16/07/2025
“My friends laugh at me a lot. It makes me too shy to talk or play,” Mercy said quietly, a small smile creeping onto her face. “But my mother tells me not to mind them. She says I should just be myself.”
Mercy is six years old. She’s a quiet, thoughtful girl who loves to observe more than she speaks. Recently, doctors discovered a tumor growing in her brain, something no family ever wants to hear.
Her journey started when she was just three. Her mother, Stella, decided to send her to stay with her aunt, Phiona, so that she could attend a nearby school. It was a practical choice, a sacrifice for the sake of Mercy’s education. But in the months that followed, something changed.
At first, it was just small things: Mercy looked more tired than usual. She had frequent headaches, fevers that came and went, and she didn’t seem as playful. Over time, these symptoms grew worse. Mercy, who was once active and cheerful, became withdrawn and weak. Trips to local clinics didn’t help much. Tests were done. Medicines were given. But nothing really improved.
Stella and Phiona were doing everything they could. But watching Mercy fade while not knowing what was really wrong was heartbreaking. Eventually, a doctor told them: “She needs to see a specialist.”
That referral led them to CURE Uganda. Here, things finally started to make sense. After scans and tests, the doctors confirmed the cause: Mercy had a brain tumor. It was devastating news, but also, in a way, a relief. Now, they had answers. Now, they knew where to begin.
At CURE, Mercy was started on treatment to ease her symptoms and prepare her for surgery. Phiona, who has cared for her like her own daughter, has been at her side every step. “We are scared, yes,” she admits, “but we are also hopeful. These doctors have given us a reason to believe that Mercy can get better.”
She gets emotional when talking about the support they’ve received. “To everyone who has helped us, even people we’ve never met, thank you. You are giving Mercy a second chance. This surgery means she can play again. She can go back to school. She can have her childhood back.”
Phiona dreams of the day Mercy runs with her friends again, no longer worried about being laughed at, no longer held back by pain or fatigue. “That day will come,” she says. “And when it does, we’ll remember that it was made possible by your kindness.”