In Egypt, HIV-positive live in the shadows

CAIRO --As the delivery date neared for the birth of her first child, Rose was stuck between her conscience -- she didn't want to lie -- and the practical necessity of giving birth to a healthy child.

Rose thought about telling her doctor that she was HIV-positive -- the routine blood tests her obstetrician had ordered didn't screen for HIV --  but she knew the risk of that: When she sent a friend to pretend that she was HIV-positive and pregnant, the doctor told the friend he didn't deliver the babies of HIV patients.

So on her delivery date, she told the doctor she was a hypochondriac and that it was important to her that the doctors take extra precautions during her delivery.

"Every pregnant woman usually feels excited and can't wait to get her baby delivered, except me; I was panicking," she said. "It was a horrible feeling to go to a doctor and tell him that I am not infected. I felt dishonest."

HIV education has become an international cause throughout Africa, where the rate of infection devastated many sub-Saharan nations but is being brought under control by concerted efforts on prevention and treatment. Similar efforts, however, are largely nonexistent in North Africa and the Middle East, and AIDS activists now worry that the rise of a conservative Islamic government in Egypt, where former longtime Muslim Brotherhood member Mohammed Morsi became the country's first democratically elected president over the summer, will make matters worse.

AIDS is still considered a disease of homosexuals and prostitutes here. Doctors are taught that it's a foreigner's disease, and they receive little training in how to treat such patients. Most doctors refuse to treat HIV patients or to deliver their children. Egyptian officials continue to insist that there's no AIDS problem here; to do otherwise would force the government to confront such taboo subjects as homosexuality, safe sex and what Muslim ethics say about how to treat the ill, however the disease is contracted.

"When the government becomes more religious, they believe AIDS is a punishment from God. But being religious starts with respecting human rights," said Noor, Rose's husband, who contracted AIDS from a blood transfusion when he was a child. "We are not a part of the revolution. They isolated us. We did not isolate them."

Rose sheepishly explained, her veiled head bowed and looking at the ground as her son tried to teach himself to walk, that when she told her best friend early on that she was HIV-positive, she never heard from her friend again. Rose and Noor, who live in a five-story walk-up apartment, live in fear that their neighbors will learn of their infections. They agreed to share their story only if their real names weren't used.

Rose's family doesn't know that she's HIV-positive or that her first husband infected her eight years ago. They don't know that Rose and Noor met at an AIDS seminar or how miraculous it is that their two young children are HIV-negative because Rose demanded cesarean births and didn't breastfeed.

Every day Noor and Rose spend hours educating themselves, largely through the Internet, about the disease and how to get the medicine they need, all while hiding medicine and medical records in their home lest someone discover their secret. They talk about their condition only with other HIV patients, sometimes traveling hours to private seminars where patients reassure one another that they can't spread the virus to their loved ones through touching or through sharing glasses of water.

HIV infections are climbing in only two regions of the world: Eastern Europe and the Middle East. The United Nations estimates that as many as 570,000 people in the Middle East have HIV or AIDS, 40 percent of them women. According to the United Nations, 70 percent of the men infected are married to women, often to hide their homosexuality. In Egypt, the Ministry of Health says there are 2,700 cases, but the true number is estimated conservatively at more than four times that --  and growing.

"The world is talking about the beginning of the end of AIDS. We are not," said Wessam not el Beih, the U.N.'s AIDS country director for Egypt.

According to one survey, 57 percent of doctors here think that HIV can be transmitted through a mosquito bite, according to a footnote in a U.N. report. Many patients, unaware of the symptoms or risks, learn only by chance that they've been infected, when a blood test required for a visa or a medical procedure comes back positive.

Even when HIV education reaches Egypt, the stigma is so widespread that it somehow stifles knowledge from disseminating. At Nehad Helmy's women's clinic, the examination room looks out to her office, where the wall is adorned with certificates of her HIV training. She first became interested as a master's student, when no one would treat a pregnant woman who appeared at an Egyptian hospital with HIV in 1997. A hospital cleaning woman helped the woman deliver her baby, Helmy recalled, prompting her to begin studying HIV and pregnancy.

She and her husband moved to Holland, where doctors often specialize in HIV treatment. She earned one certificate after another, and she admired how patients there were treated like anyone else. Determined to bring that care to Egypt, she came home in 2009 and sought to open an AIDS clinic, but she couldn't win government approval.

Now she's afraid to advertise her HIV specialty for fear that no one else will visit her clinic. Instead, she treats HIV patients on the sly and sends test results to her friends in Holland for advice.

"There is no hope and no progress," Helmy said. "Doctors think I am crazy for working on this."

Perhaps because of that, the nation is peppered with people such as Noor, Rose and their friend Manal, who's 34. Manal was applying for a visa to Saudi Arabia when she learned through a blood test that she was HIV-positive. When she begged her family to get tested for no reason in particular, they figured out her secret. For a time, Manal's relatives feared that they could contract the virus just by touching her, and because of that Manal wasn't always allowed to pick up her baby niece.