If you want to meet the emperor of Burkina Faso, you need to get up early in the morning. Every Friday, at around 6 a.m., the tribal king, or Moro Naba, presides over an ancient ritual at his palace in the centre of the BurkinabΦ capital, Ouagadougou in West Africa. Mossi tribal chiefs gather in the palace grounds and pay homage to the king while a traditional drama, Nabayius Gou (The Emperor Goes to War), is performed, depicting the magnificently-bedecked emperor being restrained by his wife and subjects as he sets off to make war with his brother.
After the ceremony, the emperor is made available for "interview". Protocol is very important - his advisers answer most of the questions on his behalf, while the Moro Naba looks on, grinning inanely. Later, one of the elders escorts us to a room featuring wall-to-wall football memorabilia, - trophies, pennants, deflated footballs, and pictures of the king in a variety of football strips. But the present Moro Naba isn't simply a fan; he was a talented goalie in his day, playing for the national team.
The Mossi are the largest and most powerful of the 60-odd ethnic groups in Burkina Faso and their emperor carries tremendous influence. Although the Moro Naba has no official political function, the government is said to consult him on all major decisions and relies heavily on the hierarchical tribal structure to ensure their acceptance.
The government needs all the help it can get. One of the poorest countries in the world, this former French colony ranks 159th out of 162 countries in the 2001 Human Development Index. Almost half of BurkinabΦ households bring in less than $100 per year.
In recent years, the situation has been exacerbated by the HIV/AIDS pandemic, the scourge of sub-Saharan Africa. In Burkina, as elsewhere, poverty is offering the ideal breeding ground for the spread of the disease and the prevalence of HIV/AIDS in turn is fuelling further poverty.
A new report shows that about half a million people - or close to 10 per cent of the adult population - are infected with HIV/AIDS. Life expectancy was 47 years in 2000 and, according to the UNDP, this figure will fall to 42 years by 2015 if the disease isn't brought under control.
These figures pale in comparison with the staggering statistics normally associated with HIV/AIDS in Africa as a whole: 28 million Africans live with AIDS, 2.3 million Africans died from AIDS in 2001; there are 11,000 new infections each day on the continent.
One of the biggest challenges facing international agencies such as the UNDP is to replace statistics rendered incomprehensible by their scale with the human face of the disease.
People like Mamadou Sawadogo are instrumental in this campaign. A 33-year-old nurse, Sawadogo contracted the disease in 1996 from a needle. He is frustrated by the widespread ignorance of the virus. At the time of his diagnosis, he says, even doctors were tremendously ignorant of the illness and many refused to touch him, let alone treat him.
He talks about "coming out" as an AIDS sufferer on his wedding day: "I gathered 60 friends at my home and told them I was sero-positif (HIV positive). There was silence, silence. I tried to bring the atmosphere back, but I think some of them left, they didn't want to believe it. Once you came out, you were condemned."
Sawadogo may be helping to change attitudes, but superstition and taboos still have a strong influence on the populace. This was highlighted last month after a nine-month-old baby was gang-raped by six men in South Africa. The incident arose out of a belief that sex with a virgin could cure an AIDS sufferer.
Many BurkinabΦ believe that AIDS is visited upon families by witches or evil spirits. Entire families find themselves ostracised if one member becomes ill. Sometimes this means they may have to abandon the victim to survive.
Associations throughout the country are working to break taboos and change behaviour. At the Yerelon Association for vulnerable women in the western city of Bobo Dioulasso, women say it's difficult to change the sexual behaviour of their partners, particularly in a society where polygamy is widely practised. The prevalence rate in women between the ages of 15 and 24 is five to eight times higher than that of men.
While behaviour and education are major obstacles in dealing with prevention, there are also huge difficulties in the area of treatment. At a cost of around 50,000 CFA (€80) per month, most anti-retroviral drugs (ARVs) are beyond the reach of the poor.
At the Notre Dame de Fatima research centre and AIDS hospice, pharmacologist Dr Jean Baptiste Nikiema is using phytotherapy compounds made from local plants to treat patients. While this is clearly more accessible at a cost of 5,000 CFA (€8) per month, none of the phytotherapy treatments are scientifically proven.
At the Centre de Traitment et Ambulatoire in Ouagadougou, only those who can afford it pay for testing. However, the centre must charge for drugs. One of the doctors at the centre, Dr Jean Baptiste Kiwallo, starts to cry as he describes the sense of frustration of not being able to help.
A recent WTO initiative to allow access to ARVs has not yet taken effect, according to President Blaise CompaorΘ.
It is clear that in the fight against AIDS in Burkina Faso, much will hinge on whether the international community is up to that task.
