Ada Chukwudi has lived with HIV for 10 years. In this interview with Daily Trust, she gave insights into her journey.

Tell us a bit about your journey since you were diagnosed with HIV.

I was diagnosed with HIV in 2015. At the time, I was 50, and like many people of my generation, I did not know much about HIV beyond what we heard on the radio or in churches. When the doctor told me I was HIV positive, I honestly thought it was a death sentence. I had lost a cousin to AIDS-related complications in the early 2000s, before treatment became widely available in Nigeria. So, in my mind, I believed the same fate awaited me.

My first few months after diagnosis were filled with fear. I was afraid to tell my children. I did not know how to discuss it with my husband, who eventually encouraged me to start treatment. At that time, access to antiretroviral drugs had become more structured in Nigeria through government and donor support. I was linked to a facility supported by an international NGO, and that is how I began my treatment journey.

I stopped panicking when I met other women living with HIV during clinic support group meetings. I met widows, young mothers, teenagers, and even a pastor. Hearing their stories helped me understand that HIV is a medical condition, not a moral judgment. With time, treatment became easier for me. I regained weight, my health improved, and I started feeling like myself again.

Today, at 60 years old, I have lived with HIV for 10 years. I have seen Nigeria’s HIV response grow—from when drugs were scarce and expensive, to when donor-funded programmes made treatment completely free, to now when funding changes are beginning to create new uncertainties. It has been a long journey, but I am grateful that I am alive, strong, and able to tell this story.

What have been your biggest challenges in accessing services?

Accessing services has been a mixed experience. In the early years, the challenge was mainly distance. The nearest clinic offering free antiretrovirals was almost 50 minutes away, and transport was not always easy. As I got older, walking or standing in queues became physically demanding. Some days, I would leave home at 6 a.m. and return in the late afternoon, all for a clinic appointment.

Another challenge is the shortage of healthcare workers. Many clinics are understaffed, and the burden on nurses and counsellors is high. Sometimes, patients wait for hours before being attended to. This is especially difficult for elderly patients like me who cannot stand for long periods or navigate crowded waiting rooms.

In recent years, the supply of drugs and test kits has sometimes become inconsistent. There have been periods where they gave us only a one-month refill instead of the usual two or three months because they said stock was low. That increases transportation costs and stress.

Laboratory services, especially viral load tests, can also be slow due to equipment breakdown, shortages of reagents, or delays in sample transportation. These things affect our confidence in the system. When you rely on medication every day to stay alive, any uncertainty becomes frightening.

How has your daily life been affected?

Living with HIV has changed my life in many ways, but I have learned to adapt. I follow a strict medication schedule. I never miss my dose because I know adherence is the key to staying healthy. I no longer eat late at night, I maintain a healthier diet, and I avoid stress as much as possible.

Emotionally, the diagnosis made me more introspective. I became more conscious of my health and relationships. I also became more compassionate toward others. HIV taught me the value of seeking help and supporting people going through difficult situations.

Socially, there were periods when I withdrew from gatherings because I did not want anyone to suspect anything. But with time, as education about HIV improved, I learned to live more confidently.

The biggest impact is probably fatigue. At 60, I am elderly, and combining age-related health issues with HIV treatment can be demanding. But because I keep up with my clinic visits and medications, I live a fairly normal life. I cook, attend church, take care of my grandchildren, and run a small provision shop.

Have you experienced any form of stigma or discrimination?

Yes, I have. Stigma remains one of the most difficult parts of living with HIV. Shortly after I was diagnosed, I confided in a neighbour who later started withdrawing from me. She stopped sharing plates or cutlery with me and discouraged her children from visiting my house. I felt deeply hurt.

I reported the incident to my support group, and they counselled me on how to cope with stigma. Over the years, I have learned not to internalize discrimination. I educate people when I can, and I keep my circle small. I don’t announce my status to everyone, but I no longer live in fear.

The truth is that stigma has reduced compared to many years ago, but it still exists in some communities. Education and community outreach are essential to changing attitudes.

What type of support has been most helpful for you?

Support groups have played a major role in my survival. Speaking with people living with HIV helped me accept my diagnosis. Also, psychosocial counselling at the clinic has been very helpful, especially during periods when I felt discouraged.

Another important support is the availability of free treatment. Without free ARVs provided through government and donor-funded programmes, many of us—especially elderly women and widows—would not survive.

My family has also been a great support. Once I explained the condition to my children, they became very understanding and encouraged me to stay adherent to treatment. Emotional support from family makes a huge difference.

How have recent changes in international funding affected your access to medication or services?

To be clear, treatment is still free for patients like me, but we have felt some effects of changes in international funding over the years. Different administrations in donor countries, economic challenges, and global health priorities have influenced how much funding comes into Nigeria.

In my clinic, we sometimes hear staff talk about reduced supplies or delayed shipments of drugs and laboratory reagents. In the past, when donor funding was at its peak, everything—from test kits to counselling materials—was abundantly available. Today, we see more emphasis on “targeted support,” meaning not every service is as frequent or as comprehensive as before.

Some of us worry that if donor support continues to fluctuate, the burden may shift to the Nigerian government, which already has many competing demands. So, the concern is not that services have stopped, but that the stability we once enjoyed sometimes feels uncertain.

Are there specific services people living with HIV need currently?

Yes. I believe we need more community-based drug refill points for elderly patients who cannot travel long distances; better laboratory capacity, especially for viral load testing; and more counsellors, because mental health support is still limited. We also need nutrition support, especially for older or low-income patients; stronger stigma-reduction campaigns, particularly in rural areas; and health insurance coverage that includes HIV-related services not provided free by donors.

How do you manage the cost and availability of your antiretroviral drugs (ARVs)?

The ARVs themselves are free, but the indirect costs, transportation, additional tests not covered by donor programmes, or treatment for other illnesses, can be challenging.

Because of my age, I sometimes need medication for blood pressure, arthritis, or other age-related conditions, and those are not free. So, even though my HIV care is subsidized, overall healthcare can still be expensive.

To manage costs, I plan my clinic trips carefully, buy drugs in bulk when possible, and rely on my children for financial assistance when necessary.

What would you like the federal government or health agencies to improve regarding HIV care?

I would like to see more funding for HIV programmes to reduce dependence on external sources; better training for healthcare workers, especially in rural clinics; improved integration of HIV services with general healthcare, so patients do not feel singled out; more transport support for elderly and vulnerable patients; stronger monitoring systems to prevent drug shortages; and investment in local production of HIV drugs to improve supply security.

What message would you want the public to understand about people living with HIV?

My message is simple: HIV is not the end of life, especially today when treatment is available. People living with HIV deserve respect, compassion, and dignity. Stigma helps no one. It only prevents people from getting tested and treated.

We are mothers, grandmothers, workers, and members of society. With treatment, we can live long, healthy, and productive lives. What we need most are understanding and support—not judgment. (Daily Trust)