I recently graduated from a degree in Biomedical Science with first class honours and I’m now working in a diagnostic laboratory analysing Covid-19 samples sent by the NHS. I was born and grew up in Malaysia and I feel very fortunate to be part of a family who are practising Nichiren Buddhism.

When I was just a young boy, I didn’t really understand the significance of chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo or Soka Gakkai activities, and therefore I didn’t chant regularly. Even though I went to meetings with my parents, I’d usually fool around.

This all changed in 2005, when I was 8 years old. I came home from school with a headache, which gradually became worse and I started to develop a fever. My parents took me to a paediatrician and I had an MRI scan, which showed a golf ball-sized tumour in the lower part of my brain. I was immediately admitted to hospital and surgery was scheduled for the next day. The news literally shattered my family but, because I was so young, I had no idea what was going on.

My parents let the local SGI members know about my condition and they immediately arranged a special chanting session for the success of my surgery. Owing to the complexity of the brain, the surgery lasted six and a half hours. Unfortunately, a biopsy showed that the tumour was malignant and we were therefore advised to seek further treatment immediately.

Initially, we tried alternative treatments, but three months later, my tumour had not only come back, but this time it was bigger and had grown deeper into my brain. Along with the symptoms I’d had before, I also started having difficulty breathing and began to lose balance. My parents wanted to me to have a second surgery as soon as possible, but they were told that the surgeon was on holiday and would be back in a week’s time.

Therefore, all we could do was chant for a week, supported by the local members. A leader who supported children’s activities came to the hospital and he encouraged me by saying: ‘You’re a general going into battle against this cancer and you must have faith in yourself and triumph over this obstacle.’ With this encouragement, I chanted in my heart that I would be able see my parents again after my surgery. To everyone’s surprise, the surgery took much less time than expected and was very successful.

Over the following year, I underwent a total of thirty-three cycles of radiotherapy and six cycles of chemotherapy. It was the most horrendous year of my life. We were told that there might be long-term side effects, such as delayed growth and a decrease in my IQ, and so on. However, despite being absent from school for a year, my academic performance did not suffer and my teachers praised me for being a model student.

I started to become actively involved in SGI-Malaysia activities, including various cultural groups, such as the children’s choir. From then on, the Soka Gakkai became a place where I had the opportunity to learn essential skills, such as teamwork, critical thinking and communication. After a few years, I became a committee member on one of the choirs and I had a blast working together with my juniors during our weekly choir practice.

I always had an aspiration to attend university because of the high hopes that my mentor SGI President Daisaku Ikeda places on young people to be the future leaders of the world. He often writes about education being a powerful means for setting humanity on the path of peace and happiness. This continually encouraged me to never give up no matter what obstacles I encountered.

Photo by Nick Hayles

After secondary school, I took a gap year to explore my options and I had the opportunity to visit Belgium and the UK. As a result, I decided that I wanted to go to university in the UK.

As soon as I came back to Malaysia, I started to work towards realising my dream.
I enrolled onto an A-Level course and, at the same time, I continued doing Soka Gakkai activities. I feel that this balance of studies and activities finally paid off, two years later, when I was able to get good results in my A-level examinations.

I had developed a keen fascination in the subjects of biology and chemistry and this interest became stronger during my A-Levels. Eventually, I started applying to various universities in London that offered Biomedical Science degree courses. However, I struggled considerably with my personal statement as I began to receive poor feedback about it. I chanted earnestly to have the wisdom to overcome this and produce a remarkable personal statement. It took three strenuous months to complete and, a few weeks after I submitted my applications, I received an offer of a place from every university I had applied to.

My visa application became a race against time as I had less than a month to prepare my documents in time to attend the university’s orientation programme in September. Once again, my family and I came together to chant earnestly for a smooth process.

At the same time, I wanted to try my luck and apply for the £3,000 scholarship offered by the university. I was just an average student with minimum work experience. The only skills I had were from taking part in SGI activities and so I put this down on the application. To my surprise, I was awarded the scholarship.
For the first time, I was living independently from my family. To begin with, I had a hard time making new friends in this foreign country. However, I quickly joined my local SGI-UK district and student division activities. I gradually built up my confidence and continued to develop and strengthen my faith.

Owing to my experiences, I would like to become a cancer researcher in the future, deepening an awareness of all cancer variants as well as the advance of more efficient therapies to lessen the side effects and suffering of people with this disease.

I would like to conclude my experience with this quotation from Nichiren Daishonin:

Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is like the roar of a lion. What sickness can therefore be an obstacle?1

References
  1. Nichiren Daishonin, ‘Reply to Kyo’o’ (WND-1, p. 412).