This week marks the 25th anniversary of what is widely considered the first report of AIDS – a brief item published on June 5, 1981, by the Centers for Disease Control about a strange cluster of pneumonia cases in Los Angeles. We have learned a lot about the disease since then, but so much remains to be done.
As the world unhappily marks the anniversary, we are reminded of the staggering statistics about this deadly disease. Every day, 8,000 people die from HIV/AIDS. Every year, 5 million new infections occur. Approximately 40 million people are infected with HIV; about 70 percent of them are in Africa.
Anniversaries are a time of reflection. We often look back and remember. But they are also an occasion to look forward.
In this spirit, we recently returned from a trip to Eldoret, Kenya, a small village on the dusty frontlines of one of Africa’s worst AIDS battle zones. There, we were astonished to find doctors handing out detailed prescriptions not just for anti-AIDS drugs, but for food.
Food and nutrition are, in fact, vital weapons in the struggle against HIV/AIDS. In some African countries, the devastating disease has cut life expectancy in half – to medieval levels of about 33 years – and left a tragic legacy of millions of AIDS orphans.
The effectiveness of the multi-billion-dollar U.S. investment in drugs for Africa could be greatly enhanced by following the prescription for success we witnessed with our own eyes: food along with medicine.
The logic is simple: Most drugs come with instructions to take before or after meals – a regimen designed for affluent parts of the world, where wondering where the next meal will come from is not a concern.
But in Africa, where one in three people is malnourished and lives on a dollar a day, many living with HIV can’t take even one daily meal for granted. And while powerful drugs may sustain life, they don’t work nearly as effectively on depleted bodies and empty stomachs.
Field research has demonstrated that providing the right food and the right nutrition at the right time can make a tremendous difference. It is an idea that, thankfully, is finally catching on.
In Eldoret, we visited an innovative program called the Academic Model for the Prevention and Treatment of HIV/AIDS in Kenya, which works to show that holistic intervention in the lives of people living with HIV can work minor miracles.
The model was launched four years ago as a partnership between two Kenyan medical schools and the Indiana University School of Medicine. It provides drug treatment to more than 15,000 HIV-infected Kenyans and, thanks to generous grants from the U.S. government, aims to double that number over the next year.
Up to half of all new patients in drug therapy are highly malnourished. One of the doctors recounted to us how clinicians were shocked to find the average newcomer weighed just 49 kilograms (about 108 pounds). Since, in his words, “drugs don’t have any calories,” the model created a comprehensive program that involves food “prescriptions” as well as cooking lessons to ensure good nutrition and the development of farms and vegetable plots.
The UN World Food Program supports 440 patients and their families by providing food for six months unless the individual remains very ill. Most patients gain enough weight and strength in that period to return to normal activities. We saw living proof of this phenomenon during our visit: vibrant, healthy-looking, productive citizens.
It is amazing how this simple “prescription” can literally turn lives around. In Kenya’s AIDS-devastated Busia and Bondo districts, where the U.N. program provides food to more than 36,000 orphans, vulnerable children, and their caretakers, results show significant drops in child malnutrition, improved family health, and better school attendance. Evidence shows that keeping children in school can also protect them from HIV infection.
Consider one HIV-positive widower, 46-year-old Benedicte, father of two boys. When he first enrolled in a drug program supported by food aid, Benedicte arrived on a stretcher to collect his rations. Not long after receiving regular drugs and food, Benedicte could collect his sacks of maize and beans by bicycle.
Benedicte is a hopeful metaphor for countries and communities hardest-hit by the double trouble of HIV/AIDS and food insecurity. And making sure food and good nutrition are part of the package to fight AIDS will maximize the impact of the U.S. government’s great investment to combat AIDS.
Matz is chairman of the board and Sendelback is CEO of Friends of the World Food Program.
