The orpheans of AIDS, 1/2. « Hello, faraway friend.
I am an orphan with fifty-three brothers and sister. We all have a mother, her name is Mama Christine. Back in the day, in my country, a family was large and close. Everyone lived together, everyone helped each other, everyone loved one another. And then, the sickness came. It ate through us, it killed us, it separated us forever. I remember that evening…I was still so little. I found myself alone, watching my mother die. She cried with empty eyes. I think she fought to survive the others, to remain at my side as long as she could. I was four years old. I grew up in that moment. I remember holding her hand the entire night, until it grew cold. I left when the day broke. What more can I say, dear friend? I was alone, desperately and entirely alone. I walked aimlessly for hours and hours. I cried, I was hungry. I had lost everything. The night fell, once again. There was a tree, great and wide. I sat down at its feet, nestling against its trunk. I waited…for what, I did not know. My stomach was empty, with only fear and despair to fill it, I fell asleep, exhausted. I dreamt a strange dream that a soldier found me, a big tall man, and he took me in his arms. In my strange dream the heat of his body warmed me and the scent of him enveloped me. I dreamt that I was gently rocked as his body swayed when he walked. In the morning, I awoke surrounded by fifteen pairs of eyes gazing down at me. Instead of the tree, there was the immense shadow of a grandmother. “I am Mama Christine, child. Tell me who you are....” More to read tomorrow. @webistan عكاس رضادقتى @thephotosociety #protection #tendresse #humanitarian #solidarité #refuge #rezaphoto #solidarity #enfant #tenderness #rezaphotography #humain #main #rezadeghati #child #photooftheday #humanitaire #reza #aids #picoftheday #rezaphotojournalist #photojournalism #sida #hand