On this day a year ago, a young woman lay dying, in a cold and spartan house, in a village in South Africa's remote Eastern Cape Province. AIDS had eaten into her body; she weighed less than four and half stone. 1 that she could barely leave her bed. Her mouth was infected with the thrush that makes it 2. Her name was Prudence Radebe and she was resigned to her fate. Today, Prudence is still alive. In fact, she 3 that it's hard to believe just how sick she was. Her weight has 4, to sixty-one kilograms. Her skin is smooth and shiny. She carries 5 from the well up the hill with no difficulty. And, every so often, she likes to does stretching exercises 6behind her house. Prudence knows why she is still alive. "Anti-retroviral drugs saved my life", she says, matter-of-factly. I first met her 7, when she started taking anti-retrovirals. Since then, I've been travelling down to the Eastern Cape every two months 8. We do a lot of AIDS stories in this part of the world—but not many like this—with a happy ending. Prudence is a clever,cheerful person, with a loving family— 9 with a warm feeling, it shows there is hope amidst the dark, 10. Prudence is, above all, lucky. She'd heard that the charity Medecins Sans Frontieres had started an anti-retroviral project 11, and she applied for treatment. A fluke of geography, if you like—there are almost 12 people in the Eastern Cape, and only 4,000 are receiving free anti-retrovirals. But Prudence is not just lucky—she had to 13 that she was serious and dedicated. She had to learn about all 14 which she now needs to take every single day for the rest of her life. She discovered that she might build up resistance if she does not take them properly, and that they can 15. Today she has the zeal of a convert, her language is peppered with the terminology of 16, viral-load, voluntary testing, nevirapine. If Prudence took you round her village, you would realise just how fortunate she is. This is one of the most beautiful parts of South Africa— 17 the steep, green hillsides, and children's voices echo across the valleys. But it's a landscape that is haunted by death. Prudence is surrounded by tragedy. I fear the worst for her neighbour, Nontandozela, 18 for the past six months, too weak to stand. Nontandozela's sister, Victoria, was also sick and lying in the bed on the other side of the room. 19 Victoria died. Nontandozela's daughters watch in silence. Their faces betray no emotions, but I can't imagine their fear. The men in the family; the fathers of these young girls 20; nobody knows how to contact them. And nobody has enough money to pay for a taxi to take Nontandozela to the clinic where Prudence started her treatment. If nothing happens, Nontandozela's days are numbered.