Picturing life with HIV in DR Congo

http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/rss/-/1/hi/world/africa/7755717.stm

Version 0 of 1.

By Nell Freeman Photojournalist

It was definitely a challenge: turn 12 HIV-positive activists from Kinshasa, none of whom had seen a digital camera before and only two of whom could use a computer, into professional photographers.

The course included training with camera and computerBut for one month, I put my life as a photojournalist on hold and did just that.

They came from all over Democratic Republic of Congo, from Goma to Boma, Kisangani to Katanga, where they worked as orphanage directors, mobile peanut sellers and copper mine workers.

They each gave up four weeks to learn a new skill. They are now all professional photographers.

It was Maman Bernadette's great idea. Madame Bernadette Mulembe is the National Director of FFP (Fondation Femme Plus), a women's rights organization in central Kinshasa.

In 2001, she had worked with Christian Aid on a photographic workshop for 15 women affected by HIV. Prints of their work still decorate the FFP clinic. But that was a different era, for both photography and HIV.

The women on that course shot on film cameras and the costs were a heavy burden. And in 2001 there were no anti-retroviral drugs (ARVs) in DR Congo. Many of the original participants were overcome by their HIV infections and have passed away.

Things are different now. ARVs are available at NGO-run clinics and occasionally through the government and digital photography reduces a photographer's running costs.

Still life... in a vest

Maman Bernadette suggested to Christian Aid the idea of re-launching the 2001 scheme, with a new focus on giving students a means to support themselves.

That's how I came to find myself with an angry Congolese groom on my hands, and 12 trainee wedding photographers intently focusing on aperture, framing and white balance.

<a class="" href="/1/hi/in_pictures/7755769.stm">Pictures taken by Nell's students</a> Our days were divided between photography in the morning and computer skills in the afternoon. Each trainee was to become the leader of a photo-club for their province. They would be issued with a laptop and a small pool of digital cameras, which could be booked out by members. They had to be trained not only to use the equipment themselves but train others as well.

During the third computer lesson, when I was still reminding students to stop prodding the screen repeatedly and try the mouse instead, I had a moment of doubt. But after four weeks, they could all load pictures onto the computer, do basic editing in Photoshop and save images onto a USB stick to take to a printers.

I wanted them to feel comfortable with still life, portrait and reportage work. For still life practice, I gave students a bottle of water to photograph for a local advertising agency to put in the paper. I saw this as a chance for the students to practise using light from different angles on an easy object.

Instead Nancy, the prettiest girl in the class was instructed to remove her clothes down to her vest and strike different poses of someone very much enjoying their bottle of AquaKool.

A small white pill

We worked on shooting portraits that revealed how a person is feeling. For reportage, students were dispatched on assignments to nearby zoos, parks and street-markets. Their final commercial project was a wedding.

In the run up to the big day, we held practice weddings, discussing key moments and the importance of not missing the shot. There had been much practising of walking down the aisle, exchanging rings and most fun of all for me, as stand-in bride - the first kiss.

The exhibition was featured on the national newsWhen the day came, anticipation was high and adrenaline fizzing. Our enthusiasm was such that the groom temporarily called a halt to the ceremony to ask if we could tone it down a bit. They got some wonderful shots.

All of my students who needed ARVs were receiving them, but one. ARVs hadn't yet reached the area where Monique lives.

The distress caused by her TB and her inability to climb three flights of stairs to reach the sunny rooftop where the rest of the class had lunch, were painful reminders of what would be happening to the strong healthy bodies of the rest of the participants were it not for their daily access to a small white pill.

After four weeks of work, the students' images were displayed in an exhibition that attracted more than 150 people and was featured in the national press and on the national news. Despite that success, I wasn't certain whether the new skills would be able to fit into the challenging lives led by many of the participants once they returned home.

Maman Marcelline, a 50-year-old sweet-seller from Kinshasa, took three buses to get to the training centre, a journey of two hours each wayf. Two months after the course, I heard that selling sweets was now a sideline to her photographic services.

Starting the course, I hoped would pass on something useful. I hoped my students would be able to earn extra money in a less physically demanding way that might improve their quality of life. But my students have not gone on to work 9-5 and put their feet up.

With the extra money they are earning through photography, all of the students are helping families, orphans and recently diagnosed HIV patients.

I couldn't have anticipated that my course would such an effect, passing on a skill that is now helping whole communities.