Sometimes the strongest people are not the ones who lift the heaviest loads, but the ones who fight battles the world cannot see.
This is the reality of Miss. Mary Philip, a Nigerian lady with a physical disability and sickle cell disorder, whose emotional story has moved thousands across social media.
In a heartfelt post on her Facebook page, Mary narrated how her dream of learning a culinary skill in Utako, Abuja, turned into a daily test of faith, pain, and extraordinary resilience.
“It was a dream come true for me” — Mary Philip
Mary explained that her training at Chef Fatima’s Culinary School was sponsored, and even though the location was far from her home, she was determined not to let distance or her physical disability stop her.
But on her first day, she received shocking news:
the school was on the fourth floor — with no elevator.
Her heart sank.
“Ahhh, how will I manage to be climbing the staircases every day for two weeks?” she recalled.
“I whispered a short prayer: God please help me.”
With courage, she climbed those stairs one painful step at a time — stopping, panting, sweating — yet refusing to give up. She went home that day hiding her struggle from her mother, fearing she would be stopped from continuing.
On the first day of the actual training, Mary encountered a stranger who changed everything.
“A man approached me that he saw me the first time I came… that he wants to help carry me to climb the staircase all through the period of my training, if I don’t mind,” she wrote.
Her reaction was immediate:
“If I don’t mind? Please sir, I don’t mind!”
For the entire duration of the training, this unnamed man carried her up four flights of stairs like a father would carry a child — gently, patiently, faithfully.
“He dropped me like the Queen that I am,” Mary said, describing him as “an angel in human form.”
“I had an emergency crisis on the road”
The toughest part came after her final day of training. She couldn’t find transport to the park and walked a long distance under intense stress, triggering a severe sickle cell crisis.
“I was terribly tired… I couldn’t raise my feet again. I was crying on the road.”
People had closed from work, the roads were busy, and she was stranded with little money. Yet again, help came from unexpected places — a man who noticed her distress helped her get a comfortable taxi.
Then it began to rain.
Her pain escalated.
“My whole body was in intense pain. It was as if the universe was against me.”
Another stranger helped her cross the road safely.
And then, as she tried to get a bike home, she heard her name — it was her mother. The most emotional part of Mary’s story
At home, her mother took one look at her and knew everything.
Mary broke down in tears.
And her mother did what Nigerian mothers do best — stood beside her daughter with love deeper than words.
“She hugged me, and we wept together,” Mary wrote.
“Mary my child, I see the pain you’re passing through… I may not have the power to end it, but I pray God who sees everything will help you.— Mary’s Mother”
Her mother stayed with her, gave her medicine, massaged her body, made her tea, and covered her with a blanket.
It was a moment that captured the true pain and humanity behind sickle cell battles.
The hidden battles sickle cell warriors face in Nigeria
Mary’s story reflects what millions of Nigerians with sickle cell disorder endure:
• Frequent debilitating pain crises triggered by stress, weather changes, long walks, and exhaustion
• Limited accessibility in schools, hospitals, workplaces, and public buildings
• High cost of medical care, medications, blood transfusions, and tests
• Stigma and discrimination, often rooted in ignorance
• Emotional and mental fatigue, as warriors pretend to be strong even when their bodies are breaking
• Transportation challenges, especially in cities without disability-inclusive infrastructure
• Daily fear of crises, which can appear suddenly and become life-threatening
Yet, like Mary, many push through these challenges daily — to work, to learn, to survive.
Mary’s message to the world
In her post, Mary made a powerful appeal:
“Please be kind to someone living with a deformity or physically challenged.
You don’t know the pain it took them to show up outside.”
She urged people to show empathy, offer help, and speak encouraging words.
Her story is not just about pain — it is about resilience, the goodness of strangers, and the strength of a mother’s love.
A final word
Mary ended her post with the caption:
“Chronicles of a Sickle Cell Champion.”
And indeed, she is.
To every sickle cell warrior reading this — Inclusion Post sees you, honors you, and celebrates your strength.
