I Lost My Husband… If I Die Too, My Daughters Will Be Orphaned

My name is Radha Rani. I wake up each morning afraid that my daughters will one day open their eyes and find me gone. When the house is quiet, they hold my hand, their faces turned away so I cannot see their tears. They try to hide their worry from me, but it’s there in the way they cling a little tighter each night, as if hoping to keep me close just a little longer. I do not fear pain anymore. What haunts me is the thought of leaving my daughters alone in this world, with no one to stand between them and what the world can take from them.

My husband and I had little, but our home was full of laughter. Then, sickness changed everything. My husband fell ill… his kidneys failed, and we had nothing left to pay for his treatment. In 2020, COVID took him, and I was left behind with two children who looked to me for everything. I picked myself up because I had no other choice. I worked as a tailor, stitching from morning until my hands ached, making just enough to keep our home and send my daughters to school. When rent was due or fees came up, I took on extra work, refusing to let the children see how scared I really was.

My relatives took me to the doctor. Tests followed, one after the other, until there was no doubt: stomach cancer, already at its fourth stage, spreading into my bones. Seven biopsies left scars up and down my back, and an endoscopy revealed a large lump. Doctors said the only way forward was chemotherapy. I began treatment on March 1, feeling weaker with each round but clinging to the small progress we saw at first. After four rounds, the swelling eased, and for a short while, I allowed myself to imagine that I might stay for my daughters. 

Now, the doctors tell me that injections and new medicines are my last chance to slow this down. I have already sold every piece of gold, every asset we owned. Friends and relatives will no longer lend; they worry no one will repay if I do not survive. My eldest is nearly done with college, but my younger daughter is still just a child. If I’m not here, I worry about what can happen to two girls alone... people might try to take advantage of them, or force them into unsafe work, or worse. The world is harsh, especially for girls who have no one left to fight for them. 

My elder daughter manages the house, takes me to appointments, and still tries to study. I wanted them to see strength in me, to learn that their mother never surrendered, no matter what. Today, they see a body bent by pain, a mother who struggles to stand, but I cannot give up while they still need me. I don't want to live a long life, I just want to live long enough. I am asking for the chance to remain their mother just a little longer. Every bit of support you give helps me fight for those years, for their safety, and for their education.