* I am Marama Mullen. In 1993, aged 22, I slept with a musician. I had no idea he was carrying the HIV virus. Three months later, I tested HIV-positive. It changed my life forever. This is my story. Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2018 (FAST, RHYTHMIC DRUMMING) We got back to the motel about 5am. I was nervous. I'd never been picked up in a bar. He was all over me. I asked him to wear a condom. He said he didn't need to. I woke up, and he was having sex with me. That was when, I believe, that I got HIV. I was born Rhonda Marama Mullen-Tamati. Now I use my Maori name, Marama. Growing up, I was living in a house full of music. My dad was a well-known musician in the '70s and '80s. And we moved around a lot, living in house buses, vans and house trucks. The way we lived is like... Definitely not your white-picket-fence routine, OK, but... town after town, she slept on more stages, probably, than she did her own bed. I had no sense of normality as a child. I was surrounded by people who were using drugs, lots of alcohol, lots of music, concerts. I was very much a result of the flower power childhood of hippies. You know, I could sit here and say it was fun` And music was such a huge part of our lives, and the things` the places that we travelled to, the experiences we had, I wouldn't swap for anything. But it's a selfish life, growing up around people who use drugs. When there was no food in the cupboard but there was plenty of drugs; when he never had money but everyone could still get high. I knew, though, that I wasn't allowed to say anything, cos the police might come and take my parents away. Both my parents used drugs, growing up. I watched them in their addiction. And I also watched them when they got clean and went into recovery or went into treatment for their addiction. And I sorta started realising that I had issues of an addictive personality myself. It was starting to play out in my adult life, so I went to a treatment facility at 19. And not that I was heavily involved with drugs and alcohol, but I had the potential to. 23rd of July 1993, we'd just buried my uncle, and I'd been working at the marae at Whakarongotai Marae for the whole week. We were about to bury my auntie the next day. We were all highly emotional, this is my cousins and I. We'd really had a tough week. The uncle that we buried, we were really close to. And we decided` We'd heard that there was an African band going to be playing at the pub right next-door to the marae. I suppose everyone just wanted to have a good time, let our hair down, and, yeah, so we went over to the local hotel, and next-door, we called that the night club bar space, and so we went there, and the band was there, and that was us. My pregnant sister needed somewhere to sit, and someone gave us some stools right at the front. We were all at the pub. There was quite a few of us, and all having a good time. And... Yeah, she was enjoying the music. Think it was kinda reggae music. It was a good atmosphere. I just noticed that... one of the dancers and conga players was quite... unusual-looking. Probably at the time I thought he was handsome. Once they made that connection, the eyes just` Yeah, and that` That didn't stop. It was just` Yeah. He looked at her. She looked at him, and then it was like she got quite excited. He came over, and he told me that I was a good dancer. And I was, sort of, a little bit shocked cos I was dancing quite... I thought quite sedately. But, you know, he started giving me compliments, saying that I was attractive, and... And it was, sort of, yeah, throughout the whole night, that's how it was. It was just every time he had a break, he'd come and talk to me. I kinda had a bit of excitement, but I knew that it wasn't going to be a relationship. There was definitely interest from other women, but he just didn't seem interested in anyone else. I think once he got his mind set on that, that's who he wanted to be with for that night. It was Marama, and... yeah. So, the band stopped playing around 2.30, 3am. He'd introduced himself by then. His name was Peter. And he asked if I would like to come with him down to Johnsonville. I talked to my cousins, cos I knew that they were heading down there for a party, so I thought, 'OK, yep, I won't be alone there, so, yeah, I will go.' Oh yeah, I forgot already. Yeah. We were invited to go back to their` back to their hotel, and she was really keen, and I was just like, 'Well...' I just didn't feel comfortable going, but she went, cos, you know, she was pretty excited that someone was paying her so much attention. So, I told Peter that I wanted to go home and get a few things. So, I wear contact lenses, so I raced home and got my contact lens solution, I got a bag of condoms, and, yeah, just a little overnight bag. Came back to the bar. I saw my cousins. They'd decided that they weren't gonna go down there for the party, but they gave me a phone number to ring if I needed it. I was nervous, because I had a couple of long-term relationships by then, but I'd never been picked up in a bar. Yeah, I wasn't one for one-night stands at all. I got in the car with him. There was me, Peter and a couple of other