JOHANNESBURG, South Africa — “Let’s hope they show up,” the doctor said, as I waited in the patient examination room at the Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital’s Perinatal HIV Research Unit.
It was exactly where I had been sitting 10 days earlier, the day I arrived in South Africa. I’d returned to the unit to speak with a HIV-positive mother and daughter. They were already 30 minutes late.
“Do you think they will come?” I asked the doctor.
She shook her head, with a disappointed look on her face. The pair had only agreed to speak with me if I promised not to take pictures or use their names, and now it looked like they may not speak with me at all.
Fifteen minutes later, a petite young woman walked through the door. A knit hat, which matched her periwinkle eye shadow, covered her short hair and framed her thin face.