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Like any girl, sixteen-year-old Chanda Kabelo has secrets. She is determined to be loyal to her rebellious friend Esther, she worries about passing her exams, and she wishes she didn’t have to spend so much time listening to her Mama chat with their nosy neighbour Mrs Tafa.

But one secret threatens to silence everything.  All around her people are dying and everyone is afraid to say why. But Chanda knows - it’s because of AIDS.  Chanda’s Secrets is the tense and deeply moving story of one girl’s struggle to rescue the people she loves from a tragedy that is destroying her world.  

A deeply moving, suspense-filled novel, first published to critical acclaim in the US and Canada.

Reviews:

'Smart and determined, Chanda is a character whom readers come to care for and believe in, in spite of her almost impossible situation.' SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL

'... the tense story and the realistic characters — caring, mean, funny, angry, kind, and cruel — will keep kids reading and break the silence about the tragedy.' BOOKLIST STARRED REVIEW

'Painful and powerful in equal measure – as it should be. An extraordinary literary achievement.' MICHAEL MORPURGO

            I’m alone in the office of Bateman’s Eternal Light Funeral Services. It’s early Monday morning and Mr Bateman is busy with a new shipment of coffins.

            ‘I’ll get to you as soon as I can,’ he told me. ‘Meanwhile, you can go into my office and look at my fish. They’re in an aquarium on the far wall. If you get bored, there’re magazines on the coffee table. By the way, I’m sorry about your sister.’

            I don’t want to look at Mr Bateman’s fish. And I certainly don’t want to read. I just want to get this meeting over with before I cry and make a fool of myself. Mr Bateman’s office is huge. It’s also dark. The blinds are closed and half the fluorescent lights are burned out. Apart from the lamp on his desk, most of the light in the room comes from the aquarium. That’s fine, I guess. The darkness hides the junk piled in the corners: hammers, boards, paint cans, saws, boxes of nails, and a stepladder. Mr Bateman renovated the place six months ago, but he hasn’t tidied up yet.

            Before the renovations, Bateman’s Eternal Light didn’t do funerals. It was a building supply centre. That’s why it’s located between a lumber yard and a place that hires out cement mixers. Mr Bateman opened it when he arrived from England eight years ago. It was always busy, but these days, despite the building boom, there’s more money in death than construction. The day of the grand reopening, Mr Bateman announced plans to have a chain of Eternal Lights across the country within two years. When reporters asked if he had any training in embalming, he said no, but he was completing a correspondence course from some college in the States. He also promised to hire the best hair stylists in town, and to offer discount rates.

            ‘No matter how poor, there’s a place for everyone at Bateman’s.’

            That’s why I’m here.