musicians, and we drove to where they were staying, and` Well, on the way, he started telling me about his life. He told me that he was living in Auckland, in Ellerslie, that he had a daughter. And showed me a photo of her. He had a photo of her in the wallet. And that they were gonna continue travelling around the country, touring around the country with this band. We got back to the motel at about 5am. He was all over me. I asked him to wear a condom. He said that he didn't need to. He got a little bit defensive. He kinda said, you know, 'Look at me. I'm healthy. I have a healthy child, 'and I don't like wearing them cos they hurt.' And I just accepted that and said, 'OK.' Well, I didn't say anything. I just went along with it. So, we initially had sex once. And then... we fell asleep. And then we woke` I woke up, and he was having sex with me, and I was still asleep. (SOBS) So I wasn't prepared. And it hurt. And I got up and went to the bathroom, and I could see that I'd been torn and there was bleeding. I had a shower, and it was sore. So it was during that one-night stand, and particularly the second encounter of sex, that I believe that I got HIV due to the tearing that happened. * * It was Saturday the 24th of July 1993. I'd just been swept off my feet by an African musician called Peter. And I'd just had my first one-night stand. I did not know he was HIV-positive. That morning, Peter was as charming as ever. He made me breakfast, and we talked for a couple of hours, until about 1pm. He wanted me to come with him that night to a gig they had in Wellington. I couldn't because of the funeral, the tangi. I'd never had a male be so attentive and charming to me. The only thing that stopped me from falling head over in heels is cos I knew he was a musician, and it` kind of the way his behaviour was, I wouldn't be surprised if he had a woman in every port. As we were leaving, he gave me a gold watch, a woman's gold watch, and it was, kind of, a strange thing to give me. I wanted to believe it was a gift from the heart and that he was being genuine about it. Then I overheard someone in the band or the manager asking if anyone had seen a watch. And then I thought, 'Hmm, something dodgy here.' By the time I got to the tangi and we went up to the burial ground, I'd lost the watch. It disappeared. When things happen like that at tangis, it's like a bit of a warning sign, and there were actually people at the tangi that knew that I'd slept with him, and I remember people saying` telling me to be careful. (COUGHS) So, about... Just over a week after meeting Peter, I started to get very sick, and I had vomiting and diarrhoea, very dizzy and in a lot of pain. Cos of the vomiting, because of all the pain, the incredible pain she was in, you know, I was thinking more of common diseases that` 'Oh, shit, you know, what?' I didn't know. I didn't have any idea what would create such a pain in a person's body. It was a very unexplained illness. I had no idea what was wrong. And I'd never felt that kind of sickness before. Having to hold somebody in your arms while they're going through this stuff, and they're sweating, and they're... Oh, it was awful. I went to see my doctor. And while I was there` I mean, I had fears that I was pregnant. She asked me a lot of questions about what have I eaten. She thought maybe I'd gotten something from, you know, eating at the marae, which is common, and then she just said, 'What else have you done that's different?' And I said, 'Oh, I met a man from Kenya.' And she said, 'Right, HIV test.' Just to be safe. I didn't think HIV was gonna be an issue, because I didn't think he had it. And I was more concerned about being pregnant. Two weeks after, the doctor told me then that I was` had come back clear for HIV. When she gave me the negative test result, the doctor said that I would need consecutive testing, because they couldn't tell that soon anyway. I felt like, 'Oh, I dodged a bullet. I'm fine.' I just forgot about it. After having that one-night stand, I started to, sort of, have a grow in my confidence, and self-esteem was boosted a little, and I had another one-night stand a month later. In August. We didn't use condoms, and I didn't know I was a danger to anybody. And it was during that time we started hearing all of these different rumours. (PHONE RINGS) It got round really fast that I'd slept with this African musician. And my father coming from the muso world, he'd heard stories about him. And he rang me and talked to me and my mother and told us both that the guy was no good, that` just be careful. Cos they knew he was coming back to Waikanae the next month. And I was like, 'Yeah, yeah, Dad. I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I can handle myself, you know.' So, I prepared myself to go to see him again on the 3rd of September. My sister made me a dress, which I was quite proud of. And I went back to the same night club, the same place, the same band, same music. But I didn't feel the same. My mother came in and tried to get me to leave. We had a conversation, and he was trying to get her eye while she was talking to me. And I was saying` I was using my hands, 'No, no, no. You're` You