Six Years On: A Story of Strength, Love, and Resilience

 It has been six years since my last bicycle challenge and fundraiser (I struggle to believe this myself). And again, I never posted an update afterwards... how is Amani doing? What happened with your heartfelt donations?

So yes, this is a very belated update. A lot has changed since then — a whole story to tell. So, let’s pick up where we left off…

July 2019 – my dear friend Amani collapsed at work on school grounds and had to be airlifted to the hospital. She had suffered a serious brain haemorrhage.

August 2019 – I tried to help by cycling from Dorset via the Isle of Wight back to Portsmouth to raise money for Amani’s recovery. The doctors weren’t hopeful about her recovery…

But Amani does not give up easily. Her strength and faith are some of the most amazing things I’ve ever witnessed — inspiring and humbling. She was determined to survive and fiercely fought to regain her independence. That was always something very important to her, and suddenly it had been taken away. She found it incredibly difficult to rely on others, so she did everything she could to recover as quickly as possible.

But then, her strength was tested even further. While still in recovery, she received the devastating news that her mother had passed away in Sudan. She never had the chance to speak with her again after the stroke. Amani had to come to terms with that loss, too, and somehow find the strength to carry on. For a time, we were all deeply worried — it seemed like too much for one person to bear — but she found her way back and, eventually, was well enough to be discharged and return home.

Amani lives alone, with no partner, children, or close family in the UK. So, things were arranged to support her at home. She left the hospital at the end of February 2020, and I visited her in early March. I was delighted to see her back in her own space. She still couldn’t speak or walk well, but her understanding and ability to communicate non-verbally had improved a lot.

We even made a little tradition of pulling silly faces at each other.

Then came March 2020... does that date ring a bell? Yes — COVID. Personally, I still can’t comprehend how she managed to get through all of that during a global pandemic. But that’s Amani — my grounding strength and constant inspiration.

We saw each other again in June or July, when restrictions were eased, but things were still uncertain. As much as I wanted to visit more, I was afraid to pass on any illnesses to her.

One of the most beautiful things about Amani is her wisdom. As much as she longed for company, she would never make you feel guilty for not being there, or for needing to leave. She has so much dignity. She might get frustrated if someone breaks a promise, but she never plays the victim. She is full of pride — and love.

I also remember how, around June 2020, following the murder of George Floyd in the US, protests and conversations about racism were happening everywhere, including here in the UK. I couldn’t help but think of Amani. I remembered the things she had told me about her own experiences here — things that, as a white person, can be hard to truly grasp. Her resilience in the face of those challenges is just one more thing I deeply admire. She responds not with bitterness, but with strength and love. I am so proud of our friendship.

So where is Amani now, six years later? And what happened to the money we raised?

Amani never fully recovered — and likely never will — to how she was before the stroke. But she has regained her full cognitive abilities. She is smart, sharp, and constantly keeps me in check 😉. Although her speech is still limited, she finds ways to communicate — using predicted text and other tools. Walking remains difficult as she is still partially paralysed, but she manages. She rarely complains. She smiles instead, jokes, and shows gratitude.

When I visit and ask, "How are you, Amani?", she smiles and sends thankful kisses to the sky. Being around her brings me peace. She reminds me what truly matters.

So, she is doing well. She has daily carers, a wonderful lady who takes her out, and she even came to visit me recently — a joy! She also travelled abroad to see her sister.

And this brings us to the donations.

Right after Amani returned home, she didn’t need much immediately, so we kept the money aside — thinking perhaps we’d treat her to a lovely spa break or help her visit her sister. But for a while, none of that was possible. Then, as conflict in Sudan escalated, Amani’s sister was forced to flee, and for some time they lost contact. Amani was deeply worried.

Eventually, she asked me if the donated money could be sent to help her sister.
Of course, I said yes — this is your money, and it felt like the most important and meaningful use. And so, we did.

To be honest, I can’t imagine a better purpose. Her sister is now safe in Egypt, and Amani was finally able to visit her. Knowing they are reunited brings a smile to my heart.

So, all in all, there’s a positive ending to this part of the story.

When you look at Amani’s whole life — what she has survived — it’s nothing short of extraordinary: civil war, imprisonment, torture, losing her father, fleeing her country, being alone, and simply trying to survive... and yet she has never allowed herself to be a victim.

She could have asked, "Why me?" but instead, she became stronger — with even stronger faith. I often wish I had been lucky enough to meet her parents, to glimpse at her life in childhood, to understand the roots of her remarkable character.

When she arrived in the UK, she began volunteering with the homeless and even received a Volunteer of the Year award. She's always helped others. She is a hero to me. I’m forever grateful for her friendship, her love — and her cheeky sense of humour 😉 (hence the photos!).

One last question to answer before I end this post: why now? Why write this update six years later?

Well… a lot happened over those years. COVID. Uni. A change of career. Marriage. Moving house.

Last year marked 10 years since my first ride: Portsmouth–Paris–London–Portsmouth. I didn’t do anything to mark it.

But this year… this year marks 10 years since we lost Isabella to cancer. Another hero of mine. (An interesting fact — Isabella and Amani’s birthdays are right next to each other.)

So, I thought I’d like to mark this anniversary. Even if it’s something small or symbolic. I didn’t have the headspace to plan anything big — but I will do something. And I’ll share it with you in my next post.