By Chianti Marks
AFRO Intern
At the age of 30, Akosua “Sua” Bamfo found a small lump in her breast. It was October 2022. She immediately scheduled an appointment with her OB-GYN. After undergoing an MRI and ultrasound, she was told her breasts were too dense for clear imaging and that they would follow up in a few months.
“My doctor told me that it was most likely nothing since I had just turned 30, and it was normal for my breast tissue to change around this age,” Bamfo said. “I didn’t worry about it until something in my spirit wasn’t sitting right. I knew something else was up, but I also knew I wasn’t a professional, nor did I know anyone with breast cancer.”
She later found out, after doing genetic testing, that a history of breast cancer ran in the family.
Bamfo found herself in a position faced by many women: she was fighting both cancer and a medical system filled with professionals who didn’t believe her or the severity of the situation.
Through much self-advocacy and persistence, she finally received a biopsy almost a year later. She was diagnosed in July 2023 with stage 3 luminal A carcinoma, eight days before turning 31 years old.
“It was–and still, sometimes, is–hard to deal with the anger…what could have been stage 0 or 1 turned into stage 3, which is right under stage 4 — incurable,” Bamfo said. “That’s really frustrating.”
In her darkest moments, Bamfo leaned on her faith and the support of her loved ones. She said it was only by turning to God that she found peace amid the chaos.
“I just knew that no one could rescue me. No one could save me. No one could really console me, although my community really did [stand] strong for me,” she said. “I just locked in with God through prayer, worship and reading the Word — that’s how I dealt with the anger, grief, sorrow and pain.”
After finding strength through faith and prayer, Bamfo began an aggressive chemotherapy regimen. The physical toll was unlike anything she had imagined. For five years she had worn her hair in locs. Bamfo described losing her hair as “an ambiguous loss” — a painful symbol of the life she once knew.
“I thought that was going to be the worst pain,” she said. “But it wasn’t.”
Her chemotherapy lasted five grueling months. During treatment, she suffered a life-threatening complication. Still, Bamfo pushed through, determined to finish. When chemotherapy ended, she underwent a full right breast mastectomy.
“Both were scary,” she recalled, “but I had the love of my people — my dad, my sisters who flew in to be with me.”
After surgery, Bamfo completed radiation and physical therapy to regain strength. Now, she’s on hormonal treatment and ovarian suppression therapy to keep her hormones stable.
Through it all, Bamfo said her greatest source of inspiration came from witnessing how deeply her community showed up for her.
“One of my biggest inspirations that kept me going was seeing how God moved through my community,” she said. “I knew people loved me, but I didn’t know so many cared so deeply. I had friends from all over the country flying in, creating meal trains, sitting in the waiting room during surgery, driving me to chemotherapy — they looked out for me in every way.”
When asked what advice she would give to others facing a similar diagnosis, Bamfo’s message was one of faith, courage and hope.
“I would tell them that they’re not alone,” she said. “Even though nobody may fully understand what you’re going through, know that you are loved by God. Really surrender to Him and understand that you’re in a win-win situation.”
Bamfo recalled asking her doctor, on the day of her diagnosis, what the best- and worst-case scenarios could be.
“She said, ‘The best case is you get healed and live a normal life. The worst case is you walk outside today and get hit by a bus,’” Bamfo said. “At the time, that felt incredibly insensitive. But now, I see it differently. Either you beat cancer and live to tell your story, or your fight inspires others. Either way, God’s got you.”
For her, overcoming fear is one of the hardest — and most important — parts of the journey.
“It’s temporary,” she said. “You go through different stages, you heal, and you can fight and win.”
Bamfo’s story mirrors that of another survivor, Dr. Vernetta N. Owens, whose battle began nearly three decades earlier — both women finding their strength in faith, community and courage.
Owens was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1996 at 39 years old after discovering a lump in her breast during a self-exam. By the end of that month, she underwent a radical left mastectomy. Though she doesn’t recall the exact cancer type, her doctor warned it was highly aggressive and could spread quickly.
She began chemotherapy soon after surgery, enduring two rounds before becoming extremely ill during the second one.
“I got really, really sick behind it,” she said. “So I had a serious talk with God. I told Him, ‘You’ve got to fix this.’ And he did. I am healed — I’ve been healed for 29 years. Next year will make 30, and to God be the glory.”
Since recovery, Dr. Owens has devoted her life to ministry and cancer support. She’s served for more than 15 years with the East Coast Women’s Azusa Ministry and Grace Support Ministry, leading women’s conferences and prayer breakfasts.
“It’s been a joy to help somebody else,” she said. “When I went through, all I had was my family. But when I became part of these ministries, they became my family too.”
She also worked with Dr. Ruth Travis, founder of the Ruth’s Pink House, a nonprofit that supports breast cancer patients and survivors in need. “Whether it’s food, rent or encouragement, she makes sure we have what we need,” Owens said. “I’m proud to be part of her team.”
Now pursuing certification as a mental health coach at Light University in Virginia, Owens continues to help women prepare mentally and spiritually for the challenges of illness and healing.
“I tell these ladies that you should live and not die,” she said. “How you go through it is how you’re going to come out. If you go in with fear, it’s going to be difficult — but you have to have faith over fear.”
For Owens, every struggle has a purpose. “What you go through isn’t just for you — it’s so you can help someone else,” she said. “You’re not dying — you’re just sick right now. You’ve got to believe that God will help you and choose to operate in faith over fear at all costs.”
Though their diagnoses came nearly 30 years apart, Akosua Bamfo and Dr. Vernetta N. Owens share the same message — that even in life’s hardest battles, faith and community can turn pain into purpose. Their stories prove that survivorship is not the end of a story, but the beginning of one meant to inspire, empower and help others.