know, come home with me now.' He was a bit possessive, a bit controlling. He was kinda bossing me around a bit. And I walked into the bathroom, and I looked at myself in the mirror, and it was like... It just overcame me. And it was 'go home'. I just had this feeling. Go home. Meanwhile in Auckland, I was contacted by a solicitor acting on behalf of a woman saying that she believed she'd been infected with HIV by a person by the name of Peter Mwai, that he knew he had HIV and had unprotected sex. I was quite shocked, actually, cos I hadn't dealt with a case like that before. From subpoenaed documents, I determined that Peter Mwai had been diagnosed with HIV in May 1993 and that he would've known that he had HIV when he had unprotected sex with the Auckland woman. I subsequently arrested Peter Mwai for a charge of wilfully infecting with a disease, namely HIV. I was concerned that this woman may not be the only woman involved and there might be others who were at risk. Maybe a month and a bit later, went to the shop` dairy to get the Sunday News for my parents, and there he was on the front page. He had HIV, and he'd been sleeping around in Auckland, and as soon as I'd seen that, I said, 'Oh, I gotta go tell her this.' I heard my cousin's Holden before he turned up. It was a V8, so it was pretty loud, so` And I thought, 'He's coming over pretty early.' He come in the door, and he had a newspaper, and I recognised the name. And it was about Peter Mwai, and he was going around the country, and he was infecting people with HIV. I felt my knees give way. I actually sank to the floor. And... all I could think of is that I'd unexplained illness, and I knew without a doubt that he'd passed it to me, and I was shaking, and my voice was cracked, and I was screaming. Fuck, fuck! And I wanted my mother. All I got was a call and a scream. She was screaming. And I was thinking, 'What the... 'heck is going on here?' That's when I went round to her place, and John showed me the newspaper. We just sat and cried. We didn't know what to do. Our lives changed that day. All I wanted to do was be in the bathroom, cos I thought it was a sterile place, it was the safest place for me to be. I didn't want to be alone. And I was terrified, absolutely terrified. (PHONE RINGS) People started ringing the house, cos they'd seen the paper as well, and they all knew that I'd slept with him, and... You know, there was a panic. There was quite a big panic happening at the same time. (PHONE RINGS) I just felt myself shutting down and wanting to hide. In the newspaper article, it had a detective's name and the phone number, and it urged anyone that had had contact with this man to ring this phone number. I was actually unable to do it. My mother rang the phone number and spoke to him first. And then she gave me the phone,... and he said to me, 'God willing you don't come back with a positive HIV test, 'but if you do, will you help us stop this guy?' And I didn't hesitate. I said, 'Sure.' They knew that I had that negative test, but they asked me to go and have another one. A nurse took my blood. And I remember sitting in the car, sorta like, my mind making a deal with god. You know, 'If I've dodged the bullet, God, I'll be such a good girl.' You know, I went through all this kind of, you know, bargaining stuff, because it was such a long wait waiting for the results. We went into the hospital for the results, and the nurse said, 'I'm sorry to say, but it's come back positive.' And I remember feeling a surreal... disconnection to myself, like I was floating above myself, looking down into the room. My mother was crying. They basically told me I had eight to 10 years to live, that there was no cure, there was no medication. They also told me to forget having children and it was a death sentence. (SOBS) I felt angry with myself, cos I should've known better. I felt like I was... easily manipulated in believing him when he said that he didn't need the condoms. Judging him on how he looked and not having enough knowledge about what someone looks like when they're living with HIV. I was angry` very angry with myself. * * It was October 1993. I was 22 years old, and I had been diagnosed HIV-positive after a one-night stand with a musician called Peter Mwai. I suppose that's a better way of saying, 'Oh my gosh, I've got the Aids.' Cos that's how everyone used to refer to it, eh, over 20 years ago. It was like, 'The Aids. The Aids.' Like, 'Don't go near anyone with the Aids.' It was basically a death sentence. I took solace in writing music and listening to music just to get through it. # Anei ra te whanau. # O te whare oranga. # E tu tahi tatou. # The sexual health clinic, they did a service where it's like tracing, where they go back and they tell your previous partners and ask them to get tested. One of them I didn't know had a girlfriend, so she had to be tested. It was quite a drama. He actually came over to my house, and we had a bit of a confrontation around it. Did you think about how it was gonna affect me? I was really apologetic, and I felt so awful. After the story broke in the second week of October, I received hundreds of phone calls from concerned women that had sexual contact with Peter Mwai. In the office, there were six phones, and all of them were going at once. I'd receive a phone call from a woman. All they'd say was, 'Is it true?' 