Reflections on grief, loss, and a philosophy of life with sickle cell

Over the past month, Nigeria, where I live, has witnessed several painful losses. One that shook many people was the death of a popular actor, reportedly due to metastatic kidney cancer. News of his death spread quickly across the entertainment industry and on social media. Many Nigerians admired him for his talent, vibrancy, and good looks. Like countless others, I felt deeply saddened for him, his parents, and his loved ones, and for the dreams he still hoped to achieve. His death reminded many of us how fragile life truly is, regardless of fame, status, or perceived strength.

Initially, the grief across the entertainment industry seemed overwhelming. Tributes, old videos, memories, and heartfelt condolences flooded social media platforms. Moving on from such a painful loss felt almost impossible. However, the most jarring realization came days later when a family cheating scandal completely dominated conversations online. Suddenly, public attention shifted elsewhere. That moment reminded me of one of life’s hardest truths: No matter how painful a loss may feel, the world eventually keeps moving.

Barely a week after that shockwave, devastating news struck closer to home with the passing of a beloved sickle cell matriarch at 60 years old. She was a mentor to many of us in the sickle cell community and served as the executive director of one of the country’s largest sickle cell organizations. Beyond titles and positions, her influence reached countless lives directly. She encouraged many warriors and gave hope to families navigating the realities of sickle cell disease. Even in death, her legacy will continue inspiring future generations. Her departure also served as a painful reminder of the fragile boundary between tireless advocacy work and the ultimate finality of life.

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Those consecutive losses naturally pulled me back to my long-standing perceptions of life and death. Growing up, I often heard my parents declare their desire to live up to 120 years. Whenever people asked how long I wanted to live, my answer was usually very different. Most times, I simply said I wanted to live as long as I remained genuinely happy, because a life consumed by constant and unrelenting sadness feels more tragic than death itself. That belief continues to drive me to actively protect my peace and fight for my happiness every single day. It also reminds me to maintain meaningful reasons to keep living.

Sometimes, though, I wonder whether my philosophy would change if I had children. I suspect it would, because parenthood transforms people in profound ways. It teaches sacrifice beyond what many can fully comprehend. At that stage, my focus would likely shift beyond personal happiness alone. I would probably endure pain, discomfort, exhaustion, and countless sacrifices simply to watch my children thrive and become fulfilled individuals. More importantly, I would want to guide and protect them for as long as possible. In that sense, my definition of living might evolve from pursuing happiness to embracing purposeful sacrifice for the people I love.

Over the years, I have come to view death from different perspectives. Death is final. It remains the inevitable ending every human being must eventually face, whether rich or poor, healthy or ill, young or old. Still, unlike many people, I do not always see death entirely as punishment. For a young person filled with dreams and ambitions, death may feel cruel and deeply unfair. On the other hand, for someone battling a terminal illness, relying on life support, or spending their final days in palliative care, death may instead represent peace, rest, and relief from suffering. In many ways, perspective shapes how we interpret death.

One thing, however, remains certain: Death is the most unavoidable part of life. Every single person alive today will eventually die someday. After death, painful as it sounds, the world continues moving forward. People mourn, hearts break, and memories linger, but life eventually continues. Because of this reality, I believe we should spend our lives doing what we love, pursuing what brings us joy, nurturing meaningful relationships, and embracing moments that truly matter. Death will come one day regardless of who we are or what we achieve. While we are alive, one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves is the freedom to genuinely live, love, laugh, create memories, and pursue happiness unapologetically.

Today, I dedicate this piece to the sickle cell matriarch we recently lost. Thank you for your service, your compassion, your advocacy, and your unwavering commitment to the sickle cell community. Your life mattered greatly, your impact was profound, and your legacy will continue speaking for many years to come. Rest in peace.

Note: Sickle Cell Disease News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Sickle Cell Disease News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues about sickle cell disease.