Your Excellency,
I write this letter in support of Biez Kaviru. I also stand in solidarity with thousands of Kenyans who are quietly carrying a cancer diagnosis. They are fighting battles no one sees.
The moment a person is told they have cancer, life fractures.
Before the body begins treatment, the mind and spirit start to grieve.
People grieve the life they knew.
They grieve certainty.
They grieve plans they trusted—education, careers, businesses, retirement, and time itself.
Cancer does not only attack the body.
It invades the psyche.
It dismantles families.
It drains savings accumulated over decades.
It converts hope into hospital visits and calendars into scan dates.
For many Kenyans, cancer is not just a medical condition—it is a financial death sentence.
Your Excellency, cancer must be recognized for what it truly is:
a national disaster.
And like any national disaster, its response can’t be optional, charitable, or dependent on personal wealth.
Cancer treatment must be accessible, fair, and free.
No citizen should have to choose between treatment and poverty.
No family should have to sell land, exhaust pensions, or crowd-fund dignity.
No parent should die knowing their children’s future was traded for chemotherapy.
Equally urgent is how we speak about cancer.
Before anyone casually explains how cancer “kills,” I ask this: pause.
People are listening.
People are living with diagnoses they have not shared.
People are fighting psychological wars while appearing strong in public.
Words spoken without compassion can wound deeper than the disease itself.
Not every conversation requires commentary.
Not every tragedy needs an opinion.
If you have nothing informed, supportive, or humane to say—
say nothing at all.
This is not fear-mongering.
This is reality.
Cancer patients are not statistics.
They are parents, workers, caregivers, entrepreneurs, and nation-builders.
They are citizens who deserve to live—and to be treated with dignity while fighting to do so.
Your Excellency, Kenya can’t continue to outsource survival to chance, charity, or privilege.
A nation is measured by how it protects its most vulnerable.
Cancer care is not a luxury.
It is a right.
Respectfully,
Elizabeth Johnstone


