World AIDS Day

He called my name and I knew exactly what he was going to ask me - even before I saw him standing and smirking next to the microphone.

As I approached Tarun, the WBVHA Program Director, he said, "Hannah, can you speak … about HIV/AIDS, World AIDS Day, blood tests, condoms, whatever … just for five minutes." I let out an exasperated laugh in protest, and searched the eyes of my fellow staff members for salvation, but there was no escape. After a pause, I heard myself agree. Then my legs slowly pulled me to center stage.

I looked out behind the microphone at my intended audience. For December 1st, the WBVHA had constructed a large white-and-blue pandal to serve as our awareness stall for World AIDS Day at the New Jailpaguri (NJP) Railway Station in Siliguri. Every square foot of the NJP parking area was filled with competing drivers, their resting vehicles, and the luggage of weary travelers. The air was heavy with engine exhaust. The crowd for our stall had dwindled as the late afternoon approached, but the many people coming or going from NJP were dangerously within earshot of our blarring speakers.

Earlier that morning, the WBVHA had organized a march around NJP station with signs that sought to de-stigmatize sexual protection, expose the myths around HIV/AIDS, and encourage more community wide awareness of the virus. Along with many familiar faces of HIV positive program participants and their families, a majority of those in attendance were from local NGOs or drivers from the nearby truck driver union. The march route had been strategically drawn up to pass by this union office next to NJP station as truck drivers are classified as a "bridge population" for the transmission of HIV/AIDS and therefore were a population that would benefit from greater awareness and resources.

When the marchers arrived back in front of NJP station, the WBVHA staff members transitioned to manning the awareness stall. WBHVA staff were busily distributing condoms, conducting blood tests, and each taking turns to speak into the microphone about the modes of transmission and the importance of knowing your status. Many toto and auto drivers watched from afar with caution, but one-by-one, as the attention died down, men came discreetly to hear more and test their blood for HIV. With the close of the program, more than 100 people had their blood tested for HIV and hundreds of condoms and pamphlets had been disseminated.

Tarun turned down the music that had been playing and switched the microphone on. I only spoke for maybe three minutes, I have no idea if anyone listened, and whatever I said was far from profound. But no matter who heard me, what I said was simple: HIV/AIDS is a preventable health condition only if we are all empowered to protect ourselves and only if our communities learn to love without fear of one another.

It was in those crackling speakers - in what was a truly embarrassing display of public speaking - where I was able to raise my voice for HIV/AIDS for the first time after the last three months of listening.

Maybe next time I won't be so afraid.