For as long as I can remember, my sister, Mary, had battled epilepsy. It all began when she was just ten years old. We were a simple family in Kisumu, and the first seizure terrified all of us.
I still remember that day vividly — she fell suddenly while playing outside, her body trembling uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back, and foam forming at the corner of her mouth.
We had no idea what was happening, and the nearest hospital was miles away. That incident marked the beginning of a nightmare that would haunt her for the next sixteen years.
Over the years, her condition became more than just a health challenge; it took over her life completely.
She was constantly anxious, fearing the next seizure at school, at home, or even in public.
Simple things that most of us take for granted, like walking to the market or attending social gatherings, became monumental obstacles.
Mary’s confidence deteriorated, and she became withdrawn.
Even when she tried to attend school or pursue her hobbies, the stigma of epilepsy followed her everywhere. People would stare or whisper, and some outright avoided her.…CONTINUE READING