HIV/AIDS is tearing Zimbabwean society apart, as WFP's Benson Gono discovered when he met Mamhlope Nyathi, an 81-year-old woman in Nkayi district forced to care for five of her grandchildren orphaned by the virus.

Dakamela Ward, Nkayi, March 6 - Mamhlope Nyathi spends sleepless nights praying and asking God for forgiveness. The Zimbabwean grandmother believes God is punishing her.

In the past four years, four of her eight children have fallen to victim to Zimbabwe's raging HIV/AIDS pandemic, leaving her to care for five orphans, all aged less than 10.

They need to be fed and sent to school, but Mamhlope's deceased sons and daughters left her with virtually nothing to bring-up her grandchildren.

People of my age should be cared for by their children. I don't know why God is punishing me
Mamhlope Nyathi, 81, grandmother

"Why should all this be happening to me? I looked after my own children after the death of their father and up to now I have never had any rest in my life," she says.

Her four remaining children abandoned Mamlhope's hometown of Dakamela in Nkayi district over two years ago and are spread in different cities around the country. None have returned to help.

"I don't know whether they are still alive or they are also dead. People of my age should be cared for by their children. I don't know why God is punishing me?"

Mamhlope, who only survives thanks to a WFP monthly food distribution, is just one of the increasing number of elderly Zimbabwean women forced into a tragic second motherhood by HIV/AIDS.

PAINFUL REALITY

Grandmothers taking care of orphans is just one of the symptons of an adult prevalence rate which now exceeds 33 percent. Child-headed households, 780,000 orphans and dying teachers are other painful realities.

With an average life expectancy that has plummeted to 42, HIV/AIDS is literally tearing Zimbabwean society apart.

The UN Secretary General's Special Envoy for the Southern African humanitarian crisis, James Morris, came face to face with the consequences on his recent visit to a home-care HIV/AIDS programme in Dzivarasekwa, a suburb of the capital Harare.

"I spoke to two young boys, one in seventh grade, one in fourth grade," said Morris after his visit, "Mom had died this year of HIV. Dad has simply left. Suddenly, these three kids had to fend for themselves."

"17-year-old children should be having one kind of life and it usually doesn't imply being the head of a household."

FOOD SHORTAGES

Zimbabwe's ongoing food crisis, which has left 7.2 million people in need of food aid, has exacerbated the impact of HIV/AIDS.

Food shortages rob the infected of one of the first defences against AIDS-related illnesses and early death - good nutrition. While households like Mamhlope's, who have lost their main breadwinners, are poorer and more vulnerable to starvation.

Even before the current drought, the responsibility for producing, transporting and marketing the family crop had fallen on Mamhlope's frail shoulders.

"The lack of rain has made the situation even worse," she says.

"After harvesting I would normally sell part of my maize crop. But I only managed to get maize seed in January and that was too late and so there are no crops in my fields."

PLEDGE OF FAITH

The lack of income from her maize crop means Mamhlope has been unable to pay her grandchildrens' fees at the nearby Dakamela Primary School for the past two terms.

"The school authorities are aware of my plight and they no longer bother to send the children away from school," she says.

"They know that when I get the money I will pay, but at the moment, it is difficult to promise."

In her own and Zimbabwe's current circumstances, Mamhlope is only prepared to make a single pledge.

"I hope that God will hear my prayers and give me more time to live and look after these innocent souls," she says, her frail voice wavering. "I don't want to think about what will happen to these children when I die."