My name is Lydia, and my life has been a testament to resilience and the power of faith. It all began in 2017, a year that marked the onset of a tumultuous chapter in my life. I started experiencing severe chest problems that robbed me of peace and kept me from being in class with my fellow learners. The dreams I had of studying hard and changing my family’s circumstances felt increasingly distant as the illness took hold.
The sickness was relentless, but I was determined not to let it defeat me. I vividly remember the day of the Form Four prayer at Nasokol Girls Secondary School. It was a moment that would change everything. My mother brought me a medication that allowed me to sit for my exams, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. I believed in my ability to do well, and thankfully, I passed my exams.
The joy of receiving an admission letter from Moi University was indescribable. It felt like a victory over my struggles. However, my happiness was short-lived. Just as I was preparing to join university, I began suffering from severe headaches that persisted for a month. My family sought medical help, and I was diagnosed with brucellosis. The treatment was supposed to last a month, but before I could finish the course, I began losing my memory and balance. I was falling down frequently, and on June 20, 2018, my condition took a turn for the worse.
Living with my sister at the time, she took me to a nearby clinical center for treatment, but my health continued to decline. Eventually, we decided to return home, hoping that familiar surroundings might bring some comfort. The situation escalated when I woke up feeling like a dying girl, drawing a crowd of concerned neighbors. Rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with meningitis and immediately put on medication.
Despite treatment, my condition did not improve. I was discharged in a weak state, but a week later, I was readmitted with a more critical condition: TB meningitis. It had severely affected my bodily functions, leading to numerous MRI tests to assess the damage to my brain. Each test felt like a step deeper into a dark tunnel, but I remained hopeful that there was light at the end.
Despite the overwhelming challenges, I held onto my dreams of joining campus. I prepared myself for university life, filled with anticipation and anxiety. But just a day before my admission, I woke up to find my entire right side paralyzed. My mother discovered me unable to move, and both my parents were left in shock, feeling helpless.
In that moment of despair, I found strength I didn’t know I had. I asked my mum to call two of her prayer partners, Mama Margaret and Mama Judith, to pray for me. They arrived quickly, and their presence provided a glimmer of hope. I was readmitted to the hospital, where Dr. Abraham became my guiding light. He offered encouragement to my family, whose spirits had been crushed by my illness.
Miraculously, members of the Holiness and Repentance Church visited our home, suggesting I see their spiritual leader for healing. Yet, my faith remained unwavering; I believed that true healing came from God. That day marked a turning point in my life. I stood up on my own two feet, defying the odds. No one could believe their eyes, and I boldly declared that if it was their spiritual father who could heal me, let him come and perform the miracle in front of the villagers. But If it was truly God’s will, I would accept it and let it be done. With renewed strength, I began to focus on my dreams once again.
In September 2019, I joined Moi University, still feeling like the odd one out among my peers. I believed I was the only physically challenged student, but soon learned that I was not alone. I made good friends who became my family—dads and moms who supported me every step of the way. My first-year fees were raised through a fundraiser, and I held onto the hope that one day my parents would no longer struggle to pay for my education.
At university, I met Mum Violet, who introduced me to church and Sunday school. It was a place where I found peace and a sense of belonging. Soon after, I met Mum Josephine, who informed me about scholarship opportunities for students in need. Eager to contribute to my education, I began working at the school mess during my free time. The staff embraced me as one of their own, treating me like family.
One Sunday, I found the courage to stand up at Grace Chapel and share my testimony during presentation time. The congregation was moved, and when Reverend Ekitallah asked me to remain after the service, I had no idea what was in store. After the service, he asked me to return on Monday, taking my name and registration number to register me as a needy student.
Some older students had warned me that no help came from the office for needy students, but I remained hopeful, believing my name could be a game changer. After the first year, our long holiday was disrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic
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