When Silvia Petretti was diagnosed with HIV she thought her life had come to an end.
She was 30 years old and had contracted malaria after a holiday in Senegal. The doctors ordered blood tests and asked whether she wanted to have an HIV test at the same time. When the results came back, malaria was suddenly the least of her worries.
"I was completely devastated, paralysed and terrified," she recalled. "I thought I was going to die a horrible death. I couldn't tell my friends or family. I went home, locked myself in my room and cried for three days straight."
To be diagnosed with such a fearful disease was heartbreaking, but there was one small silver lining. Ms Petretti discovered she had been diagnosed just as the first batch of successful anti-retroviral medicines were coming on to the market. She was immediately put on a gruelling course of medication to stop the virus from replicating.
"To begin with I was on 18 pills a day, some with food, some without food. I had very dry skin, nausea, tingling over the body, diarrhoea. It was incredibly demoralising," she said.
Over the past decade, scientists have drastically improved the medication used to fight HIV, allowing patients to live increasingly normal, healthy lives. With the right treatment, HIV-positive mothers have a 99 per cent chance of giving birth to HIV-negative children. The life expectancy of someone living with the disease has also increased significantly.
Ms Petretti, who is now 44, takes only four pills a day with no side effects. Her viral load – the measure of the amount of HIV in her bloodstream – is undetectable and, she says, she hasn't had a sick day since being diagnosed. But, although improvements in medicine have changed the quality of life of thousands for the better, many in the HIV community are unhappy about the way society views them.
"HIV isn't epidemic anymore, not in the UK," says Ms Petretti. "Do you want to know what the new epidemic is? Stigma. Stigma is everywhere."
Nowhere are society's attitudes towards HIV more fraught than during the criminal prosecutions of people who have passed on the disease to their lovers through unprotected sex. Earlier this week, the German pop star Nadja Benaissa appeared in court charged with one count of grievous bodily harm and two counts of attempted bodily harm for allegedly sleeping unprotected with three men between 2000 and 2004, despite knowing she was HIV positive. Only one of the men is now HIV positive – but that hasn't stopped German prosecutors from charging her for "assaulting" her two other lovers.
For many, such prosecutions are clearly justified. If you are HIV-positive, failing to use protection is wrong, and people who do so should be brought to justice. Infecting someone with HIV, prosecutors argue, is akin to murder.
The prosecution of "deliberate" or "reckless" HIV transmissions, however, is a relatively recent phenomenon and – ironically – has coincided with the disease becoming less deadly.
About 40 countries around the world have either enacted laws or used existing legislation to bring prosecutions against HIV carriers who have infected others. In Britain, at least nine people have been convicted, primarily under the Offences Against the Person Act 1861, a law that treats the HIV virus as a potentially deadly weapon. Nobody has yet been prosecuted for "intentional transmission" because it is so difficult to prove. Instead, prosecutors go for the lesser charge of "reckless transmission", which critics say criminalises behaviour rather than proving intent.
Outside of Britain, HIV carriers have been jailed even when they haven't passed on their infection. There has been no recorded incident of HIV passing through saliva, but that didn't stop a court in Texas in 2008 from handing down a 35-year sentence to Willie Campbell, a 42-year-old homeless man who spat in the face of police officers. Edwin Cameron, a South African judge, commented: "It stuns the mind that someone who has actually not harmed anyone ... could be locked away for 35 years. The inference that his HIV status played a pivotal role in sending him away for so long is unavoidable. In short: the man was punished not for what he did, but for the virus he carried."
drive from www.independent.co.uk