Written by: Mutshidzi Kwinda
Dear Younger Me: A Letter to the Kid Who Got Me Here Against All Odds.
June 15 marked my 29th birthday. As I begin this final year of my twenties, I want to take a moment to connect with you and revisit the conversations we missed or pushed aside.
For the first time in my life, I’ve become quite skilled at wearing a mask…, one that hides the emotions I struggled to express, no matter how hard I tried. This facade, over time, has become my haven.
Let’s go back to the day you were born. Mom told me how terrified she was. With no access to proper healthcare, she had to give birth alone on a dark, cold winter day at home. As I reflect on this, it shows me that somehow, from the very first moment I entered this world, I was fighting to survive, facing the brutal realities of extreme poverty. To make matters worse, by the time I was just nine months old, I had already lost my father… Well, you know all this, but for the sake of the story, let me continue.
Fast forward to your first day of school: a six-year-old girl walking two hours to school and two hours back every single day, barefoot and wearing a hand-me-down uniform that was far too big. Through rain or shine, winter or scorching summer heat, those days remain vivid in my memory. Do you know why? Because they haunt me every night as I try to sleep. It was a nightmare. Yet throughout all those years, one thing stayed constant in my heart: prayer. From primary school through high school, my faith and hopes for a better future never wavered. They carried me forward through fear and trauma.
I want you to know that I remember the sacrifices you made for us to be here today. Your entire life was a fight. While others enjoyed their childhood, you were busy trying to escape yours.
Then, one day, everything changed. You received an acceptance letter to the university of your dreams, for the degree you had always wanted. What a moment that was. It felt like every prayer you had whispered over the past fifteen years was finally being answered.
But just a few weeks later, all that hope was shattered. Because on the 31st of May 2016, the final biopsy and scan results came back positive for a soft tissue sarcoma cancer diagnosis. Just like that, you had to drop out. Yet, through prayer, hard work, and sheer determination, you fought your way back into university a year later, even while undergoing chemotherapy and battling the effects of the illness. Your selflessness during that time was nothing short of heroic. You kept saying, “God, please give me just enough strength to finish my degree and provide a better life for Mom and my disabled sibling.”
Looking back, I’m grateful you didn’t give up. I know it was unbearably hard, and that’s why I need you to hear how proud I am of you. You were stronger than I ever imagined possible.
Since your diagnosis, you’ve faced multiple recurrences, yet still, you completed your internship and community service. And now, you’re a registered pharmacist and a writer. You proved time and time again that anything is possible if you work hard and trust God while doing it.
For the past six months, things have been the hardest, and each day feels like an impossible challenge. We’re going through a difficult phase in this journey called life, and even though it feels like we’re failing in every way, I wanted to take a moment to tell you how proud and grateful I am. It’s an honor to know you’ve always had my back. You are strong, courageous, and a survivor of so many battles.
In the future, I hope you can set that mask aside and allow yourself to feel everything without apology. Embrace your raw, messy, imperfect self. You are worth it. You are enough. I see you, and I love you, always.
By: Mutshidzi Kwinda
