It’s been five years!! Five years since the words “in remission” became a beacon of hope, a fragile promise whispered after the storm. But those five years weren’t a gentle stroll; they were a relentless uphill battle, a testament to the fact that even when the body screams surrender, the spirit can rise. Every single day since then has been a conscious choice to “Just Do It,” (Nike) to push beyond the pain, and to believe that “Impossible Is Nothing,” (Adidas).
A year ago I went up Mt Nyangani, and used that experience as an analogy for the fourth year in remission. This year I have picked my favorite sports brands to help me with my story.
The memory of Mt. Nyangani, the highest mountain in Zimbabwe, still resonates deeply. I’ve scaled it three times, each ascent a metaphor for my journey. The first, a raw test of strength post-chemo. The second, a joyous adventure. The third, a quiet moment of reflection, a poignant realization of how far I’d come.
But the last five years have felt like a constant climb, not just of physical peaks, but of emotional and intellectual summits. It’s in these moments of profound challenges that you truly understand the mantra: “There Is No Finish Line,” (Nike).
My personal summit began with the chilling diagnosis: Stage 3B Colorectal Cancer. It was a thunderclap that echoed through every fiber of my being. The subsequent battle, a grueling regimen of surgery, chemotherapy and radiation, was a fight for my very existence. Yet, it was in this crucible that a fire was forged.
The year 2020 was a testament to that fire. While the world grappled with an unseen enemy, COVID 19, I was still battling the echoes of my own, the lingering fatigue and the quiet anxieties that cling to the edges of remission. Yet, it was in this crucible that I completed my MBA in Public Management, my dissertation written from a hospital bed, a stark reminder that even amidst vulnerability, “I Will What I Want,” (Under Armour). It wasn’t just about proving something to others; it was about proving it to myself, that even when the body is weak, the mind can be indomitable.
Then came the audacious leap: moving to the UK on a Chevening Scholarship. To some, it seemed illogical, almost reckless, given my recent health struggles. But to me, it was life affirming, a defiant step towards a future I refused to let cancer steal.
The transition was brutal. The biting cold of a new country, the unfamiliar rhythms of a foreign city, the crushing weight of academic expectations – all layered over the persistent undercurrent of healing. There were nights I cried into my pillow, the exhaustion a physical ache, the fear a cold knot in my stomach.
But then, I’d remember the grit that got me through chemo, and the whisper of “Impossible Is Nothing” (Adidas), would push me forward.
I poured myself into my studies at University of Sussex, pursuing an MSc in Management and Finance. Each late night, each challenging assignment, each moment of doubt was a new kind of therapy, a re-wiring of my brain from survival mode to thriving mode.
And when the day came, when I graduated in the top 5% of my class, with a distinction, it wasn’t just a piece of paper. It was a tangible testament to resilience, to the unwavering belief that when you’ve faced death and stared it down, you can truly find your strong.
The journey then took an exhilarating turn. My appointment as CEO was more than a career achievement; it was a profound affirmation of life. It’s a role that demands every ounce of the strength I fought so hard to reclaim, combined with a robust skill set. My PMP certification, attained in 2024, allows me to strategically navigate complex projects. My background in Accounting, coupled with my pursuit of the FMVA (Financial Modeling & Valuation Analyst) certification, ensures a keen financial oversight and a wholesome approach to leadership.
This combination of practical expertise and hard-won resilience allows me to lead with both prowess and empathy. It’s about leading, inspiring, and ensuring that others have the opportunity to chase their own dreams, just as I’ve been given a second chance to chase mine. This role, this life, is about living the truth of “Sound Mind, Sound Body,” (Asics).
Five years in remission. It’s a milestone that carries the weight of battles won, of tears shed, and of dreams reborn. The descent from the mountain, as I wrote last year, is still an ongoing process – the regular check-ups, the quiet vigilance against recurrence, the conscious effort to nurture my mental and physical well-being. My doctors, who were once my lifelines, are now cherished friends, their guidance still invaluable.
My journey with cancer has not been a solitary one. It has intertwined with the paths of so many others, fellow travelers on this arduous road. I celebrate with those who have triumphed, their victories a shining light: Ma Moyo, Brenda, Anesu – their names whispered with a mix of joy and immense gratitude.
But the journey has also brought profound loss. I mourn those who fought with unimaginable courage but ultimately succumbed to the disease: Nisha, Charity, Mai Mugwindiri, and recently, in 2024, my beloved uncle, whose passing left a void that still aches. Their memories fuel my determination to live each day with purpose.
I’ve learned to appreciate the simple things: the warmth of the sun on my skin, the laughter of loved ones, the quiet moments of peace. I no longer take a single breath for granted. To anyone reading this, facing their own personal summits, I implore you: please keep going!
The climb will be arduous, the path will be uncertain, but within you lies an untapped reservoir of strength. Embrace the journey, and know that you are capable of achieving the seemingly impossible. For in the heart of every struggle, lies the profound truth: “Impossible Is Nothing.”