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| Image Courtesy Michael Fitzsimmons |
His was a face that
beamed with the hope of a nation hungry for recognition in the international
boxing world. And so were his quick jabs that decimated and stupefied opponents
in the ring. Gilbert Josamu was an athlete by all definitions of the word.
Youthful looks on a handsome face and a barrel chest made him a darling of many
and the object of erotic fantasies of debauched women with fiery loins. But
looks can be deceptive—deep within, Josamu kept a deadly secret with him . . . .
Born and bred in the dilapidated
suburb of Mbare near Zimbabwe’s capital Harare, Giro, as he was popularly and
fondly known, defied all odds and rose to become a national middleweight
champion. Many poverty stricken Zimbabwean youths looked up to him in
admiration as he was the picture perfect example of what talent can do to
change one’s tides of fortune; Josamu was the prove that poverty is not a curse
that cannot be neutralized in Africa.
But we are never fit
for fate. And this is a sorry fact of life. Just when Josamu’s star seemed to
be getting brighter and his boxing career unassailable, during one of the
routine medical check-ups in July 1986, he tested positive for HIV, the virus
that causes AIDS. Transfixed and confused, Josamu couldn’t come to grips with
his sudden misfortune. He was a star and idolized by so many people who saw him
as the perfect human being. Just how does he go out there and tell them that he
has AIDS? How will the world receive this news? People in his neighborhood had
been beaten to death by angry mobs for confessing their HIV positive status.
Should he tempt fate? What will become of his career . . . ?
Josamu opted to take a
path that will 14 years later demonize and make him infamous—he zipped his
mouth, forged his medical reports and continued doing what he did best.
However, in the depths of solitude, Josamu was a tormented man. The risk of
infecting other boxers in the ring was very real as were the many bloody cuts
and bruises synonymous with the sport. As the guilt of exposing other innocent
boxers to the imminent risk of infection heavily weighed on him, so did his
career start to dwindle and in 1993, he lost the championship to Ambrose Mlilo
in a humiliating defeat. Apparently, Josamu called for the fight to be stopped
after he suffered a deep cut that was bleeding profusely. People would later
understand why.
They say that whatever
is hidden in the ice eventually comes out in the thaw. It wasn’t long before
the tell tale signs began popping up like a sore thumb. Soon, Josamu certainly
knew, truth will out. And so, in November 2000, Josamu finally gathered enough
courage to tell the world what it was curious to know as his health had by now
become a cause for concern and rumor mills were constantly on the spin, spewing
filth of every kind possible to imagine.
Pushed to the edge of
the precipice, Josamu emotionally confessed to have fought 21 fights since
testing HIV positive in 1986. The world was stunned. Dismayed boxers who had
fought against him shivered and quivered as they sought to know their fate in
various health facilities. General pandemonium broke loose in the boxing world.
Journalists, like vultures, loaded their cameras to exploit yet another human tragedy
for profit and clicked away the last moments of a dying man. Josamu became instant
headline news and condemnation flew in from every Tom, Dick and Harry that had
a mouth which could talk. Why was he coming out now? Was it an act of
redemption or retribution? The questions seemed endless. But what was certain
was that a national hero had now, just because he had AIDS, become a public
enemy.
On June 22, 2001, the
day before he died, a local newspaper splashed the final picture of Josamu
taken alive on its entire front cover. The headline was devastating. Now very
frail, he was sleeping on a small mattress outside his family home in Mbare. To
his side, was placed a large portrait from his heydays. The juxtaposition was
painful to the eye and offered a rare moment of soul searching and reflection. It
served as a stark reminder to the reality that everyone is at risk and silently
answered anybody who doubted the existence of AIDS. A few days later,
distraught family and friends gathered at a local cemetery to bid farewell to a
fallen hero.
We might never know for
sure how Josamu acquired the virus. In fact, we should not try to find out
because that is a step in the wrong direction in the war against AIDS. What is
important is to celebrate the fact that Gilbert died a hero. Even though late
in time, at least, he had the good sense to step out of his cocoon and tell the
world he had AIDS. He could have stayed morose and withdrawn while silently
spreading the virus before dying silently just like many other famous
personalities have done. He had that option. But instead, he chose to turn his
misery into something that can benefit the society—Giro was kind enough to give
us his story and to those who care to learn, an idea on how to deal with pain.
Here was a man who used
the last ounce of strength left in him to educate the community about this
deadly disease. Borrowing a leaf from the late Ugandan legendary musician
Philly Lutaaya, through Josamu’s courageous actions, HIV got yet another human
face; a face that gave other sufferers the courage to go about their everyday
activities by ignoring the sadistic stigmatization associated with the disease.
In his small little way, Josamu gave the fight against AIDS in Zimbabwe and the
world by extension the ammunition it desperately needed. His contribution
should never be forgotten.
*In loving memory of
Gilbert “Giro” Josamu (1958-2001). Literature Aid fondly remembers you.