'Is Peter Mwai HIV-positive?' And I'd say, 'Well, yes, he is,' and then tears. After I was diagnosed, the police and the community AIDS resource team had organised a meeting of a group of women ` around 20-odd women ` who'd had sex with this man. We basically went around the room. People telling their stories of how they'd met him. They were happy that they tested negative. At that stage, I was the only one in the room that had had a positive diagnosis. When it finally got to me, I just said, 'Well, 'yeah, I've tested positive. You know. 'I don't know what else to say.' And, yeah, the mood in the room changed. It was heart-wrenching. You know, you could see the relief on some of their faces. You could see their sadness. I got a lot of pity. A lot of people gave me pity. We kinda got the courage to tell other people in the community and our whanau, hapu and iwi, and the negative response was just awful. Then the whole community knew, and no one wanted her to be a part of anything, and, sorta, anything when we were doing in the marae, nobody wanted her touching anything. My body was adjusting to having the virus in it, so any opportunist illness out there, I would catch it, and it would just really be exaggerated in my body. I ended up in hospital... and treated with, you know, triple gloves and stuff like that. And one time I'd cough so much, that my oesophagus had ripped raw and was full of pus. And, you know, like, they would lock me up in an isolated room and sort of walk in and throw medication at me, and I'd have to, pretty much, look after myself. The only one that stuck there through all of it, for all of that part was my mother. And she'd nurse me, and she didn't care. I've had people tell me later that after I've stayed at their house that they'd burnt the sheets that I slept on and destroyed everything that I used in their house, like cups and plates and utensils. That overwhelmed me. It just blew me away. So, by Christmas 1993, and I was really ill, I remember` Oh, now I'm gonna get emotional. Um, my cousin, he travelled to come and sing to me. And... it was a really tough time. And he sang, and then he left again, and... I'll never forget that, because... it told me how much he cared about me and was worried for me. And... # O te whare oranga. I realised, you know, that not only I had got this virus, but my whole whanau and hapu had got it as well. The impact of my diagnosis had hit a lot people. I needed to get... some support and help. And... I went back to the treatment rehab that I had always gone to. And I... It was called Tuhinga Mai. It was a taha Maori programme in Hanmer Springs, and I went back there, and... I talked about my diagnosis, and I got the support I needed while I was there. Probably the hardest part was actually going through the court trial It was a test case. It was unheard of. No one had been ever charged in this country ever, and they couldn't charge him with murder, because she wasn't dead. So they had to charge him with wilfully causing grievous bodily harm. I was the only woman they could find that was infected by him after June 1993 that they could say he had knowledge that he had HIV before he met me. So the pressure through police, the media was really on me as the woman he had knowledge of his status before he infected me. After a legal challenge, the charge was amended to one of grievous bodily harm. What that meant was we didn't have to prove that he intended to infect someone with HIV, but merely that he was reckless knowing that he had HIV having unprotected sex. Meanwhile, our investigations showed that the passport that Peter Mwai had entered New Zealand on, although being a legitimate passport, had been obtained using a stolen Kenyan identity card, with the real Peter Mwai still remaining in Kenya. As far as we're concerned, his identity is false, and we've got to ascertain who, in fact, he is. A mystery man? Certainly a mystery man, yes. I thought, 'Well, who is this person? Where does he really come from?' The closest I got to identifying the real name of the person alleging to be Peter Mwai who was infecting woman was the name Peter Netu. Sources revealed to me that this person was in fact Ugandan. I was struggling with the court trail. I was ripped to shreds, pulled apart,... accused of so many things. I lost track of how many things that I was accused of doing and being and the kinda person I was. He didn't actually look once at me at all. He just put his head down, and I could` The bench was here, and I just saw the top of his head the entire time. I saw him. I saw him. I, um... I pukana'd. That's what I did. I saw` looked straight through him. I just thought he was just evil. He was just a blinkin'... (SIGHS) I'd come home, and there'd be cameras and TV cameras at my back door, and even though I was supposedly under the suppression of victim protection, they still knew who I was and where I was. It was on talkback radio a lot. And a lot of the MPs and a lot of males, I found, were giving opinions