Finding strength through my faith

My first experience of cancer in the family was when I was 20 years old & in my second year at University. It was Christmas time in 2008 when my aunty, who had been experiencing severe abdominal pain for months, was finally admitted to A&E. Despite multiple trips to the GP, nothing had been done. After several tests, just three days later, we were told she had pancreatic cancer. The cancer had already spread to her liver. The prognosis wasn’t good – she was given about six months to live.

I remember my heart sinking. I was shaking, and there was a pit in my stomach that wouldn’t go away. 

I was extremely close to my aunty. She had practically raised me. I couldn’t imagine a world without her. Her diagnosis crushed me. Often, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Despite her condition, she wanted to visit family in Pakistan. I thought we had 6 months. I planned to see her after my exams. But she passed away just six weeks after the diagnosis.

I don’t remember much, but I remember the moment my dad called me downstairs. I knew she was gone. I cried, but I don’t think I truly grieved. I returned to University just two days later. I tried to block it out and carry on. I thought that was the right thing to do. But in hindsight, I see that I fell into a deep, dark depression over the next few years.

The only hope I found during that time was through my faith – my salah, the Qur’an, and dhikr. My aunty and I used to pray together and recite Qur’an together. A few years before she passed away, I helped her memorise Surah Yasin. She would practice with me, and without realising it, I memorised it too. It was something we shared. It bonded us.

After she passed away, I would often find myself sitting on the prayer mat late at night, crying and talking to Allah. Looking back now, I realise I should have reached out for help. I should have spoken to someone. But in that darkness, my faith was my light.

In 2017, my father travelled to Pakistan, as he did every year. I went to Heathrow airport to pick him up, and as soon as I saw him, I noticed he had lost a lot of weight. His clothes looked very loose on him. That same pit in my stomach returned.

We took him to the GP, who referred him for further tests. Within two weeks, he was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I clearly remember thinking “I can’t go through this again. I can’t lose him”.

Thankfully, the cancer had been caught early. It was stage 3, but the doctors assured us it was very treatable and often responded well to therapy. He began six cycles of chemotherapy, followed by radiotherapy. After three months, we were told the cancer had gone, but they continued treatment to be sure it was fully eradicated. 

During his first chemo cycle, my father had an allergic reaction to one of the drugs, which had to be stopped. The treatment came with many side effects – difficulty walking, a lack of appetite, poor sleep. He didn’t want to be alone, and that’s when I realised, he was scared too. I had always seen my father as the protector. But in that moment, I realised I might lose my protector. 

As the eldest, I took on the responsibility of holding our family together. I knew my mum was deeply worried. My brothers were too, although they tried not to show it. My sister was in her final year of University. We all did our best to keep things as normal as possible. Between my mum and me, we took care of my dad. Work became my safe space. It was the only place I didn’t have to be “the strong one” all the time. I could talk to my colleagues and friends about what I was really feeling – the fear, the uncertainty & the exhaustion. In many ways, it helped me cope. But at home, I wore a different face. I held it together for my family. I had to. I couldn’t show them just how afraid I really was.

That year was one of the hardest years of my life. But by Allah’s infinite mercy, my dad made a full recovery. He is still with us today – cancer free, Alhamdulillah.

My biggest support through both of these life-changing experiences has been Allah and the Qur’an. Every time I have faced hardship, I’ve found strength in my faith. I know that as long as I have Allah, I will be okay. The verse, “Indeed, with hardship comes ease” (Qur’an 94:6), always comes to mind.

These were some of the most difficult times of my life, but my faith kept me moving forward. I learned many lessons during this time – about life, about people, about myself. I learned what truly matters and what doesn’t. I learned that health is a blessing we take for granted. That time is precious and fleeting. That genuine people – those who show up in your hardest moments – are rare and invaluable. But most of all, I learned that no matter how lost or broken I may feel, I am never alone – Allah is always there.

To anyone walking on this journey, know that our time in this world is limited. What we have is today and we must make the best of it. Hold on to your faith & above all, trust in Allah. He is the only One we can truly rely on. Keep going even when it’s hard, especially when it’s extremely hard – just keep going.