It Still Feels Like Yesterday: A Father’s Love, A Daughter’s Battle With Leukemia

Mpundu Valerie

Disclaimer: This is a personal testimony shared for awareness purposes. Readers are strongly advised to consult a qualified and registered healthcare professional for any health concerns. This article contains discussion of grief and loss. If you are struggling, please seek counselling and support.

It all boils down like it was yesterday.

My wife succumbed to injuries sustained from a head-on collision and left me with our only child, Raphaella.

She was only 2 when her mother died. I was broken, shattered, and bruised. I didn’t want to move on. I wanted to waste my life on alcohol and drugs. I was driving myself to the edge and was on the verge of losing it all.

It wasn’t until my mother sat me down and told me I was all my child had and that I had to put my ducks in a row. Her words pierced right through me. I remembered the lengths and depths she went through to fend for me and realised I had to put my house in order.

At age 4, I took my child back. I gave her the best education money could buy. She never lacked. I made sure to cover everything for her, even the most difficult times for her as a girl. My money never felt wasted because Raphaella was an academic giant. She slayed every academic script and was always in character. Years went by. Life was kind to us. We never lacked. I made sure she was provided for.

One day, while on a business trip, I got a call and immediately had to rush home. She had been complaining of severe headaches. In those 6 weeks of her pain, she was hopeful and always grateful. She was much stronger than me.

The 6 weeks spent in hospital were the worst of my life. My little angel was trying to be strong for me. She was discharged and we returned home. Life returned to normalcy.

We carried on with our lives, and 4 months later, I was called back home again. They said she was feeling pain all over her body. She was screaming. She was taken in for observation, and the doctor wasn’t candid enough with me. He just said, “Your child is sick, and we need to keep her here for observation. We have asked the nurses to prepare her. You will see her shortly.”

It was while I was in the corridors that I realised the ward they had put my child in. I knew it was cancer. At that moment I just stared the nurse in the eye and asked, “How bad is it?”

She refused to say anything. I had to put up a front. “What did they say this time? You know I can’t wait to sit for my finals. I really want to slay this Ordinary Level and prove I am beyond ordinary. Wait and see,” she said, giving a faint smile before retiring.

I stayed by her bedside and held her hand, pondering what life would be. Hadn’t life treated me unkindly so far? Why would it be taking away my reason for living? With every day in hospital, she might have understood her circumstances and would always ask me when I would remarry. She wanted siblings and every other thing a child would want.

Hers wasn’t wishful thinking. She had hopes and big dreams. She wanted to lead and make the world a better place. Before she died, in her last few days, she openly told me about her condition. “We know I won’t make it through to the exam room. Leukemia has taken me down. I am glad I got to spend all my life with you, Dad. Maybe I can finally meet Mom.”

I wasn’t strong enough for those words. My angel was in pain, and despite loving her so much, I prayed for her death more than her survival. Not because she was meant to die, but I couldn’t bear to watch her in such pain. Leukemia is a cancer of the blood and bone marrow, the factory inside our bones that makes blood.

The marrow makes too many abnormal white blood cells. These abnormal cells crowd out healthy red cells that carry oxygen, healthy white cells that fight infection, and platelets that stop bleeding. That is why a child with leukemia may have persistent severe headaches, bone pains, fatigue, frequent infections, easy bruising, bleeding, and pain all over the body.

It is diagnosed through blood tests and a bone marrow biopsy, and treatment is led by specialists. Early presentation to a clinic saves time and lives. The day she took her last breath, I felt a huge part of me violently snatched. I had held on to a life she had already given up on.

It’s been two years since she left, but the memories are still held captive in my heart and thoughts. The Part We Don’t Talk About: Grief Needs Counseling. I thought I was strong. I thought time would heal. But grief does not heal on its own.

I carried guilt, anger, and questions that almost broke me twice first when I lost my wife, then when I lost Raphaella. What saved me was counseling. Sitting down with someone who did not judge me, who let me cry, who taught me that it is normal to mourn and that it is okay to not be okay. If you have lost someone, if you are watching a loved one go through cancer, please do not suffer alone. Talk to someone. Go for counseling. Join a support group. Speak to your pastor, your elders, your clinic.

For parents: take your child’s persistent pain seriously. A Full Blood Count, an early referral, and early counseling for the family can make the journey less lonely.

Raphaella wanted to lead.

She wanted to make the world a better place.

She did not get the chance to sit for the examinations she dreamed about.

But even in death, my daughter continues to teach me something.

Love remains.

Grief remains.

But healing sometimes needs help.

And asking for that help is not weakness.

If you or someone you know is struggling with grief, depression, or overwhelming thoughts, please reach out: Talk to your nearest clinic, or call a trusted counselor. If you want to share your journey, reach out at 263774778179

childhood leukemia awareness