero’ of Goa breathed his last, in 1992 but he will remain a hero for those living with AIDS for being instrumental in changing the laws (that allowed for forced isolation of people with HIV), leading to the amendment of the Goa Public Health Act. Dominic’s legal battle was a precursor to the national HIV and AIDS (Prevention and Control) Act, 2017.
People with HIV-AIDS have the right to treatment and care. There are many in Goa who still suffer isolation and live as shadows, hiding their names, faces and identities. For how long can they suffer discrimination? Isn’t it time that society embraces these innocent souls that got infected for no fault of theirs?
On this backdrop, there’s this young girl Deepti who grew up in the slums of Mangor Hill in the port town living with five siblings, parents, one tiny room, and a thousand struggles she never had the luxury to name. Deepti was the youngest, and the only one born with HIV.
“I didn’t know what that meant at first. I just knew I had to take medicine every day and that I wasn’t allowed to talk about it. Not to friends. Not to teachers. Not even to my neighbours. I learned to swallow pills with silence. But I was only a child. And children slip,” recalls Deepti.
One day in school, she told a teacher she trusted “ “I thought she’d understand. Instead, she recoiled. She refused to touch my notebook. The next week, she told the class to ‘be careful’ around me. That one moment taught me everything about shame ” not the kind that comes from inside you, but the kind that’s handed to you by the world. I stopped talking after that.”
Deepti might have faded completely if the Human Touch Foundation hadn’t entered her life when she was 12. “They didn’t just explain the science of HIV ” they helped stitch the pieces of my self-worth back together. They listened. They stood by me when others wouldn’t. They made space for my dreams,” shares a thankful Deepti.
With their help, she stayed in school, completed a diploma in housekeeping. And now, at 22, Deepti works at a five-star resort in Goa ” a job she loves, one that helps her stand on her own feet. “They never asked for a pre-employment HIV test. If they had, I probably wouldn’t be here. Most top hotels still violate the HIV Workplace Policy, even though it’s illegal. People like me are quietly filtered out. But I got lucky,” smiles Deepti.
So she shows up every day ” early, proud, professional. “I make beds with crisp corners. I carry towels and dignity. No one sees the pills in my purse. No one sees the pain I’ve lived through. But it’s there. And so is the strength,” she asserts.
Deepti still dreams “ of a world where she doesn’t have to hide. She wishes for a time when no child is made to feel dirty for being born with a virus. “I’m not asking for special treatment. I’m just asking to be seen. Because, I am not restricted to what my diagnosis is... I am rising,” she boldly announces.
