A 12-year-old’s journey through darkness and back to hope.

The First Signs
In the quiet town of Mukah, a cheerful girl once filled her days with running and laughter. Alvieyanna or simply Yen, a 12-year-old whose bright smile could light up even the dullest day. But in June 2024, that light began to flicker.

It started innocently with fevers that refused to fade, headaches that lingered longer than usual, eyes that could no longer see clearly. During one of her running competitions, Yen mentioned to her mother that her vision was blurry. Her mother thought it was nothing serious, perhaps exhaustion from the heat. But within weeks, the fevers worsened and Yen grew weaker. She lost her appetite, became unsteady on her feet and sometimes her eyes crossed. Something was terribly wrong.

Her mother took her to the clinic in Mukah. When Yen’s condition didn’t improve, she was transferred to Mukah Hospital and immediately admitted to the ICU for monitoring. Very soon after, they urgently moved her to Sibu Hospital ICU. There, scans revealed something unimaginable — a tumor in her brain.

On 2 July 2024, Yen underwent her first operation to remove fluid from her head. The next day, doctors confirmed the diagnosis: Medulloblastoma, a type of brain cancer.

A Mother’s Strength, a Daughter’s Fight

For any parent, the word cancer is like thunder—sudden, deafening, and shattering. Yet, through the tears and fear, Yen’s mother stood strong, praying for a miracle. A second surgery soon followed to remove a 4cm tumor from Yen’s brain. Her recovery was slow and at times painful. She could not speak for a week, had to drink through a feeding tube and cried from the discomfort. But behind those tears was a quiet fighter determined not to give up.

By mid-July, Yen was transferred to Sarawak General Hospital (SGH) in Kuching for further treatment. The long journey away from home was daunting for both mother and daughter. They stayed at the Sarawak Children’s Cancer Society (SCCS) halfway home, which became their sanctuary for nearly a year. There, amidst the sterile smell of hospitals and the hum of machines, Yen’s story of courage began to unfold.

Courage Through Pain and Support from the Community

Yen went through months of radiotherapy and chemotherapy, enduring countless needles, blood tests, and medicines that made her nauseous. Her back burned from the radiation, her appetite disappeared, and her once-lively spirit dimmed. Yet every morning, Yen would gather strength to do her leg exercises — small, determined movements that spoke volumes of her will to heal.

Says Yen, “My emotions were very unstable at the beginning. In Sibu Hospital, after the surgery, I was unable to speak for a week. I became frustrated, sometimes throwing things at the nurses, and I had to drink milk through a feeding tube,”

Her mother was her constant shadow, holding her through the darkest hours, encouraging her to eat, whispering prayers through tears. There were nights when Yen said she wanted to go home, to rest, to stop fighting. But her mother reminded her gently that she was brave, that many people were praying for her — her father who called every morning, her siblings, friends from church and even her teachers who visited during radiotherapy sessions.

Through the compassion of SCCS, the family’s heavy burdens lightened. Accommodation, meals, and emotional support were all provided, allowing Yen’s mother to focus on her daughter’s recovery. “Without SCCS,” her mother said, “I don’t know how we would have survived being so far from home.”

A New Beginning

When Yen’s treatment finally ended on 14 June 2025, the family wept — not from sorrow, but from relief. The long, grueling chapter was closing. Yen had fought with every ounce of her little body, and though the road to full recovery is still long, she has come a long way from the fragile girl in the ICU.

Back home in Mukah now, Yen is slowly returning to the rhythm of life. She hasn’t fully rejoined school yet, but her parents plan to enroll her in a special education program where she can learn at her own pace and regain her confidence. Every day, she continues her exercises by lifting her legs, taking careful steps while watching her favorite shows or chatting with her family. Her smile has returned, brighter than before, a reflection of resilience and hope.

Yen’s appetite has come back too. She still loves fried chicken and mee goreng basah, her comfort food even during the hardest days of treatment. Before her illness, Yen loved sports and physical training, and she dreams of one day returning to the track, running freely under the open sky again.

Holding On to Hope

Her mother says Yen’s greatest strength is her spirit, gentle yet unbreakable.

“She never gave up. Even when she cried, she still tried. The family has learned to treasure every simple moment such as a shared meal, a quiet evening, a day without hospital visits. We used to take time for granted,” her mother said softly, adding that now, every day feels like a gift.

To other parents walking the same road, Yen’s mother offers words of faith, “Never give up, no matter how hard it gets. Believe in the doctors, trust the process, and keep praying. Do not isolate yourself. There are others who understand this pain. Share it, and you’ll find strength.”

As for Yen, she continues to move forward, one small brave step at a time. Her journey is a reminder that courage isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s a quiet 12-year-old girl, smiling through her pain, holding her mother’s hand. Because despite everything, Alvieyanna’s light still shines steady, gentle, and full of hope.