The Wrecking Ball

“Steve, your biopsy is out—you have osteosarcoma.”

Those words still echo in my mind every single day. That moment changed everything. I remember the shock, the fear, the overwhelming uncertainty. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Time stood still. I sat there, numb, trying to process a reality that didn’t feel real.

The doctors’ recommendation? Amputate my leg.

This wasn’t just a medical suggestion; it was a wrecking ball to my entire future. My world spun out of control. How could I lose my leg at such a young age? I was full of hopes, dreams, and ambitions—and now facing the possibility of becoming physically disabled for life. The thought was overwhelming. There were moments I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. My body was there, but my spirit was being crushed under the weight of this new reality.

And yet, amid the chaos, something else began to form—a quiet, flickering resolve deep within. I knew I wasn’t just going to fight this disease; I was going to conquer it. As they say, “Cancer is a word, not a life sentence.” I clung to that saying like a lifeline in a stormy sea.

The Weight of Survival

Treatment was long and painful—far more grueling than I had ever imagined. Endless hospital visits blurred together, the sterile smell of chemotherapy wards etched into my memory. With each round more brutal than the last, it felt like my body was being poisoned from the inside out. My hair fell out. My skin turned pale. My strength evaporated. I was in constant pain.

Some days, even lifting my head felt like climbing a mountain. But it wasn’t just physical. I sank into a deep depression. My world—once vibrant and full of possibilities—felt like it was crumbling piece by piece. My three-year fiancée left me. I didn’t blame her; cancer doesn’t just test the patient—it tests every relationship, every assumption, every dream. But it broke me. Her departure wasn’t just heartbreak—it was a dagger in an already bleeding heart.

On top of everything, I lost my job. That, too, felt like a betrayal. The financial pressure only compounded the emotional burden. It felt like one blow after another. At times, I wondered how much more I could take.

But even through that immense pain, I wasn’t alone. I had my family.

A Mother’s Love

My mother—my rock—stepped in with a depth of love that still humbles me. After my limb-sparing surgery, where a piece of bone from my hip was grafted to replace the removed section in my right knee, I returned home barely able to care for myself. My mum used to wash me. Bathe me. Feed me. Love me without question. Her tenderness kept me afloat when I was drowning in despair.

Stitching the Invisible Wounds 

That’s when A Fresh Chapter (AFC) entered my life, bringing with it a sense of hope and purpose I didn’t even realize I needed.

Through AFC, I was introduced to powerful emotional healing tools that truly transformed my recovery journey. Concepts like Acknowledging the Dark and the Light, Embracing Vulnerability, and Holding Space weren’t just therapeutic buzzwords—they became lifelines. They gave me language for my pain and a way to express the chaos within. I finally had a safe place to feel, to share, and—most importantly—to heal.

It was a profound shift. I began to understand that healing isn’t just physical. The emotional and psychological wounds run deep. But with the right support, even those wounds can begin to close. Through guided reflection, shared stories, and the unwavering support of the AFC Community, I learned that vulnerability is not a weakness. It’s a strength. It’s courage. It’s the first step toward reclaiming your life.

Mizizi: Giving Back, Building Community

Today, I’m proud to call myself a survivor. But more than that, I’ve turned my journey into something greater. I now serve as a facilitator for Mizizi—a survivor-led AFC program dedicated to supporting cancer patients and their caregivers here in Kenya.

Mizizi empowers individuals with knowledge, tools, and the emotional support they need to face cancer head-on. Being part of Mizizi allows me to walk alongside others in their journeys—to share my story, hold space for theirs, and help them find strength within themselves. Mizizi is about meeting people where they are—in the rawness of their fear and uncertainty—and walking with them toward hope.

We’re not just spreading awareness. We’re actively dismantling myths, building community, and inspiring resilience. In a society where cancer is often stigmatized or misunderstood, this work is revolutionary. Every day, we remind people that they are not alone—not in diagnosis, not in treatment, and not in recovery.

Thriving Beyond Cancer

At AFC, survivors are not only surviving—we are thriving. We are living proof that healing is possible, and we are committed to giving back. Because in the fight against cancer, community and compassion are as vital as medicine.

My journey with osteosarcoma has taught me that while cancer may mark your life, it doesn’t have to define it. It may take your strength, your confidence, your plans—but it cannot take your will unless you let it. With the right support, emotional tools, and a strong community, it’s possible to move beyond the diagnosis and truly thrive.

So if you are facing the abyss, as I once did, know this: healing is not linear, and it’s not always pretty. But it is possible. And you are never alone.

Osteosarcoma redefined Steve’s life. Now, as a cancer survivor, facilitator, and advocate with Mizizi, he helps others heal. Steve believes healing comes from sharing stories, embracing vulnerability, and building community.