“He who has a why to live can
bear almost any how / Hat man sein warum? des Lebens, so vertrÃĪgt man sich fast mit jedem wie?” ~Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight
of the Idols.
It’s
typical Thaba Tseka weather as I walk home from work—sunny with a strong wind.
On the way home I decide to stop by a friend’s shop to see how she is doing. I
notice she is not there but a young man motions for me to join him. “I am
Tsieu,* Ausi (sister) Ithabing’s brother. She is not here today,” he says by
way of introduction. “I’m Ausi (sister) Kamohelo. Tell her I say hello,” I respond and turn
to walk away.
“Wait
a minute. Come here,” he motions. So I come closer.
“You
work with Help Lesotho,” he says.
“Yes,”
I respond.
I
see him looking at my red Help Lesotho bracelet.
“You
are the people who talk about AIDS.”
“We
do.”
“I
am one of those people. I am one of those people with HIV,” he says.
I’m
caught off guard. I’m not shocked
that he has HIV (after all approximately one in four people are HIV positive in
Lesotho), but I’m surprised that he’d state his status so frankly and to a
stranger no less. HIV/AIDS stigmas still persist in Lesotho and (in my experience) it is rare for
someone to volunteer their status.
“Thank-you
for sharing that with me,” I recover.
He goes on to tell me his story. His wife
died from AIDS while their children were still young. Tsieu made the difficult
decision to leave his children with his mother so that he could come and get a
job as a security guard in Thaba Tseka
to pay for his children’s
schooling. He tells me life is hard: He is sick. He is away from his family. He
misses his deceased wife.
“But I am not afraid,” Tsieu tells me. “My
children…they do not have HIV. I am living
to give them a better life.”
I have been reading Viktor Fankl’s Man’s Search For Meaning, and Tsieu’s story
reminds me of a line from Nietzsche’s Twilight of the Idols that Frankl
repeats over and over again: “He who has a why
to live can bear almost any how.”
Tsieu’s why are his children and the
future he wishes to give him. This frames his own reason for existence and
somehow makes the difficulties he faces easier to endure.
I believe that Tsieu’s particular why tells us something universal. When
we recognize how finite our own lives are we realize that meaning must be found
in something that transcends our own finitude. One of the most common ways
of achieving this is through loving and serving others. In my humble opinion,
this—not success—is the measure of a life well lived.
As I reflect on Tsieu’s story I wonder if
this is a lesson that is easier to see here, in this country, where it is
impossible to escape the reality of death because the temporality of life is
experienced on a daily basis.
*Names have been changed.
