Yunana learned the language of silence early. At seventeen, he was bright, handsome, and full of promise—but those words rarely appeared in the same sentence as his name. In Mallagum-Kagoro, Kaura Local Government Area of Kaduna State, where boys his age laughed loudly, played freely, and took up space without apology, Yunana learned to shrink instead.
He learned how to sit still when others ran. How to lower his eyes when jokes turned careless. How to excuse himself before anyone noticed the bulge beneath his clothes—the one reminder that what afflicted the elderly had chosen him far too early. From childhood, Yunana lived with a hernia. It wasn’t just a medical condition; it became a quiet companion, one that dictated how he walked, how he stood, how long he stayed in public spaces. While his peers discovered confidence, Yunana discovered shame. Not because he had done anything wrong, but because poverty had denied him the one thing that could have restored his dignity and freedom: surgery.
His diagnosis came early. The solution was known, but the cost was impossible, and so the years passed. Each day, his mother carried a fear she rarely voiced. She watched her son grow taller, brighter, but more withdrawn. She prayed over him at night and worried over him by day, knowing that her love alone could not pay hospital bills. Every pain became a question mark, and every delay felt dangerous. “Since he was small, he has been suffering,” she said, sitting in the recovery room, her voice almost trembling under the weight of memory. “Every day, I feared for his life because we don’t have the money for surgery.”
For years, hope felt like a luxury. Then December came, and with it, news that travelled faster than despair ever had: a free medical outreach was coming to Mallagum-Kagoro, hosted at the Jennifer Etuh Specialist Hospital (JESH). For many families, it sounded almost too good to be true. Free care. Real medical professionals. Real treatments. Real surgeries. No hidden cost. Still, hope—when you’ve lived without it for long—feels risky. But Yunana’s family dared to believe.
At JESH, the waiting rooms were filled with numerous silent stories. Mothers clutched children whose pain had become normalized. Fathers stood quietly, calculating what they could never afford. Among them was another mother, whose six-year-old son had lived with a hernia since birth.
“When we heard the announcement that Jennifer Etuh Foundation was coming to Mallagum, we rushed here immediately because we could not afford treatment anywhere else,” she said, her eyes fixed on her recovering child.
Two children. Two mothers. Two stories shaped by two realities: the absence of resources and unexpected grace.
Yunana’s surgery was successful. No complications. No bills. No bargaining dignity for care. Just healing. In the recovery room, his mother sat beside him, evidently overjoyed. Years of fear loosened their grip. Years of prayers found their answer. Her eyes—eyes that had learned to live with despair—now shone as she looked at her son. “This programme saved my child. God will reward everyone behind it,” she said simply.
What no medical chart could record was what truly changed that day. Yunana did not just receive surgery. He received release. Release from shame. Release from hiding. Release from the quiet belief that his life had to be lived smaller than others’. For the first time in years, the future did not feel like something to endure—it felt like something to step into. This is the power of one act of kindness. It is the power to take a boy who learned silence too early and give him back his voice. To take children whose lives were paused by circumstance and press play again. To remind families that dignity should never be priced beyond reach.
These are among the thousands of testimonials we received in 2025, when we hosted seven free medical outreaches across Nigeria’s six geopolitical zones- reaching Kogi, Cross River, Ekiti, Osun, Abia, Gombe, and Kaduna States. In that year alone:
- 22,115 individuals received quality medical care and
- 52,062 medical interventions were carried out
Through our health, social, and economic support programs, we witnessed how one act of kindness can set off a chain reaction that ripples through families, restoring dignity and transforming communities. This is why we exist, and this is why we step into gaps that others overlook. Not for numbers or applause but for moments like this—when shame finally lets go, and hope walks back in. Because sometimes, all it takes to rewrite a life is one door opened at the right time, and for Yunana, that door led to healing.
So, where have we been over the last while? We have been deepening impact and transforming lives across Nigeria, one community at a time. 😃
A New Year, A Renewed Commitment to Saving Lives
2026 meets us at a beautiful intersection- the celebration of five years of service and impact. As we reflect on how far we’ve come, we have also rolled up our sleeves, ready to do more- to show up consistently, serve excellently, and love boldly because kindness is a currency that never goes out of style. This year, we are poised to take kindness to every nook and cranny because every life is sacred and every transformed destiny tells a story worth fighting for.
A New Year, A Steadier Stride
JEF has never been about quick fixes or headline moments. From the very beginning, our work has been rooted in restoring dignity, strengthening systems, and ensuring that access to healthcare, opportunity, and support is not a privilege reserved for a few. That’s why this year, we move forward with greater clarity, sharper focus, and stronger partnerships—building systems, expanding programmes, and refining solutions that will stand the test of time.
This Space, Going Forward
Think of this blog as our shared table. A place where we reflect, tell stories, ask better questions, and bring you closer to the heart of our work, our people, our process, and our purpose—not just the outcomes. What you can always expect here is honesty, hope, and the intersection between intention and action.
As We Begin Again
At the threshold of five years, we are grateful for the trust, support, communities, and the many hands that make our work possible. We invite you to join us as a supporter, a volunteer, or a partner in compassion. This way, when we say “thousands treated,” you’ll know it means thousands of prayers answered. When we say “successful surgeries and treatments,” you’ll know it means destinies restored. When we say “free,” it means burdens lifted because impact is not abstract to us; it is personal.
As we begin again, we would like to thank you for walking through this journey with us. Here’s to a new year of greater impact, exponential growth, and transformed lives—one community at a time.
Welcome to 2026. We’re glad you’re here.😃💯