Generation of Orphans: South Africa’s Children of AIDS

2 minute read

One night in 2003, Agnes Dlamini woke to the sound of her infant grandson crying. His mother — Dlamini’s daughter-in-law — had died after a long illness. The baby was left on top of her emaciated body, sucking helplessly at his mother’s lifeless breast.

That tragedy, Dlamini now knows, is the result of South Africa’s failure to address the spread of HIV. But back then, she had no idea. At the time, the country’s President Thabo Mbeki was sympathetic to AIDS denialists. His Minister of Health was nicknamed Dr. Beetroot for championing the plant as a treatment for HIV/AIDS. Anti­retroviral drugs weren’t available until 2004 and were difficult to obtain for many years after that.

The legacy of that denial is 3.37 million South African children under 17 without one or both parents, according to a 2011 census. Most are orphans, and some 64% are in the care of grandmothers, who bear the responsibility of a second motherhood.

The age gap makes it challenging for grand­mothers to connect with these kids and warn them about HIV. “I don’t have the right words for it,” says Dlamini, 81. “My granddaughter laughs at me when I try.” High urban unemployment, poverty and crime add to the difficulty of their task. Still, many of the gogos, the Zulu word for grandmothers, say they are hopeful they can break the cycle that claimed their children’s lives.


Elles van Gelder and Jonathan Torgovnik are based in South Africa.


Maria Mokoena, 62, with her seven orphan grandchildren. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; October 2012. In 2003, Mokoena began taking care of grandchildren Ernest, now 21, and Lebusa, now 17, after her eldest daughter died of HIV/AIDS. This May, her second daughter also died of the disease, leaving her to raise five more grandchildren: Teddy, 8, Happy, 13, and Sharon, 15, Mbongeni, 17, and Lineo, 23. The grandchildren don't know how their mothers died. "They are too young to understand," Mokoena says. "This disease eats you from the inside until it is too late. I hope for a better life for my grandchildren. I want them to become accountants and lawyers.” Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Francina Moloi, 56, with her twin orphan granddaughters, Thuli and Thulisile, 16, and her one-year old great-grandchild, Mthobisi, in front of their one-room house. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; October 2012. Moloi has been taking care of her twin granddaughters, Thuli and Thulisile, 16, since their mother died of AIDS nine years ago; her husband passed away the same year. "I wasn’t working and I couldn’t even afford to buy them uniforms to go to school," she says. "We don’t know where their father is.” Since 2011, Moloi has also been caring of Thuli's son, Mthobisi, adding to the already difficult challenge of supporting a family on a $70 monthly grant she receives for taking care of the grandchildren. She also collects cardboard boxes which she then sells for recycling, making an average of $8 a day. “When I can’t sleep I think about HIV," she says. "My biggest fear is that my grandchildren will get it as well and will also die. I want them to have a better life.”Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Agnes Dlamini, 81, with her orphan grandchildren Lindelani, 9, and Tipho, 13, on their street. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; August 2012. In 2003, Dlamini lost her daughter, son and daughter-in-law, each one passing away one after the other. Given the generation gap, Diamini struggles with talking candidly about the disease, sex and pregnancy to her grandchildren. “I don’t have the right words for it," she says. "Besides, they think I’m an old woman and they don’t believe me anyway. My granddaughter laughs at me when I try.” Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Elizabeth Danisa, 71, with her orphan grandchildren Sibusiso, 16, and Mpho, 11, in front of their home. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; August 2012. When Danisa arrived at the hospital to pick up her second daughter, who had been admitted for HIV treatment, she was confronted with the devastating news of her death. "The curtains around her bed were closed, and they told me my daughter was no longer with us," she says. "I cried so loud that they didn’t show me her body. She immediately told her grandchildren how their mother passed away, but these days, conversation between them is fraught. Danisa says she is routinely yelled at by her grandson, Sibusiso, who demands money. "I am so tired of it that I sometimes give him the foster grant I receive for taking care of him," she says. "I told him I want to save the money to pay for his education but he just buys expensive clothing with it."Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Maria Ramotekoa, 68, with her orphan grandchildren Mathabelo, 18, (right) and Thabang, 15. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; August 2012. Ramotekoa has raised Mathabelo and Thabang for the last decade, after their parents died of AIDS. At one point, she was also caring for a granddaughter, but the young woman left the house after becoming pregnant at 15. Ramotekoa now regularly tells her grandsons about AIDS—and how their parents died of the disease—but she says they continue to go out at night and "do things that will make them sick." Sometimes, she'll throw condoms on their beds, and although the grandsons laugh at her, she says they get snatched up. Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Violet Mamogobo, 56, with her granddaughter Lerato, 12, in front of their house. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; September 2012. When her daughter died of AIDS in 2006, Mamogobo didn't know anything about HIV. "I thought she was sick because of stress," she says. Mamogobo now takes care of her HIV-positive son, as well as her granddaughter.Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Mary Mokhethoa,68, with her three orphan grandchildren Itumeleng, 12, Dikeledi, 20, Lebogang, 22, and her great-granddaughter, Keamogetswe. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; October 2012. "It isn’t easy to be old and to take care of them," says Mokhethoa of the grandchildren she has taken care of since her daughter died 10 years ago. Doctors told Mokhethoa that her daughter had a lung infection, but she thinks HIV was the true cause. But awareness of the disease is rising in her grandchildren's generation. “These days we take the disease seriously,” says Lebogang. "We mainly learn about HIV/AIDS at school. It is not easy to talk about sex with your grandmother."Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Petronela Makhanya, 62, with her orphans Brenda, 8, Delisile, 12, (right) and Phindile, 15, (left) in front of their house. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; September 2012. Makhanya has taken care of her granddaughter, Delisile, 12, since her daughter Charlotte died in 2000. Later on, she also began looking after Brenda and Phindile, orphans of AIDS who had nowhere to go after losing their own grandmother. Makhanya worries deeply about her granddaughter's generation, and Phindile, who fails to respect her sunset curfew, in particular. “She hangs out with older boys," Makhanya says. "I’m afraid she’ll get pregnant or catch HIV and follow her mother to the grave.”Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME
Gertrude Ngcongwane, 59, with her granddaughter Charmain, 19, grandson Ronny, 25, and granddaughter Thobeli, 10, in front of their home. Alexandra township, Johannesburg, South Africa; August 2012. A decade ago, Ngconwane's daughter died of AIDS, leaving her to parent Charmaine and Thobeli, who are HIV positive; Thobeli has physical and mental handicaps, too. Meanwhile, Ronny has been abusing alcohol to cope with his mother's death. Ngcongwane herself is also sick, suffering from high blood pressure and diabetes, all while supporting the family with the $155 monthly government grant she receives for Thobeli. “I’m afraid Charmaine is looking at a bleak future," says Ngconwane. "She’s HIV-positive and uneducated, so what’s going to happen to her? And what will happen to handicapped Thobeli when I’m no longer here? No one wants to take care of her.” Jonathan Torgovnik—Reportage by Getty Images for TIME

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