UAE mothers share their children’s battle with cancer: Fighting for all 'little superheroes'

Sometimes, hope is described as ethereal, almost surreal, a ray of light so faint that even a sliver allows one to bask in its glow, if only for a moment. 

 And sometimes, there’s only one quote that describes hope best.

 Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.

After speaking with mothers who spent the most formative years of their child’s life in hospitals, praying for good news each day, hope had never seemed so fierce, despite the sunburns and bruises.

 But still she rises.

 And that’s what parents continued to do, even if life tried to beat them to the ground. They wanted to show up for their child, themselves, and for any other parent who had to watch their child go through such an ordeal. And all the women are determined to raise awareness for children battling cancer, and help in any way they can.

The mothers share their experiences.

 The dead are never truly dead until we forget them, and that’s what it is for Yara Dalilah. Her daughter, Lamar Nafech, lives on through her memories and words. In their conversations, Lamar’s vibrance endures—untouched by a disease that tried to take it.

 It began in February, 2022.  Lamar had an unexplained fever, and the doctor gave her antibiotics. Once the round stopped, the fever returned. The worry started building, and she had to stay in hospital for three weeks, after undergoing several times. Finally, they went to another hospital, where the possibilities were narrowed to two: a fever from unboiled milk—or cancer. ‘The doctor said they were 99% sure it was cancer,’ Dalilah recalls.

 And it was. The treatment began in April, and they had to check in May, to observe how the body was reacting. She was in remission. There seemed to be some light, at last.

 Yet, not completely: She couldn’t go to school, and she wasn’t happy. “She was missing classes, and she was so tired because of the chemotherapy. She just wanted to be a normal teenager,” says Dalilah. Words become harder at this point, as grief doesn’t have a language. But she continues. “She would ask, why can’t I have a normal life?”

 They had emotional support all around them, thankfully, as she says, and for cancer, you need a very specialised psychologist. By December, she could go back to school, though she was worried about what others would say about her hair. “I talked to parents, I said, please don’t look at her hair, it makes her awkward,” adds Dalilah.

But, by January, the news was decidedly getting worse. The tests kept continuing, and she had  a relapse. A more aggressive cancer had returned, and she needed a bone marrow transplant. “She thought that she would die, but we assured her. She just had an infection, we thought. She would recover."

 Everything happened quickly. She had difficulty breathing, and needed blood transfusion. But very soon, they could just watch in the ICU. “The doctors did their best. They did everything they could. We just kept watching her oxygen levels fluctuate.”

Finally, the only realisation that could dawn on them in those hours of just watching, was, they had to let her go.

 It feels like yesterday for Dalilah and yet she has also lived many lives since that day in February, 2022. “I just want to raise awareness for cancer. I just try to support parents as much as I can, and make children happy.”

 She’s true to her word. Dalilah has promoted initiatives aimed at collecting hair to create wigs for children with cancer, often highlighting the emotional impact of losing hair during treatment. She has also been heavily involved in promoting the Abtaluna hair donation campaign, which involved over 40 hair salons for donations.

All the mothers’ stories share a common thread: it often starts with something seemingly small—a fever that just won’t go away.

Grace Nehme, Pediatric Hematology-Oncology Consultant at Clemenceau Medical Center Hospital, explains the early warning signs that parents should never ignore:

She adds that these early symptoms can mimic less serious conditions, such as infections or inflammatory issues. Beyond physical signs, parents should also watch for changes in behaviour: a child who suddenly becomes unusually tired, withdrawn, or uninterested in play could be signaling that something is wrong.

And one rule of thumb they all emphasise: always seek a second medical opinion. Trust your instincts as a parent. Early detection can make a critical difference in diagnosis and treatment.

That's how Dubai-based Lama Andari refers to her son. Over a phone call, she traces the shadows of those dark days, holding onto the slivers of light that guided them through the tunnel.

 It all began in the April of 2021. “Our son was 2-years-old, and one day, my husband asked me if I thought that he was limping,” she recalls. At first, she assumed that he had twisted his ankle while walking at the beach. Yet, soon he had fever and they realised it was something serious. “When I helped him get dressed, he yelled in pain, when I moved his hand.”

 Quickly, the paediatrician ordered a hip scan and a blood test. Later, they got a call saying that his blood showed dangerous blasts. At the time, Andari was pregnant with her second son. “We went to the hospital and started the treatment for leukemia.”

 Andari had always believed herself to be resilient. Life had tested her enough before then: Her first husband had passed away from cancer and she had been his primary caregiver. “I felt like I could do this, but we really underestimate the effort it takes, and how much both children and parents struggle,” she says. Her son had to undergo chemotherapy and immunotherapy, which is called Blinatumomab.

 During those days at the hospital, Andari decided that she would raise awareness for childhood cancer. She began writing her book Super Kids: Our Journey Fighting Cancer, which was her therapy at the time as she says.

