“I came to Joburg when I was about 15, which was about 15 years ago. I am from the Eastern Cape and I am HIV positive. I was infected before I came to Joburg. I grew up without much, and life had no meaning. I had been abused by my uncle after my mom passed away. I don’t know where my father is, and that’s when I gave up on life. The person who was supposed to be my protector, the one who shared my mother’s blood, is the one who took away my innocence.

“He told me I had no way to report it because he was a very powerful man. That was when I realized that nobody cared for me. I had no siblings, no one, no father, and nowhere to go. The only place left for me to go was Johannesburg. A friend of mine had invited me to Hilbrow, and I saw it as somewhere to run to. I ran away from the monster who had given me HIV, and from that day until today, I have never set foot in that village. To this day, I am still angry at my aunt.”

“My  aunt saw all of this abuse, but she failed to confront her husband. That is how I ended up in Hillbrow. I had gone to school up until matric, but I had no qualifications or skills, and I wasn’t working at all. Hillbrow is not easy; it’s rough. Everything about Hillbrow is tough, especially the living conditions. I think you’ve heard about ‘curtains’ in Hillbrow, where people live in small spaces, and rent is charged per space. You’ll find that in one room, there are two or more people living together.”

“Three people sharing the same room, and let’s be honest, it’s like Sodom and Gomorrah. When it’s time to sleep, the people you share with don’t care you’re there. They will have sexual intercourse even in your presence, and even if you have a strong sex drive, it will drive you crazy. I was young and staying with a friend in that same space. She worked as a domestic worker, so she would come back on weekends. That’s when I fell in love with the landlord’s husband.

“He would come to my room at night, leaving his wife sleeping, pretending he was going to the bathroom. He would then come to my room, and I told him he needed to protect himself. He said he didn’t care; all he wanted was to sleep with someone younger unprotected. So, I would sleep with him while his wife stayed in their room, and we would have a blast in mine. He would give me money for rent, and that’s when I realized I was just playing around, even though I had so much potential.

He would cry a lot when he was on top of me, and each time, he would tell me that he loved my young flesh. I realized that if I was going to end up on the streets, dating someone who could give me money, I might be able to live a better life. I needed to find money to take care of myself. I didn’t want to be with this guy anymore. One day, his wife woke up and started calling for her husband. I felt my feet go cold as she went around knocking on doors, asking if anyone had seen her husband .

“I was snoring, pretending to be asleep, after a few days later, the man told me to start looking for a room because it was getting dangerous. I was already HIV positive, and this guy loved me just as I was. I want women to know that when a man falls in love, there’s nothing you can do; nothing will separate us. We were so much in love, and the feeling was mutual. I moved into my new place, still in Hillbrow, but this time to the 5th floor. He would come during the day to visit.”

“I then realized that after three years, he started to lose interest in me. I really loved him, but he stopped paying my rent, so I had to think fast. That’s how I met a new guy. I had turned into a prostitute and could do whatever I wanted at my place. I would invite whoever I wanted, and we started hosting parties. We did crazy things, like smoking and sleeping with three men at the same time. Because of my age, men loved me a lot, and none of these men used protection with me.”

Everything I was doing was crazy; the devil was using me. One day, while I was dating my sugar daddy (the one who had rented me the place), he decided to visit without telling me in advance. I will never forget that day. He found a man in the act, and this guy stood by the door. He screamed at the top of his lungs, saying, “After all I have done for you, after everything I’ve done for you!” He rushed across the room, grabbed the man I was with, and lifted him up. He opened the window and threw him out, five floors down. My brother, I cried and I will never forget what happened that day. The police came and took him away, and he is in prison as we speak.

I rushed downstairs and found my boyfriend lying lifeless on the ground. The most painful part was when some women rushed over, covered him with a blanket, and tried to shield him. Until now, that memory has never left me. My blesser had been arrested, and I was left wondering who would pay my rent now that he was gone. That’s when another man approached me.

This man had come to South Africa from Mozambique to sell herbs. He was staying in Hillbrow and had clients — those people who give out flyers in town, claiming to offer services like male enlargement. He told me that some of these people didn’t really have any power at all. The only power they had was from the medicine they bought from him. What they would do is, if you asked for herbs to make your manhood more powerful, they would take your money, place it under their pillows at night, and use your money to create diseases. For example, your children might fall ill with a disease that couldn’t be cured at the hospital. The only way to fix it was to return the money to them. That’s what these people who give out flyers in town do, even their runners.

When I was with this man, he wanted to pay me, but he made a mistake. He took out the wrong wallet. After making love, when it was time to pay, he realized he had taken the wrong money. He then grabbed some mealie meal from my room and told me to wash my hands. I asked him why, and he explained that the money was “cursed.” He said he would take it back to Mozambique, where it belonged to the people who had visited the traditional healers in town. The money would then be tied to a shrine, an altar in Mozambique, where it would be used for black magic.

Those are just a few of the strange experiences I had.