She woke up that morning feeling very excited. She was to speak in front of the class that day and this was usually her forte. She liked public speaking and each time she was penciled down to do that in school, she was usually very ecstatic. She jumped out of the bath getting ready to put on her school uniform for the short walk to school.
She noticed the little pimple like growth by her chest. Just a few metres from her armpit and did not give it a thought. At school, she gave a wonderful speech climate change and could not wait to get back home to tell her mother how it went.
On her way home, she noticed that her temperature was getting high. These funny fevers she thought. They have been coming and been going for a while now. Giving her slight discomfort. They had gone to the nearby pharmacy and were given the usual drugs which her dad, the neighbourhood butcher, the ones they call ‘eleran’ could barely afford. Still, the fevers came in a much more regular flow.
By the time she got home, the fever had reached feverish points and she was nearing faint. Luckily, she got to her father’s meat stall from where she collapsed into his arms. She woke up on a bed staring into his loving eyes, but what she saw there scared her.
They were speaking in hushed tones ad her father was non-pulsed. The little pimple had grown into a full-blown tumour almost overnight and the fever this time, was wickedly high. Her father tears in, his eyes kept assuring her that she will be alright.
She had been diagnosed with what could be potential cancer. She was 14yrs old and had her dreams for a bright future. A future where she would take not only her family but her whole community out of the frustrating cruelty that was their existence, mired in poverty and squalor. That mission service was about to be cut short by this wicked diagnosis.
She barely understood what was going on around her or even for that matter how this swelling that she had even poked with a needle could kill her. All she knew was that she would finish school and become the medical doctor she was born to be. This little challenge would not stop her; she would fight it and she will conquer it, but first, her humble butcher father had to look for the N15 million cost of the surgery in India. As she wandered into another deep coma, the helpless look she saw in his soft eyes caused her more pain than this wicked swelling on her left armpit. She loved him and hated to cause him this much pain. She was his daughter and she will live.
Aminat Sanni is a beautiful 14 year-old recently diagnosed with early-stage cancer. She will need N15 million for treatment and corrective surgery in India. Her father, Adeniyi Sanni has asked Nigerians for help because as a butcher, he can barely take care of the essential needs of his family of four talkless of shouldering a treatment bill this enormous.
Katunga Media, working under its Katunga Humanities platform has taken up the case and have appointed United Capital Trustees as Collecting Financial institution on the campaign to raise the sum.
Kindly send donations to: UCT/The Butcher’s Daughter
UBA acct no: 1020932357
sort code: 033152048