on what they thought was going on. I was... very supportive and happy for her to be doing what she was doing ` and proud of her too. But the after effects of every court day weren't so nice ` tears, devastation, just that feeling of` A lot of time of feeling like she wasn't there. At one point I was ready to back out, and the detective in charge, he got hold of me, and he actually introduced my mother to another mother of a woman` or a young girl that he'd infected. He'd raped her. He'd forced himself on to her. And then she got tested, and it was found that she was positive. It was then that I realised that this is bigger than me. If he got out tomorrow, he will continue infecting people. Kenyan musician Peter Mwai made news... So, I'd given my evidence at the court trail, and then I was sent home. It was just before the 6 o'clock news, and I got a phone call, because it was going to be on the news, from the detective saying that he'd been found guilty... of grievous bodily harm. The victims and the complainants in this matter have basically have been vindicated in coming forward and going through, as one said, hell for 14 months. I felt numb. I felt... relieved that it was over. Peter Mwai was sentenced to seven years' imprisonment. And then it felt like I was dropped like a hot potato. It was like, 'Oh well, now you gotta die. 'You've` He's given you this virus. We've locked him up. It's over for you now.' I believed that no one would ever want me with this virus, that I would always be alone. Within my whanau, it was me that had the passion to learn about everything to do with being Maori. And the thought that I couldn't have children and that the line would end with me was more painful than... the diagnosis itself. I changed my name. I tried to change what I looked like. I` Yeah, I moved around a lot. I was living to die. I didn't think I had a future. * I was a key witness in a trail of an African musician called Peter Mwai, who infected me and at least two other women with HIV. Even though Peter Mwai was convicted and sentenced to seven years in prison, it felt like I could never get away from him. I think I had, maybe,... A year's grace, I call, where I lived in a town where no one knew. One of the magazines resurfaced at a high school, and it was, sort of, yeah, small town, and that magazine made its rounds, and I was told that someone had seen the magazine, and I went into my employer's and actually got them all together, cos it was a trust, and told them all at once. In July 1995, Peter Mwai unsuccessfully appealed his conviction and sentence and also faced charges of passport fraud. Peter Mwai was deported on the 24th June 1998 and returned to Kenya. A nurse, another police officer and I transported Peter Mwai back to Kenya. He showed no remorse whatsoever for his actions in relation to infecting the women with HIV. He died of tuberculosis on September the 8th. He was 33 years old. It crossed my mind when he died that... again I'm living with, at the time, a fatal disease, a disease that ends in death. And it confirmed that, you know, that could be me. So I'd had the virus around seven years, so I was heading towards having AIDS, and my immune system was breaking down, yet I felt perfectly fine. The only thing I noticed was my hair was falling out. I went to the doctors, and he said, 'It's time to start medication.' And I didn't hesitate. I know a lot of people do because it's such a toxic medication. It's been equal to having chemotherapy. And I must say, the first six months were awful. I was incredibly sick. But I went from one million viruses per blood cell to less than 50. They said, 'Well, you could live another 30 or 40 years,' and I was like, 'What?' (CHUCKLES) For me, when I was told that I had HIV, the grief I felt wasn't so much about my life and dying. The grief was I wanted to have children. Back when no medication was around, the risk was one in four chance of passing the virus on. So I gave up that dream. I let it go. And it wasn't till I was told after being on medication for quite a few years by my doctors that there's no reason that I couldn't have a child and that the percentage, as it was, 25% had gone to less than 1%. Immediately, I asked my doctor about this, and he said, 'Yes.' And he referred me to a fertility clinic. While I was waiting for a sperm donor, I met the father of my children. I did get some negative comments while I was pregnant with my daughter. Mainly, most of it went to my mother. It was around being irresponsible; who was going to look after my daughter when I died; what if I passed the virus on to her. She doesn't only` not only gets discriminated because she's got HIV and she got it off Peter Mwai and it went to court, right. What's happened is that she has HIV. She's Maori. She's a Maori woman. And she comes from a family that, well, you know, she was brought up by a couple of drug addicts, so, you know, that was to be expected. I thought, 'I'm going to start making people aware that, you know, 'treat me as a person, not a patient or a number.' Or don't, you know, treat me as the HIV girl. Treat me as a woman with dreams and hopes. So we founded INA in 2008, and that was for