He had it all. A loving family, a job as a chaplain and his community respect. But all that changed when HIV ravaged his family. Today, he has new vigour as he inspires the clergy to accept the disease

By Joseph Mtebe

A church pastor is one who is revered by his congregation. He is supposed to be holier than thou, a person whose life is next to purity as possible. And as he leads his flock into the promised land his actions are meant to inspire most into leading a clean life. In the eyes of the community, the clergy should have little room for mistakes and worldly pleasures.

 

But what happens when the pastor shows that he is also human? That he faces the same challenges as his followers do? What happens when the same pastor becomes HIV positive? And his wife too, and two children are ravaged and claimed by the disease?

This is not a made-up story, but one that faced Reverend Amin Sendewa, of Tanzanian Lutheran Church.

It all started in the year 1999 when him and his wife were expecting their third child. Then the child died soon after birth. 

 

“The child developed health problems, and died,” Reverend Sendewa who was then a Chaplain at Sokoine University of Agriculture in Morogoro, says.

He would have dismissed it as a normal tragedy if his wife health had too not started deteriorating fast. Plus, she seemed very worried.   

“There was something in my wife’s face; she appeared disturbed and stressed out and I felt she was struggling deep within,” pastor Sendewa says, of his wife with whom they were married in 1990. 

He decided to test

After a lot of reflection and agonising months, and his wife still in and out of hospital, Pastor Sendewa thought it wise to get tested for HIV. 

“I told her I was going to get tested. She didn’t react, so I went ahead,” he says.

 

But he soon realised that it was not going to be as easy as walking to the next clinic and getting his results. As a church leader he had a reputation to keep and he didn’t want his faithful to start talking. He reasoned that his options lay in going as far away as possible to find out his fate with no prying eyes. That is how he found himself traveling 200km away to Muhimbili National hospital in Dar es Salaam, to get tested at the VCT centre. 

“I had to wait for the results for a week. I thought a lot of the impact the results will have in my life. But somehow, I felt I was confirming what I already knew. That I had Aids,” he says.

The tests confirmed his fears. He was positive.  It was then that his true agony started. “I had many questions running through my mind, I thought about how I’d tell my wife, whether I should disclose to the church or not, and what impact it would have in my work as a pastor.

 I asked myself, ‘I’m a pastor, who should I tell this to? Do I disclose to my bishop, fellow pastors, my parents or congregation?” quips the 51-year-old.

A chat with wife

Those questions weighed heavily at his heart and he decided to talk it over with his wife. 

Her reaction surprised him a great deal. “She was like, “okay, I am HIV positive too. I tested during pregnancy on an ante-natal visit last year. I have been wondering how best to disclose to you, but I couldn’t gather enough courage,” the pastor says of his wife, then a primary school teacher.

 

Unlike most couples in similar situations, they didn’t fight. “If anything, our love grew instead. She told me this was God’s will, let’s just wait and look at the way forward,” Sendewa who says he took care of his ailing wife until her last breath, divulges.  “My wife died on my hands,” he attests.  

But all was not well outside their marital home.  Although they hadn’t disclosed to anyone yet, rumours began to swell in the neighbourhood. “ ‘Pastor ana ukimwi’ (pastor has AIDS). His child has died and can’t you see his wife is ailing?” the grapevine had it. 

Undeterred, the reverend pushed on with his church functions. But it seemed whichever way he turned people were looking at him with new suspicion. 

One of his lowest moments came after a woman, a church elder in his church, called him on the phone, and inquired, “Have you repented? I hear you have HIV,” Sendewa, a theology degree holder, who was ordained in 1991, by the evangelical Lutheran church Tanzania, Pare Diocese Kilimanjaro, says. 

“I felt really bad. I told her never to call me again,” the pastor whose first parish was Mrumi at Ugweno, Kilimanjaro avers. 

Stigma killed my wife

But if he thought he had the worst of the stigma that comes with being HIV positive, he was mistaken. In fact, he blames it for his wife premature death in July 1999.

 

 “Stigma killed her,” the reverend declares.

