From stigma to strength: Honorine’s HIV journey in Cameroon

They said she looked like “someone living with HIV”. In the lanes around her home in Cameroon, children joked that the rashes on her skin made her look like a frog, that she was turning into a monster. At home, no one explained why she was always ill. For a long time, Honorine did not know what was happening inside her body, or why she had to swallow the bitter pills she sometimes hid away or quietly threw into the bin.

Honorine lost her father to AIDS when she was very young. No one explained what had happened or what it might mean for her. Soon after, her own health began to falter. She was constantly ill, thin, exhausted, covered in painful skin eruptions. Instead of answers, she and her aunt were given superstition: a traditional healer told them that her father had loved her so much that he wanted her to “die with him”. In the absence of clear information, rumours rushed in to fill the silence. At school and in the neighbourhood, people gossiped, pointed and laughed. She became “the girl who was always sick”, the girl who could not leave the house. The shame and isolation were as heavy as the illness itself.

When she was finally tested at the hospital, the result was clear: Honorine was living with HIV. But even then, her family did not sit her down to tell her what that meant. As a child, she only saw pills and hospital visits as another burden. Without understanding, it was easy to skip doses, to pretend she had taken her medication when she had quietly thrown it away. Her body paid the price. She remained very ill, and the rashes on her skin became another visible mark setting her apart from everyone else.

Everything began to change when, at 15, she met counsellors who decided that silence was no longer an option. Honorine joined a support group for adolescents living with HIV, backed by UNESCO’s O3 Programme, which supports the delivery of health education in safe and inclusive school environments and links young people to youth-friendly health services. There, for the first time, she heard clear, age-appropriate information about HIV, treatment, and her sexual and reproductive health and rights. She listened to other young people share stories that sounded painfully familiar. Little by little, knowledge replaced fear.

“In that group, I learned so much,” she says. “It is where I found the courage to speak, with confidence and freedom.” Understanding how her treatment worked helped her take it seriously. Being surrounded by peers facing the same challenges made her realise she was not alone, and certainly not a monster. The facilitators did more than offer medical facts: they helped her reclaim her dignity, her body and her future.

As she grew older, Honorine also had to confront the pressures and power imbalances in her relationships. Friends urged her to accept the advances of a man who had been courting her for a long time. When she finally agreed to be with him, he ended the relationship soon after, telling her he could never be with “someone who is HIV-positive”. It was a brutal moment, but also a turning point. With the language and self-esteem she had gained, she began to see clearly how stigma, misinformation and gender inequality trap young women in harmful situations. She chose, instead, to set her own boundaries and to insist on honesty with any future partner.

Today, Honorine speaks openly about her HIV status. “I can talk about it anywhere,” she says. “Even if you stigmatise me, it no longer affects me.” She urges parents to discuss health, sexuality and HIV with their children instead of hiding the truth. For young people who cannot get this information at home, she encourages them to seek out trusted organisations, ask questions, and resist peer pressure. Her message to others living with HIV is equally firm: hold your head high, disclose your status to your partner, and remember that self-respect is the foundation of a healthy life.

Honorine is now studying nursing and working as a model—two paths that might seem worlds apart, but for her share the same purpose: using her visibility to change minds. In her first modelling competition, her chosen cause was to end stigma and discrimination around HIV; the public voted her their favourite. As a future nurse, she dreams of sitting with younger patients, telling them her story so they will not feel as alone as she once did.

Through UNESCO’s O3 Programme, young people like Honorine are turning a childhood marked by silence, shame and misinformation into a powerful force for change. By investing in accurate education, youth-friendly services and inclusive school and community environments, the programme is not only improving individual health; it is reshaping how families, communities and whole societies talk about HIV, sexuality and the rights of young people.

Source: https://www.unesco.org/en/articles/world-aids-day-stigma-strength-honorines-hiv-journey-cameroon