In the late afternoon comes a moment of lightness. We buy henna and she shows me how to draw it on just right. We later have to wipe it off her daughter because she keeps squealing with laughter and smudging it. They sit here waiting for it to dry and I catch them both in a moment of thought. We are at a HIV/AIDS treatment centre. Her husband died a year earlier and I am helping to teach her daughter English. She is three, and was often in hospital last year. They are getting better together.