Behind the walls of the Keffi Custodial Centre where the bitter scent of captivity lingered, I met Blessing Ogah—a quiet middle-aged lady who was referred to me for legal support by the welfare officer of the prison. Ogah’s tale began with a heart-wrenching loss: the death of her seven-month-old baby.
The realisation that she had infected her poor baby with the disease that killed him pierced her soul. Blessing’s anguish was not the HIV ranging inside her. I…
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