 “There was this woman who came to see my wife and lifted the bed sheets. And I was like, what does she want?”

Apparently she thought all AIDS victims must have acne or skin problems, so she wanted to prove it,” discloses Sendewa.

Then, there is a day the wife, discovered a letter by the house girl addressed to her relations in Moshi, which read, “We’re coming there soon, because madam is about to die, she has AIDS.”

And the church was no better. Other pastors were shunning him.  “They avoided me,” the pastor claims. 

“I expected them to pray with me but they didn’t and they gave excuses not to visit my home,” Sendewa continues and adds: “There was this one church I visited, when the pastor was told of my visit, he simply said, ‘we know his problems’ and disregarded my presence there.’”

 The final hammer came not long after. That’s when his wife died and he was left to fed for his two kids, Glory, born in 1991, and Monica-Tina born in 1994. 

“After the burial, I had my two daughters tested for HIV, just to be sure,” he says. Unfortunately, Monica’s results came back positive. She soon started ailing and died. 

Contract not renewed

Then his chaplain contract failed to be renewed. It was up for renewal at the end of 2000, and the Christian Council of Tanzania gave a resounding NO. 

“I was told to hand over and return to my home diocese of Pare. It was difficult, because I had family to take care of all alone,” Reverend Sendewa, explains.

“I believe the transfer was due to my HIV status,” he accuses. 

With a wounded heart, he packed up to Pare.  But more problems awaited him there. “Instead of counseling from senior bishops, I was subjected to condemnation,” Rev. Sendewa, says. 

Then came the interrogation: “I was asked three questions: ‘With your status, do you think there is any parish willing to take you in?’ I read it to mean that I had became meaningless.

‘Parish work is very tedious, do you think you’ll manage in your condition?” came the second question. 

And third: “Being positive means you require expensive medication, which parish will be ready to foot your bill? To me it meant, “The parishes are not ready to bear the costs of your burial.” 

Those days, ARV’s were very costly and a doctor had told me I needed seven million shillings,” Reverend Sendewa recalls.  

With no job, Sendewa turned to wheat farming which he engaged in for three years. “I started asking how I could transform myself into a blessing,” the pastor says. 

New hope in network

Then in 2004, he learnt of an organisation of religious leaders with HIV/Aids in Africa, ANERELA (Africa Network of Religious leaders living with or affected by HIV/Aids).  

“I got really inspired and I decided to go public with my status,” the pastor, says. 

The same year, he set up a local network, Tanerela. The network, which stands for Tanzania Network of Religious Leaders Living with or personally affected by HIV/Aids, caught on among the clergy and it has grown from a membership of 30 in 2005 to 270 today.

 “We target religious leaders, because as pastors, people come to us when they have problems, but we pastors have no refuge, where we can vent out,” Rev Sendewa who heads the organisation through funds from donors, says.

The pastor has decided to put the past behind him and thanks God that his CD4 count is still high and he doesn’t have to take medication. But he still believes that there are many hurdles still facing HIV/Aids sufferers in the country. 

 “Stigma is still high, and we are still telling people out there that HIV positive people are not sinners, and that people, especially religious leaders should test and come out to inspire others,” he says.

 

Other problems include having to walk long distances in search of medical care and ARV’s especially in rural areas, long queues at hospitals and lack of enriching and enough food for HIV+ people. 

 

But the one perception that Reverend Sendewa would want to see buried in the church, is one that believes that prayer would cure HIV. 

 

“I knew of a pastor who was positive and he was told that prayer would work. He shunned ARV’s and died,” 

“We advise people to pray and take the drugs because we see them as another hand of God,” Rev Sendewa confers.

 

For now, the pastor believes the worst is behind him and is elated that there is possibility of a HIV drug soon.

“It will encourage more people to test since many currently don’t, fearing they will die,” he beams. 

Apart from bringing up his daughter, who is now in Form six and wants to be a lawyer, Rev. Sendewa plans to remarry soon. 

 

“I can’t tell you if she is HIV positive or not because she has asked me not to speak about her status in public.  She knows I’m positive, and she accepts me the way I am,” the pastor reveals.