Once, when Mwansa Njelesani was a
growing up she wanted to be a doctor.
"My dad was part of the first group of Zambian doctors to graduate out of
the university after independence," the HIV/AIDS program co-ordinator for Taking
It Global says, adding her mother was also a midwife.
No, she's not a doctor today — entirely by choice. Instead, she wants to
work to help doctors do their jobs. And her tenacity is impressive.
Now the recent graduate of Carleton University's master's program in
international affairs — a degree she completed in only one year — is
spearheading a youth website for Taking It Global's efforts at this year's World
AIDS Conference to be held in Toronto this August.
What brought her to Taking It Global and the efforts to stop AIDS was her
African upbringing.
"It's always at the back of your head, but you don't realize how much of
an impact it's had on you," she says of her experience with the disease.
She calmly tells of returning to Africa from school in England each year.
"Every summer you were guaranteed a few people would die, which was very
macabre. But it was a weird reality you have to face," she says, her eyes bright
with emotion.
"The (funerals) were a blur to me, and I didn't fully understand what it
was about."
Her encounters with HIV started early. In Zambia, roughly 20 per cent of
the population has the infection.
"You go through cycles where you're upset ... it's a hard thing to do and
I think for me that's been kind of my motivation (to spread information)," she
says. "You happen to have been born in Canada. I happened to have been born in
Zambia.
"Life circumstances have meant I'm facing these challenges.
"But at the end of the day we're all seeking similar things."
Njelesani spent her first nine years in Lusaka, the capital of Zambia, a
country with the world's lowest life expectancy rate, around 35 years.
Yet if you ask her about Africa, her eyes light up and her smile grows.
"It's so diverse and so rich and so amazing: the lifestyle and just the
heat," the 24-year-old says laughing. "It's an amazing place."
Her father later moved her family to Sierra Leone when he was approached
by the World Health Organization to work as a doctor for the UN in the early
'90s.
Then her schooling took her thousands of miles away from the home she had
known.
Her parents decided to send Njelesani and her brother to boarding school
in East Sussex, England to have a more stable education while they moved to
different countries in Africa.
She spent nearly 10 years in England.
And it was on those trips home to Africa that she first began to realize
being a doctor wasn't for her.
"I would see the frustrations that doctors had, like working at the main
hospital in Lusaka — there were three medicines for the official pharmacy," she
says.
"You'd diagnose the patient but what's the point of even diagnosing them
if the major pharmacy doesn't have the medicine for these people?"
Njelesani was struck by how important it was to understand ways to help
meet the doctors' needs.
"I was more interested in facilitating doctors to do their work than
becoming that doctor," she explains, though she adds they were always an
inspiration to her.
"These doctors would switch from language to language to try and find
out, `Do you speak this or do you speak this?' and then diagnose in that
particular language," she says, adding there are 72 distinct languages in
Zambia, of which she speaks two and her mother speaks nine.
In 2000, Njelesani came to Canada. As an 18-year-old who had just
finished her A-Levels — the equivalent to the old Grade 13 — she had a desire to
see more of the world.
"I ended up in Nova Scotia by chance really," she explains of her
decision to go to Dalhousie University — it was just the first Canadian
university to accept her.
She did a combined honours degree in political science and French while
continuing a love of music — developed over years of studying piano and singing
in England — by joining a band.
Nonetheless, AIDS factored into her work again as she organized campaigns
to educate students about the realities of the disease.
"I remember this one person said, `Oh well, you know it's a curse from
God and they didn't pray enough and that's why it happened to them.'
"Or people were like like, `Are Africans just more sexually
promiscuous?'" she says, with a laugh. "So in some ways you have to respect the
fact that someone's coming to you because they want to be more engaged.
"But on the other level you realize there's a lot of misinformation out
there."
Njelesani sees how the Western perspective has trouble understanding the
extent of the disease.
"There's an association with, `It won't happen to me,'" she says of
people's opinions of the disease here in Canada.
"My biggest lesson was, as empathetic as I was, it took someone close to
me getting HIV to really hit it home."
She doesn't feel comfortable disclosing the person's name.
"I was in England and it was around the time when I was writing my final
exams," she says.
"I remember simply going into a nearby church and basically crying,
trying to figure out why, particularly why this person. It took awhile for me to
calm down."
The person is still alive today, which gives her hope. "You have to keep
living and the person is living with HIV, and unlike many other people, not
dying from it.
"That is what you have to focus on, on the fact that they are living,
trying to live their best life, like anyone else."
Njelesani hopes people who haven't been around the disease as much as she
has will realize there is life behind those numbers that are so hard to
understand.
"These are young people like you and me.
"They are excited about life and they want all of these things to happen
for them. But (they were also) born in Zambia.
"Therefore, on top of just being young they have to deal with the fact
they've lost a parent or something," she says sadly. "It's a hard thing to try
and transmit."
But there is hope, she says, for the youth growing up in Africa right
now. Her dissertation, which she completed in October 2005, was on youth NGOs in
Lusaka. And she feels there are more people speaking out about the disease.
"There's been this explosion of Zambian music and young people are using
music as a mechanism to express their frustrations with the system. It's
amazing," she says.
This past November, she began working with Taking It Global — a job that
fate dropped in her lap when she was least expecting it, but when she needed it
most. As an international student on her post-grad work visa, she was running
out of time to find a job.
Now, five months later, Njelesani says Taking It Global really draws her
in because of its ability to use growing technology to connect youth around the
world for one cause.
Her future plans lie in travelling the world. But she recognizes she also
needs to find balance first.
"Now that I'm growing a little older I know the importance of having a
base, my own home, a place that's my little sanctuary," she says.
"(But) through travelling and through working in other cultures you learn
about yourself and it's amazing, you grow so much."
No matter where she goes, she says she will always be connected with her
childhood home.
"That connection for me is always important," she says softly, putting
her hands to her chest.
"It's engrained in me, it's part of me.
"Home is Africa."
ID@thestar.ca