Maori and Pacific and indigenous people living with HIV and for those communities affected by HIV, and I just threw my entire will and purpose behind building a credible organisation. My son was born in 2009. So, with my children, I used to drag them along with me from babies, but they'd be in their car seats, and I'd take them to all the meetings that I went to, all the times I went and did education, the times I did speeches, the conferences, and I took them along because I wanted them to see what` this is what Mummy does. So they've always known that Mummy's had HIV. I found that the more information, the more knowledge they had, the stronger they were to deal with the stigma they were receiving. I never ever thought that when I got HIV from Peter Mwai in 1993 that I would ever be doing any of this kind of work and travelling the world and being so involved and understanding what it means to be a global advocate on HIV. I've been involved with the International AIDS Conferences, which can have up to 35,000 people attending them. Once I started getting involved, I started realising that the indigenous voice was not being heard, and I got actively involved with indigenous peoples living with HIV and affected by HIV around the world. She's now able to inform people, and she's become an ambassador to, you know` so people have got more empathy and understanding of what it actually is. And she's a great spokeswoman for it, and she carries herself with, you know, just with mana and pride. Ms Marama Mullen-Tamati for services to people with HIV and AIDS. (APPLAUSE) When I was nominated for the New Zealand Order of Merit and Queen's Birthday medals, I didn't really understand it. It... wasn't until I actually got it that I realised the kind of calibre of people that were getting it, and I realised that, 'Oh, yeah, this is not just a...' I dunno. (CHUCKLES) Smile. (APPLAUSE) The thing I'm most proud of doing is actually having children. And then I` Yeah, when it came to work, I would say... cheering and standing up in the United Nations General Assembly as the co-chair on a session on HIV, I felt` I got up, and I did a karanga, and I did a waiata, and I probably felt my most, like, 'I'm finally there'. For a good 10 years, I was completely ashamed and embarrassed by the way that I got HIV. You know, who wants to be known for that, the way that they got it, because they had unprotected sex with someone. I carried that, and I blamed myself. I knew better. When the police said to me, 'Help us stop this guy from infecting others,' I felt I had a duty. Over the years, I've met around eight women that he infected. Over time, 22 women had come out and actually spoken about how they had got infected by Peter Mwai. And over half of them, at least, had not gone to the police. And I met them through the work we do with HIV, through the camp outs that you have, where most of us actually met. It's hard to know how many women he ultimately infected with HIV. I'm aware of 11, who contacted me during the investigation, who told me that they had had sex with him and were now HIV-positive. During the investigation, I received information from a number of anonymous women who'd advised me that Mwai had forced sex on them, had raped them when he didn't get what he wanted, that he'd forced them to have sex with him without condoms. And that if he wanted something, he took it. There were hundreds of women who had sex with him, and there will be a lot more who were infected as well, I'm sure. It was so controversial that I had absolutely no understanding of the long-term ramifications of what the trial was going to do. I only could see my own little personal world, which had been so severely impacted, and, yeah, the victim or the victimology or the way that I was thinking at the time, you know, I could only see what he had done to me. As the years went on, I started realising that I'm not his victim, yet every media story would still name me as his victim. And as I got stronger and as I got more knowledge and got more understanding about what criminalisation can do and how it's not a positive thing, I've become an advocate against criminalisation, unnecessary criminalisation. If I had the chance to do it again, I would rather have gone down the marae justice way of doing things, cos I never got to speak to him. I never got to confront him on why he would carelessly do this to me. Peter Mwai got victimised too, and he got played. In the media, he was played. And that wasn't fair on him, but it also wasn't fair on us. So when they played him up as the monster, OK, what did that make Marama? My life completely changed from one night, one event, one mistake, in some people's eyes, and I look at the changes in the life that I've had because of that one night, because of Peter Mwai, and I sit back now and I'm... I'm grateful for the life I have today, for the children that I have today, for the world and the experiences I've had today, because of one night. It changed me forever. And who knows who and what I would have been if it hadn't happened. I feel like I was meant to get this. I am not a victim. I am Marama Mullen, and I am living with HIV. Copyright Able 2018