THEY sit in a room, blinds drawn and the lights turned off, clutching the drinking glasses they painted half an hour earlier.

Some of their faces are illuminated by lit tea candles sitting in their tumblers.

It is 3.30pm on a Saturday afternoon at the Communicable Disease Centre at Tan Tock Seng Hospital, and the 20 'artists' are members of a support group for HIV-positive women.

They range in age from their early 30s to mid-60s. There are Singaporean housewives, as well as Indonesian, China and Thai spouses of local men. Four female social workers sit with them, to moderate and translate.

Under a programme by the Patient Care Centre, this support group has been meeting four times a year since 1999.

Women make up 10 per cent of all infections in Singapore and since 1985, more than 370 women have been infected with HIV.

Many of them contract it from their husbands or boyfriends. Of the 423 new HIV cases last year, 31 were women.

Judy (not her real name), 62, lights a candle. She puts it in her glass, holds it up and tells the group that she has painted two flowers - one standing upright, one lying prone - and lots of hearts.

She explains in Mandarin: 'The hearts represent love and compassion. If our loved ones and society give us love and compassion, we will have the strength to stand strong. Without acceptance and understanding, we will be like a flower that has fallen. But we have to be brave. We have to live and to stand.'

The advice, expressed with eloquent sincerity, strikes a chord. Many in the room wipe away tears.

Others take their turn. A sobbing 34-year-old from China tells the group she does not know what she has painted. The virus, she says, has robbed her of her future and identity.

'What is going to happen to me?' she asks, voice cracking, as a social worker offers her tissue paper and holds her hand.

An Indonesian woman asks, in rapid but fractured English, why women who have cancer are considered 'pretty', and those with HIV 'disgusting and dirty'?

Discrimination is a word which crops up often during the hour-long session. In discussing the stigma they live with, anger, frustration and fear find expression, as do wisdom and acceptance.

A woman in her 40s consoles the rest: 'So what if we have to take medication for the rest of our lives? We just pop pills. People with diabetes and kidney disease put up with needles and injections.'

And humour too.

'My husband gave it to me and is very remorseful. At least, now I know he will not philander anymore,' quips the China wife of a Singaporean man.

In a 2005 speech, Dr Balaji Sadasivan, then the Senior Minister of State for Health, said not only are women more susceptible to HIV infection than men, but they also bear much of the social burden.

He added that it is women who usually care for infected men, manage the household and meet financial needs. However, women and their children seldom get support when they fall ill.

Social worker Ho Lai Peng says the support group sessions are very well attended. Their common fate dissolves barriers, and social workers say it is normal to find Bishan auntie and Batam wife locked in a comforting embrace after the sessions.

Judy says: 'I always go home happy. I know I'm not alone, and I count my blessings when I hear the stories of those who are younger and who don't have support.'

Judy's story is a stark reminder that the disease can hit anyone.

Her late husband left the family when her four children were growing up. She worked hard, cleaning houses to raise them and give them a good education.

'I tracked my husband down in Thailand and asked him to come home when the children were grown up and had good jobs. I didn't want people to say that my children were unfilial,' she says.

She contemplated suicide when she found out she had the disease but the love of her children saw her through.

She says: 'Now that I am alive, I must help. I want to tell other people, especially women, not to give up and to live.'