“Her name is Dudu”

“Her name is Dudu”

    I’ve heard stories about her and her baby, seen her from a distance, and even prayed over her this past Sunday at church, but yesterday was different.  Yesterday was real for me.  “I know Dudu is dying and I want to honor her as much as I can,” Pastor Gift said to our team.  This beautiful woman who has an 8 month old baby is dying from AIDS and extreme TB at the age of 26.  That’s one year older than 25.  She could be me, or even you.
    When we arrived at her house I only had enough time to recognize I had been here the week prior before I saw her coming out, frail and shuffling. Her head was bobbling with her physical structure lifeless and limp except for her eyes.  Her eyes were intensely sharp, her spirit still crying out but her body resisting communication with even a faint whisper.  You could see her mother’s strength within her.  Her mom reflects a typical African woman’s survival through her strong-weathered hands and wrinkled, yet rich, glowing black skin.  With the fight of her mother at her side and a sense of urgency we got Dudu into the back of Pastor Gift’s van.
                                              
   

   He asked me to sit on the other side of her and her mom, so that between the two of us we could better support her weak body on our 1.5 hour trek to the hospital. She’s progressively gotten worse, and being admitted to the hospital at this point would be best.  During the initial part of our journey, after wrapping one arm around her and holding her hand with the other I was consumed with a deep love for a woman I didn’t even know, God’s love.  The squeezing of her hand in mine, the non-verbal signaling for me to give her water or her handkerchief after coughing, and the closing of her eyes as I sang to her were enough for a new friendship to be kindled.  Staring out the window with welled-up tears ready to burst forth, AIDS had become more real for me than ever before, but more importantly than that Dudu’s life.  God’s peace slowly settled upon the two of us.
     I am convinced Dudu had experienced what I had, even if for a few brief moments.  And though my heart is currently breaking for her entire situation, God reminded me that His hope, love, and compassion still remains in life’s most dire situations.  Only God’s love would allow two strangers to connect on this level.
   
    **Dudu was admitted to the hospital yesterday, with the Dr. stating that she probably now also has Meningitis on top of AIDS and TB. We left her in their care while they were to do a spinal injection to confirm Meningitis for sure.  Today we are taking her baby to the clinic.**

             *For God’s best in Dudu’s life (whether through miraculous healing, death in going to be with Jesus, but that she wouldn’t

              have to suffer anymore than she has)

             *For her baby Snethemba to be HIV free

             *For her baby & family through Dudu’s outcome
             *For God’s Hope to prevail over Swaziland’s strongholds of hopelessness & despair (amidst poverty, brokeness, &  
               illness)

FOLLOW-UP BLOGS ON DUDU & HER BABY…. 
            “I remember ‘Dudu’s’ affliction…the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.” Lamentations 3:19-22