Survival to Service: Nelson’s Story
At 58 years old, Nelson Macharia has lived through many seasons of joy and sorrow. As the fourth child in a large family of ten, he learned early the value of resilience. His first marriage blessed him with three children and twenty years of companionship before his wife's sudden passing. In 2020, he found love again and remarried, choosing to embrace hope despite life's uncertainties.
Nelson's hands tell the story of his work—calloused from years as a mason and stained from the detergents he sells to supplement his income. Even with the strenuous nature of his work, it was during a routine medical visit in 2017 that his life took an unexpected turn.
Nelson had gone to the hospital concerned about his blood sugar levels, knowing he was diabetic. What he didn't expect was the additional test the doctors would run, or the positive HIV result that would follow.
The weight of the diagnosis fell heavily on Nelson. He made the difficult decision to tell his wife, believing honesty was essential and hoping for her support. While she stood by him, she declined to get tested herself.
The early days were marked by physical challenges that felt insurmountable. The antiretroviral medications, meant to save his life, instead triggered allergic reactions that left him dizzy and disoriented. Depression crept in, making Nelson question his worth and his future. His poor health continued to crumble, with his diabetes often feeling more threatening than HIV.
Alongside his physical pain, self-stigma became his harshest critic, convincing him that he was no longer worthy of life or love. By September 2023, Nelson had reached a crossroads. His need for medical support was urgent, but something else drew him to the Githongoro center— curiosity about learning new skills and perhaps finding a community that understood his journey.
The program offered more than medical support; it provided a lifeline to connection and growth. Nelson found himself particularly drawn to the prayer sessions and seminars, spaces where his faith could intersect with practical learning. It was here that he discovered his aptitude for making detergents—a skill that would bless him as a source of income and a gift he could share with friends and family.
The transformation wasn't immediate, but it was steady. The food packages provided during tough financial periods became more than sustenance—they represented care and community. Proper nutrition was necessary for Nelson to receive the benefits of his medicine, and the program ensured he never had to choose between medicine and meals.
The therapy and counseling sessions taught Nelson coping strategies that equipped him to face challenges with renewed strength. The group interactions taught him to rebuild his social confidence, reintroducing community to his life.
When medical complications related to his diabetes arose, Untold’s Medical Endowment Fund provided the money he needed for X-rays and proper treatment. The support he received from staff and fellow clients reminded Nelson that he wasn't facing his health challenges alone.
The transformation in Nelson’s life became evident to everyone around him. His active involvement in program activities led to his selection as secretary of his group therapy sessions, a role that stemmed from his commitment to the group. Center staff noted how he stood out from his cohort as someone genuinely invested in the collective success of the group.
The focus of Nelson’s life has evolved from active survival to serving those around him. The realization that proper medication and adherence allow for a normal, productive life has freed him to dream again and plan for a future he once thought was stolen from him.
"There is life even after HIV. People should practice healthy habits of living."
When asked what he's hopeful for today, Nelson's answer is elegantly simple: "Good health."
In teaching others to make detergents, leading his support group, and sharing his story, Nelson has become proof of his own message: there is indeed life after HIV.