In 2017, at the age of 32, I received a shocking diagnosis that would change my life forever. “Madam, this appears to be breast cancer, and if confirmed, we will need to perform a mastectomy,” the doctor stated, turning his back to me while examining a specimen. In that moment, his words faded away as I thought about my three children, the degree I had just earned, and the future I had envisioned. Faced with the possibility of death, I questioned the purpose of my sacrifices, which included long nights in the library away from my children.
A week later, the biopsy results confirmed the doctor’s initial assessment, and the decision for a mastectomy was made. My family and friends quickly voiced their opinions on the matter. My mother insisted that a traditional healer could cure me, urging me to cancel the surgery. Friends brought me to various churches, believing that prayer alone could restore my health. As the surgery date approached, the pressure intensified, with some suggesting I lacked faith for considering medical intervention.
Despite the assurances that the mastectomy would allow me to reclaim my life, that was not the case. Shortly after the procedure, a group of doctors informed me that I would require additional treatments, including chemotherapy. Following their departure, a friend who worked as a pathologist convinced me that chemotherapy would be detrimental and that surgery alone would suffice. Influenced by this advice, I opted out of chemotherapy and instead sought alternative remedies, focusing on so-called “superfoods” like cucumbers, soursop, and various vegetables.
The initial two years of my journey were isolating. The stigma surrounding cancer in Nigeria made it difficult to connect with others facing similar battles. While I had a supportive network, none could fully comprehend the anxieties and self-image struggles I encountered as a cancer patient.
Approximately 16 months post-mastectomy, the cancer returned. Once again, my doctor recommended chemotherapy, and once again, I declined. This time, I traveled to a village in northern Nigeria, seeking out an herbal cure. I was determined to avoid chemotherapy at all costs. Sadly, a few months later, the aunt who had introduced me to the herbalist, and whom we believed had overcome her breast cancer, passed away after a silent struggle that had progressed significantly before her death. It was then that I uncovered a family history of cancer on my maternal side, prompting me to rethink my choices and return to the hospital for chemotherapy.
The Nigerian health ministry reports around 127,000 new cancer cases annually, with approximately 80,000 fatalities. Breast cancer is the most common form of cancer among women, accounting for about 23% of new cases. Despite the high incidence, awareness remains limited, particularly in rural areas, leading to underreported cases and late diagnoses. This lack of understanding fosters stigma and myths, sometimes resulting in patients being abandoned or ostracized. Consequently, Nigeria has the highest mortality rate for breast cancer in Africa.
While undergoing chemotherapy, I resolved to become an advocate for other patients, aiming to challenge the stigma and inspire positive change in cancer care. Since 2022, I have been sharing images of my surgical scars on social media. Capturing those first photos was challenging; I was acutely aware of the shock they might evoke in the photographers and worried about how my children would react. Despite mixed reactions, with some urging me to keep my diagnosis private, I was determined to portray the reality of breast cancer and provide hope to other women struggling with self-esteem after a mastectomy. These photos symbolize resilience, and now, nine years after my diagnosis, I take pride in my efforts to combat the shame and secrecy surrounding cancer in Nigeria.
My journey has been fraught with challenges, yet I confront cancer with as much courage as I can muster. It poses a significant challenge, but it should not dictate my life. I am thankful that my photos, stories, and advocacy resonate with many women in Nigeria and beyond, providing them with the strength to face their own diagnoses.
Gloria Chinyere Okwu is a global cancer advocate and the author of “On Close Examination,” published by Ouida Books.
