Introduction On a hot, rainy day in 2004, I met with a group of non-married (1) HIV-positive women who were members of an HIV support group for men and women living in the northern Nigerian city of Kano. (2) In the non-governmental organization (NGO) (3) office where we assembled, a number of stiff, high-backed wooden chairs lined the perimeter of the room. I saw in an adjacent storage closet a dozen or so new sewing machines stacked high, ostensibly to be used in the women's skills acquisition program that the NGO sponsors. Several HIV prevention bumper stickers, along with a poster congratulating the organization's founder for being awarded a prestigious grant, decorated the walls of the office. In this formal space intended for job training, education workshops, and other HIV awareness projects, I conducted interviews and had many group discussions with these women that summer. (4) Working outside of the rigid structure of support group and NGO meetings held in that same room, the women and I spent much of our time together lounging on mats across the center of the floor gossiping about men: What do women do to attract men's attention? What is the difference between a good boyfriend and a bad boyfriend? How do you please your partner? How do you relate to your co-wives? (5) What are the reasons behind the high rates of divorce in Kano? How has being HIV-positive impacted these expectations and experiences? Can HIV-positive women (re) marry and to whom?