 After two-and-a-half years, her ‘little superhero’ fought cancer. But Andari’s new mission to help all the other little superheroes and parents glows stronger than ever. She explains that there needs to be greater conversation and awareness around childhood cancer—it deserves the same attention and urgency as breast cancer and other widely recognised illnesses.

She also launched Abtaluna, a Dubai-based social initiative dedicated to supporting children who are facing or have faced cancer, along with their families. The name, which translates to ‘Our Superheroes’ in Arabic, reflects the courage of these young fighters. Through specially curated events, it uplifts these children and their loved ones.

 Andari introduces us to the community she has built over the years. One of the other women being, Karin Voyatjes and her daughter, Alexandra, called Alexa. A bubbly girl, fully of energy as she proudly says.

 Similar to Andari’s experience, Alexa was diagnosed in 2018, when she was only around three. It began with the unexplained high fever and she was plagued by night sweats. They took her to a pediatrician, and and were told it could be tonsillitis. A round of antibiotics was given. Yet, a mother’s instinct refused to let it be, and they went for a second medical opinion as she was growing pale and even had bruising. “Always get a second opinion. It impacted my daughter’s treatment and just trust your gut,” says Karin, a sentiment that Andari heartily agrees with.

 Alexa went for a blood test, and within hours, Voyatjes was called to take Alexa to the emergency room immediately.

 Her blood counts had dropped to low levels, requiring an emergency blood and platelet transfusion the very next morning. This was just the first of many transfusions she would need during the first year of treatment. That same morning, she underwent a bone marrow biopsy, and within 48 hours, they received the diagnosis: Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (A.L.L.).

 And so the two-and-half year cycle began. And worse, at first, Alexa had severe fear as karin, remembers. There was confusion and routines were upside down: It was all so incredibly difficult, owing to the weekly chemotherapy, and the child was perplexed with the sudden stoppage of all playdates. “So, very early on, we spoke to a psychologist who was such a huge support, who helped her get back that control.”

After her initial crippling fear, Alexa became a beacon of much courage  to others at the hospital, recalls Voyatjes. She helped them through the ordeal too, and everyone loved her, as she was always in high spirits.

Alexa has recovered, but the road to healing, both physical and emotional has been long and arduous. Chemotherapy is only the beginning; the path to full recovery involves rehabilitation, constant medications, endless hospital visits, and the emotional toll of hair loss, as Karin recalls. The journey tests not just the body, but the spirit.

 “There’s this whole stigma around cancer, and we are so scared of saying the word,” Andari explains, adding that’s why she wanted to reach out to other parents, and change the conversation around it and the crippling fear.

 Hiba Salem, a psychologist based at Dubai's Sage Clinics, specialising in supporting children through the psychological challenges of cancer explains quite often, the fear comes from parents rather than the children. “First we deal with the adults, before the children. The children don’t know what cancer means, most of the time, they might not know the severity of it,” she says.  The word has no meaning, yet. But, when they see their parents anxiety spike, crying, or a sudden worried energy, even for good reason, a fear slowly develops.

 So, how do you have this conversation with children? First, you need to be aware of their developmental milestones, according to Salem. A child at the age between one to three, just needs their primary caregiver around. Their presence is reassuring. For the older children, the conversation begins to change. “So, avoid using vague terms such as ‘you’re sick’. It will help in creating less fear. Be honest, and use the word. Cancer.”

 As she says, children are quite smart; they grasp every anxious twitch. So, when you create a safe, comforting space for them to have that conversation, the fear ebbs. You can facilitate a conversation. “For them, the scariest part is the uncertainty and unpredictability. It’s watching their parents anxiety, and noticing sudden changes in the household and new routines,” says Salem.

 For parents, you don’t need to have all the answers. Sometimes, just saying ‘I don’t know’ is the best answer. Allow them to verbalise their discomfort, too. If they explain their fear of chemotherapy, shots and needs, you need to validate that. “Don’t dismiss it and try to reassure them by saying ‘it’s all okay’,” says Salem. It helps for them to hear you agree that yes it is frightening, but you also want to provide assurance to them.

 And what about the other children in the house? How do they cope with a parent’s unexplained absences?

.As Salem explains, a sudden shift in family dynamics upends routines, and siblings must suddenly contend with one parent being away for long stretches. “Have conversations with them. Make time. Let them know, ‘I will check in on you,’ and allow them to verbalise their anger and frustration,” she says.

Sometimes, these conversations will be uncomfortable. Choose the right moments, maybe before drop-off or bedtime, and create a safe space for understanding. Over time, the sibling’s blame needs to shift: they’re not causing the illness; the family is fighting it together. Keeping communication open and accessible is key.

And through it all, hope doesn’t just endure, it rises, over and over, through scraped knuckles, sleepless nights, and every triumph.