By David Correa
My Early Childhood Life
I was born in Bandè, Guinea-Bissau, and raised in another town by my beloved mother, Teresa—a strong woman who single-handedly raised five boys and one girl, Solange. My siblings included my elder brother Gilberto and three younger ones, Fabio Félix, Vando Félix, and Dani.
Though Teresa was the backbone of our family, my father had already left for The Gambia before I was even born. I had no memory of him, no photo, no voice, just stories, and unabating silence.
At the age of four, I was sent to our village, where I lived with my grandmother together with my maternal aunt. She later passed away. I was quiet, antisocial, and mostly confined to the house due to my persistent health problems—swollen feet, bloated body, and unrelenting fatigue. Despite numerous trips to hospitals and local herbalists, there was no solution. My mother never gave up on finding help for me.
Eventually, I moved back to my birth town to live in my father’s family house with my grandmother and my uncle, who sadly passed away two years ago. I still had no connection with my father. Unbeknown to me, he had remarried without formally divorcing my mother.
In 2005, my paternal grandfather passed away. As tradition in the Manjago culture requires, my father, who had been in The Gambia for eight years, had to return for the burial. It was during this time, at the age of 10, that I met him for the first time. Within a week of meeting me, he took me to The Gambia without my mother’s consent. I was still a child in school and dealing with unresolved health issues.
Once in The Gambia, a friend of my father took notice of my condition. He introduced me to traditional herbs. I used them from 2006 onwards, and, miraculously, my symptoms never returned.
I started schooling from Grade 2 at St. James Lower Basic School. After reuniting with my father, he enrolled me at Kitty Primary School in the same year. Despite initial struggles—due to language barriers and cultural differences—I gradually adapted and was promoted to Grade 3. My early education in Guinea-Bissau had always been strong. I often emerged top of my class. That academic spirit carried over into my new environment.
Though my performance in Grade 2 wasn’t stellar, my teachers saw potential in me. I was a fast learner, especially with numerics. In Grade 3, my teacher, Mr. Sainey Badjie, played a pivotal role in my life. When my grandmother passed away, my father returned to Guinea-Bissau with his wife and children. I pleaded to stay and continue my education. Mr. Badjie agreed to take me in. He became not just a teacher but a guardian and a beacon of hope.
After Grade 9, I traveled to Bissau for the holidays on my own, determined to reunite with my mother and siblings. When Mr. Badjie later migrated to Europe, I moved to Pirang in Kombo East to stay with his family. Eventually, communication with him faded.
I returned to Kitty and found shelter with a woman called Hawa Jatta(mother) who knew my teacher. I explained my situation, no family, but I have a burning desire to continue my education. She took me in. From that point forward, I found a new family and a new purpose.
From Promise to Pain
After completing my junior school, I proceeded to Gambia Senior Secondary School, where I sat for the West Africa Examination Council (WAEC) exams. I passed successfully and obtained the qualifications needed to study nursing at Gambia College. However, I eventually dropped out not because I lacked determination but because I lacked both financial and emotional support. The cost of transportation and other essentials became overwhelming.
One of the lesser known reasons for leaving nursing was my fear of blood. It may sound funny now, and many of my friends nicknamed me the “runaway student nurse.” Still, they never knew the depth of my internal struggles. I was focused and determined while at the college, but the challenges were simply too great.
Determined not to give up on education, in 2017, I sat for the private WASSCE to improve my grades. The following year, in 2018, I was admitted to the University of The Gambia. I studied hard and remained committed to my goals. After four years of persistence, I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics.
Late in 2022, after completing my program, I was eagerly waiting for my convocation ceremony. I also looked forward to receiving my attestation and other supporting documents that would allow me to apply for a master’s program. My dream was to become an economist, and I knew that postgraduate study was the next step.
While waiting, I took a job at St. Francis Senior Secondary School, where I taught Grade 12 Mathematics. Teaching was a fulfilling experience. I built strong relationships with my students, and around that same time, I met someone special—Milda Mendy. She became my life partner, a woman of culture, determination, and support.
Then came one of the most pivotal days of my life, my graduation day. I wore my academic gown and dark blue suit, excited to celebrate with friends and family. The President of The Gambia, Mr. Adama Barrow, graced the occasion. But toward the end of the ceremony, I felt a sharp, intense pain at the back of my head. I confided in a friend and rushed home. That night, I cried bitterly.
My close friend, Ousman Jassey, who had housed me throughout my university years—rushed me to Ndenban Clinic in Bakau. I was admitted for several days. Blood tests revealed something alarming. My blood pressure was dangerously high, at 215/115. My renal function tests (RFT) and liver function tests (LFT) showed that my creatinine levels were above 2000—an extremely abnormal and life-threatening condition.
I was referred to the main hospital in Banjul for emergency dialysis catheter surgery. Unfortunately, the procedure was unsuccessful, and I was moved to the intensive care unit. My mother along with my wife stayed by my side, providing emotional and physical support.
The word of my condition spread quickly. Friends from university, former classmates, and even strangers began organizing help. Some local media houses picked up my story, and people began contributing to my care. Through these efforts, D260,000 from students was raised toward my transplant, far short of the 1.5 million dalasis needed, but a hopeful start.
A GoFundMe campaign was organized by Ndey Yassin Camara, a former senior school classmate now living in Canada. Thanks to this, international support started pouring in. During all this time, I was undergoing regular dialysis, and my search for a donor continued and rose to a total of D645,364.00. Eventually, one of my own brothers, Gilberto, offered to donate a kidney out of love, sorrow, and the unbreakable bond between siblings.
On August 16, 2023, I traveled to India with my brother and a bystander, using the GoFundMe contributions to fund our trip—D245,000 for three return tickets. On our first day at BLK Max Hospital, I collapsed during dialysis and fell into a coma. Doctors and loved ones panicked. I spent three lifeless days in the intensive care unit.
This led the hospital to contact the Gambian High Commission in India. Until then, the government was unaware of my arrival. Commission staff rushed to the hospital and were heartbroken by what they saw: a young, bright man fighting for life.
From that moment, they took my case seriously. With their support, a partnership was secured with Aster MIMS Hospital in Kerala. I had to fund the flight from New Delhi to Kerala myself—D30,000 for all three of us. I had already used much of the GoFundMe funds, so I appealed once more to supporters in The Gambia. Churches, mosques, and individuals provided assistance.
In Kerala, we initially stayed at a non-profit facility that provided free accommodation to patients with kidney and diabetic conditions. Later, we moved to a rented apartment that cost D28,000. The Ministry of Health eventually provided $2,000 to assist with accommodation and other essentials.
After five long months of waiting, preparation, and daily challenges, I finally had my kidney transplant on December 12, 2023. Glory be to God.
The struggle continues, but I am alive. I am grateful for every person who stood by me and helped give me a second chance at life.
My experiences have given me a renewed sense of purpose and optimism.
My Ultimate Life Goal
I am poised to free myself from financial hardship and establish a kidney community dedicated to
helping the less privileged.
I aim to create awareness about kidney diseases and related health
issues, provide support for those in
need, and ensure that no one feels
alone in their fight for life.
Through hard work, perseverance,
And by God’s grace, I believe this dream will come true, bringing hope and life support to many across Africa and beyond.
Thank you for reading my story.
May it inspire you to face your own
journey with courage and faith.
