THE STRENGTH HIDDEN IN RED

(For Sickle Cell Awareness)

Some battles never announce themselves.

They do not march with drums or banners.

They arrive quietly, tucked beneath a smile,

hidden behind the laughter of a child,

resting silently inside blood

that has carried both life

and an unbearable weight

since the very first breath.

There are mornings

when getting out of bed

is an act of courage no one applauds.

The body remembers pain

before the mind has fully awakened,

and every movement becomes

a conversation between endurance

and hope.

Still,

there are dreams to be chased.

There are classrooms waiting

for eager minds.

There are birthdays to celebrate,

roads to travel,

songs to sing loudly,

and futures that refuse

to be rewritten

by a diagnosis.

We often mistaken strength

for the absence of tears.

But I have met strength

in hospital corridors,

where mothers whisper prayers

they have memorized by heart.

I have seen it

in fathers who hold tiny hands

while pretending

they are not afraid.

I have watched it

in children who smile

through pain

that most adults

could scarcely imagine.

If only compassion

could become as common

as misunderstanding.

If only we asked,

"How are you today?"

instead of,

"But you don't look sick."

Some wounds

do not announce themselves.

Some pain

has learned to walk gracefully,

simply because it has had

no other choice.

So today,

I choose awareness

that goes beyond ribbons

and carefully chosen colours.

I choose to learn.

To listen.

To understand.

To stand beside those

whose blood tells a different story,

without ever making them feel

that they must explain

their existence.

May science continue

to open doors

that once seemed forever locked.

May medicine keep discovering

new reasons for hope.

May communities

replace myths with knowledge,

judgment with kindness,

and silence with conversations

that heal more

than they ever harm.

And to every soul

living with sickle cell disease—

May you never believe

that your life

is measured by the pain you carry.

You are measured

by every sunrise

you have chosen to meet,

every impossible day

you have endured,

every gentle smile

you have offered the world

when the world

never saw your struggle.

Your blood

has never diminished your worth.

It has only revealed

the remarkable strength

your heart has always possessed.