My name is Isayah Mangatu, and I live in Kenya.
In 2017, I was diagnosed with diabetes, and that moment changed my life forever. It came as a complete shock. Before the diagnosis, I was working, living a normal life, and doing everything I could to stay healthy. But hearing the words “you have diabetes” marked the beginning of a journey I could never have imagined—one filled with struggle, silent pain, and increasingly heavy burdens.
After I was diagnosed, I began treatment immediately. I was employed at the time, and although it wasn’t easy, I managed to purchase my medication and take care of myself. I would carry my insulin and supplies to work and take them in secret—on lunch breaks, in restrooms, or anywhere I could find a quiet moment. I sacrificed meals just to afford medication. I was doing all I could just to stay afloat, because I knew how serious untreated diabetes could become.
But in 2019, everything changed. I lost my job—the one source of income that helped me survive.
Since then, life has been a constant struggle. Without a job, I could no longer afford the medication I needed, let alone the balanced meals required to manage diabetes. I watched helplessly as my condition worsened. My body grew weaker. I experienced more frequent symptoms—extreme fatigue, blurred vision, pain, dizziness, and more. Worst of all, due to prolonged lack of proper treatment, I developed diabetic neuropathy—a serious complication where the nerves in my legs and feet began to deteriorate.
The pain and numbness in my legs now affect my daily life. Some days, walking even a short distance feels like stepping on fire. Other days, I feel nothing at all—no pain, no sensation, no warning signs. This is terrifying, because any unnoticed wound or injury could become severely infected, even life-threatening. I have lived with this fear for years now.
And through all of this, I’ve had no financial ability to get the help I need. I’ve tried to remain strong. I’ve tried to push through. But the reality is, my health has now deteriorated to a dangerous level.
That’s why I’m reaching out with all the courage and humility I can gather—to ask for your help.
Right now, I urgently need to get to a hospital. I need to restart proper medical treatment. I need tests, medication, proper meals, and professional care. Without it, my condition will continue to worsen. I am genuinely afraid for my life.
If you feel moved to help, please consider sending a donation—no matter how small—to my PayPal account: [email redacted]
Your contribution will go directly toward my medical expenses and survival needs. Every single act of kindness counts. Even sharing this story with someone who may be able to help would mean the world to me.
I believe in the power of compassion. I believe that even in the darkest moments, light can come from the most unexpected places. And I believe that if you’ve taken the time to read this far, perhaps you are part of that light.
I am not asking for luxury or comfort—only the chance to fight for my health, to relieve this pain, and to live again with dignity and strength. Please, if you are able, help me take that step forward.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading, caring, and possibly giving.
With deep gratitude and hope,
Isayah Mangatu
Kenya
