Winter 2025 - Vol. 22, Issue 1

I don't know if I can ever survive without my family. Yes, I know and have read that family is everything, but I chose not to believe it for a long time. I always thought I could handle everything alone. I didn't need to answer questions, listen to stories, or remember to take my medication daily. I took my family for granted, forgetting their worth and value because I was so hard on myself. In the end, I realized that the essence of life and living is love, and love is here, in my family and among my friends. I can see it, I can feel it. Every day, people face different challenges—depression, abuse, bullying—and they can only overcome these if they have a solid family, a comforting shoulder to lean on.

Living with Sickle Cell Disease (SS) is a joy killer. It is worst when a crisis strikes. I feel damned, frustrated, and angry, with a million thoughts running through my head. I feel locked out from the world, as if I am the only one facing tribulations. I enter into forced solitude, feeling death in my bones. I hate to speak out; I prefer living in a vacuum, dark and isolated. I picture myself dead and decaying. But I have come to realize that all I ever needed to fight, to win, to overcome, is right here. Here in my home.

One thing about having a loving family is that they know you. They can tell, feel, and see when something is wrong. They understand you better than anyone. They can read you like a book. Sometimes they come to your aid unprompted; other times, they wait for you to ask for help. And sometimes, they push you to fight, to stand, to walk, to move, to talk, to run, to bend, to rest, to relax, and to try again. I have woven all these experiences into a tapestry of fine colors and strapped them upon my heart.

Sickle Cell Disease is a lot. It comes in different sizes, shapes, and colors. But thanks to God for the gift of friends. They are like ice, a soothing balm, warm and light, good enough to lift my spirits at any time. In school, when I am moody or stressed out, they talk with me, eager to hear my story and to help. When any of my courses make me sweat, Hameed, Phemmy, and Biggy take turns simplifying the material. Whenever I start to catch a cold or feel ill, Ife, Pedetin, and Imole take on the role of a mother, blanketing me with love and concern.

Before you could say "Jack," I would be wrapped in a sweater, socks on my legs, and balm on my hands and chest. Malta Guinness would be waiting for me, and a soft blanket to lie down on. The words "Thank you" never eluded my mouth.

I look back and feel like I am the most cherished being on Earth. I am no longer like a fluttering leaf. I have changed focus and am becoming. I pray for my family and friends. In the hospital, when I am in crisis, I cry—not because of the pain, but because of my family. They take turns staying by my bed. My dad comes with prayers. My mom, always worried, doesn’t talk much. My siblings come with stories, gifts, and ten thousand reasons to smile and feel alive. Plus, my phone constantly buzzes with calls and texts from well-wishers, sending poems and prayers. I am always eager to get back on my feet, to keep running and fighting and breathing.

Last night was dark and filled with twinkling stars. I love to gaze at the stars. I opened my curtains to let in fresh air. My sister walked in and informed me that dinner was ready. I walked out of my room, and the aroma of amala and cow meat filled my nose. In a few minutes, we were done eating, but no one stood up. We had a light discussion mixed with laughter; it was one of the best family conversations we ever had. I stood up to pack and do the dishes, but suddenly, I felt pain in my stomach. Before I knew it, my family surrounded me. Right there, I knew family means WE ARE IN THIS TOGETHER. Luckily, I was able to balance back. My mom asked if I had taken my medication, and I told her yes. I left everything and went to sleep.

This morning, I woke up feeling better. A row of sunlight illuminated the room. I remembered what transpired last night and had a sweet smile on my face. I sat down on my bed and recounted all the experiences of being a Warrior and having a supportive family. It’s been awesome, exciting, crazy, and lit. No one has ever treated me badly or regretted my being part of the family. I have always felt safe, warm, cherished, and welcomed at home. They are always eager to know how I am coping in school, whether I have any fears, if I have faced any bullying or stigmatization, and so on. I don’t think I could cope without my family and friends.

So, I made a promise right then that when I grow up and start my own family, I will teach my children to learn, to value, to remember, to use, and to say, "We are in this together."

I said my prayers and prepared to seize the day by the waist.