When Survival Costs More than Life
“What can I say? I can get both hot and cold showers. The cleanliness is something I have never seen before, and the staff greet us warmly both when we arrive and when we leave.”
Imagine spending half of your monthly income in a single day and still knowing it would not be enough.
Imagine lying awake at night wondering not only how you will survive cancer, but where you will sleep tomorrow, how you will eat, and whether you can afford to continue treatment at all.
For Sisay this was not an imagination. It was a reality.
Sisay is a 50-year-old mother of two from southern Ethiopia. Before her diagnosis with cancer, she earned a small living selling household items through street vending, making around 2,000 birr a month. It was modest income, but it kept her family going. Every birr mattered. Every day of work meant food on the table.
Then she was diagnosed with stage III cervical cancer.
Everything changed.
Within nine months of her diagnosis, Sisay underwent six cycles of chemotherapy and 11 sessions of radiation therapy. Since then, she has continued traveling to Hawassa for treatment, carrying not only the pain of illness, but also the crushing emotional and financial burden that cancer brings.
Because cancer does not only attack the body. It interrupts work. It drains savings. It isolates families. And for many women like her, it turns survival itself into a daily struggle.
The cost of investigations, medication, transportation, food, and accommodation quickly became overwhelming. A single day in Hawassa during treatment cost nearly 1,000 birr excluding medical expenses. She needed 500 birr for a rented room, 200 birr for meals, and at least 300 birr for transportation.
In just one day, she will spent what would normally support her family for nearly two weeks.
When we first met her at the hospital, she sat quietly sitting in a corner, exhausted and deep in thought. The uncertainty of tomorrow rested heavily on her face. Yet even in the middle of her suffering, she welcomed our team warmly and shared her story with honesty and courage.
As we listened, one painful truth became impossible to ignore: she was beginning to question whether she could continue treatment at all. Not because she had lost
hope, but because the burden of surviving during treatment had become too heavy to carry.
Her story reflects the reality faced by many cancer patients traveling to Hawassa for care. For families already struggling financially, cancer treatment often forces impossible choices between shelter and treatment, between food and transportation, between continuing care and giving up completely.
After hearing her story, we welcomed her to the Women Cancer Care House.
For the first time in months, she no longer had to worry about where she would sleep or how she would afford her next meal. She could finally focus on what mattered most: healing.
When we asked Sisay what touched her most about staying at the Cancer Care House, she smiled softly before answering:
“What can I say? I can get both hot and cold showers. The cleanliness is something I have never seen before, and the staff greet us warmly both when we arrive and when we leave.”
Behind those simple words is something much deeper. Relief.
Relief from the fear of sleeping without shelter, from having to choose between food and treatment, and from carrying the burdens alone.
For Sisay and the other women staying inside the house, this place is more than accommodation. It is dignity in the middle of suffering. It is comfort during uncertainty.
It is a place where exhausted patients are welcomed with warmth, cleanliness, safety, and compassion at a time when they need it most.
Most importantly, it is a reminder that even in their hardest moments, they are not forgotten.
And sometimes, that reminder is powerful enough to help someone keep fighting.
