By Fatuma Hussein

There are stories we choose to write, and then there are stories that choose us. Mine began with a memory.

Long before I sat behind my laptop searching through medical journals or interviewing specialists, I found myself thinking about a friend I had lost years ago. 

She died from sickle cell disease at a time when the illness was wrapped in fear, myths and silence. In many communities, sickle cell disease was seen as a curse rather than a genetic condition.

Families carried shame instead of support, and many people believed that a child born with sickle cell disease would never live beyond the age of 18.

Those beliefs stayed with me.

They became even more personal because sickle cell disease was not a distant issue. In my own family, some of my younger relatives live with the condition. 

I have watched them face pain, hospital visits and misunderstanding, but I have also witnessed their resilience and their determination to live life like any other child.

That was the moment I decided to write about the disease.

At first, I believed it would simply be another health article, a straightforward piece explaining how families can better care for children living with sickle cell disease. Nothing more.

I was wrong.

As I dug deeper into research, studied scientific publications and spent hours speaking with medical experts, the story began to grow beyond anything I had imagined. Every interview challenged another misconception. Every document reminded me that misinformation can be just as dangerous as disease itself.

Throughout that journey my editor at Nukta Africa, Nuzulack Dausen, became an invaluable guide. I often returned to him with endless questions, revised drafts and fresh ideas. 

Looking back, I probably exhausted his patience more than once. But his commitment to accuracy and compelling storytelling pushed me beyond merely writing facts. He encouraged me to tell a story that people would remember.

What started as an ordinary health feature became a story that educated families, challenged harmful beliefs and gave hope to parents who had almost lost it.

The greatest surprise came later.

The article did not earn me an individual nomination during my first participation in the 16th Excellence in Journalism Awards Tanzania (EJAT 2025), but something even more meaningful happened.

The night of the EJAT Awards remains a moment I will never forget

On May 29, 2026, during the EJAT Awards gala held in Dar es Salaam as journalists gathered and waited anxiously as names of winners were announced, I sat quietly in the office with my work mates Maphosa Banduka and Daniel Mwingira, watching colleagues celebrate their achievements through television.

Inside, I was not as happy as I appeared.

Then came the announcement that changed everything. As the organizers revealed the winning entry representing our company, I held my breath as I heard the title of my sickle cell disease story being called out, earning our Nukta Africa of The Most Specialised Media House of the Year on Sickle cell Reporting 2025 Award the Award.

For a moment, everything around me seemed to stop.

I rose from my chair with overwhelming joy. Tears rolled down my face not tears of sadness, but tears of relief, gratitude and pride.

At that moment, it was never just about winning an award.

It was about seeing months of research, difficult conversations, countless revisions and sleepless nights finally recognized. It felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I realized that my work had found its way beyond my notebook and computer screen. It had reached people. It has created awareness. It challenged misconceptions about sickle cell disease.

That night, I did not only celebrate an award. I celebrated a story that had the power to educate, challenge beliefs and give hope to families living with sickle cell disease.

And for me, that was the greatest victory. Some people measure success through trophies with their names engraved on them. I measure mine differently.

The countless calls and messages from readers, parents and ordinary citizens thanking us for explaining sickle cell disease in a way they had never understood before became my greatest reward. 

As a health and lifestyle journalist, I have learned that journalism is not simply about reporting events. It is about changing conversations. It is about replacing fear with knowledge and replacing myths with facts.

Looking back, I realize I no longer chase the dreams I had when I first entered journalism.

Today, my ambitions are different.

I want to be the pen and paper for those who have stories but no platform to tell them, to be the eyes and ears for those who cannot be seen or heard, to be the voice for every person whose story deserves to reach the world.

That is the kind of journalist I aspire to become.