Lung cancer patients have some of the longest and most painful journeys to reach the right care. I'll give you an example from just this past year—a gentleman had been treated in Eldoret for three years with chemotherapy that initially worked but later stopped. He had been tested for biomarkers, but his results were just sitting in his file, unreviewed.

I tend to post frequently about access programs—on LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook—so one of my colleagues saw a post and noticed that this patient had a mutation that made him eligible for a novel treatment we were offering free of charge at Nairobi Hospital. He traveled to Nairobi, started the tablets, and within a month his condition changed completely. His outlook is now bright. I saw him in clinic just yesterday—he told me, "You've saved me. I have a new lease on life."

He then asked something that haunts me: "How many others are like me, waiting in the dark?" The answer is too many. That's why these treatments and the knowledge around them must reach more patients.

I have a nurse who even had tumors in her brain. Now everything has disappeared. She's fully active, back to work. She's no longer having dreams of her funeral. When you impact that one life, it might look small, but that one life means everything to that person—because it's the only life they have.

Fifteen years ago, lung cancer meant death. We had chemotherapy and that was it—average survival was four to six months. Now, targeted therapies and immunotherapies have transformed the field. When we identify molecular mutations like EGFR, we can give drugs that specifically block how that cancer grows. And it works.

If you open the book now and see the number of new medicines we have for lung cancer, it's astronomical. In countries where they have full access to all these medicines, mortality has significantly dropped. The biggest problem in Africa isn't lack of science—it's lack of access to testing and lack of awareness. The right medicine exists, but patients are dying without ever being matched to it.

It plays a massive role. Take the patient I just mentioned—if we hadn't locally interpreted his biomarker results, he would've been declared terminal. Even now, we're seeing patients coming from Congo to Nairobi for these therapies. Some of them are now thriving.

It's not just about global research—it's how we translate it here, with our tools, for our people. Doctors must understand what to test for, when, and how to get the right drug to the patient. This regional expertise—what I call practical oncology—is saving lives.

This summit is powerful because it's not just academic—it's applied. We're hearing directly from experts like Dr. David Carbone on global data, but also from regional experts like Dr. Hagembe, Dr. Amina Kidee, and Dr. Jerry Ndumbalo, presenting cases from here in East Africa.

We're blending cutting-edge science with what's actually happening in our clinics. These conversations inform our practice, shape our systems, and push us to think bigger. It's not just about what works in the West—it's about how we make it work here.

Most of our patients come to us late. Symptoms are ignored or misdiagnosed for years. We need to build a culture of early testing. We also need to tackle tobacco—shisha, e-cigarettes, cigarettes, even chewing tobacco—all carry risk.

In shisha, whether it's in an electronic cigarette or a real cigarette, the carcinogens are in the tobacco. Some people chew tobacco and get mouth cancer—they're not inhaling it, but they're exposing a different part of their body to the same problem.

And don't get me started on secondhand smoke. I've seen families where the husband smokes his whole life until he's 70, gets throat cancer, then the wife gets lung cancer. When you ask, "Do you smoke?" She says no. "Has your husband smoked?" Yes, he has smoked for the last 60 years. Bingo. Decades of exposure.

We need the public to understand that lung cancer doesn't start with pain—it starts with silence. And by the time it hurts, it might already be too late.

That cancer is not the end. There are new treatments that work—really work. But we have to catch it early, test properly, and get patients the right drug.

People should ask their doctors: Have I been tested for mutations? Do I qualify for targeted therapy? Don't be afraid to question. Your life may depend on it.

And for our leaders—don't wait until it's your loved one who needs care. Invest now. Expand access now. Because we are sitting on undiscovered hope—and we must not waste it.

When I joined Kenyatta National Hospital, there were just four oncologists in the entire country. I was the first female radiation oncologist—the rest were men. Today, the number has surged. We've trained over 20 oncologists through the University of Nairobi alone. And through our national association, we've seen radiation oncology grow to over 60 professionals. That's real growth.

Back then, Kenyatta was the only cancer center. Now, we have over 10 centers across the country. And more importantly, we're training our oncologists locally. We used to send people abroad—now we build our capacity at home.

Even Kesho (Kenya Society of Hematology and Oncology), where I'm a longtime member, has grown tremendously. From a small group, we've become a recognized force in shaping policy, education, and treatment standards.

Compassion is the in thing. Patient satisfaction comes when you're treated by someone who feels your pain. That wasn't always the case. Years back, you'd go to a hospital and people were mean. Now, we are training doctors, nurses, and patient navigators to lead with compassion.

I've highlighted the rise of oncology nursing and navigation teams as crucial shifts that improve care quality and patient experience. This change is real—and patients can feel it.

Big pharma, like AstraZeneca, is finally coming to the ground—not just with science, but with real partnerships. Access programs are bringing drugs we used to only hear about in global journals right here to Kenyan patients. That's huge.

I'm also excited about AI-driven training for health workers, and how technology can help reach county-level health systems. Counties need to identify their own workforce gaps and send people for training. We must not centralize everything in Nairobi.

I'm a big believer in devolution of healthcare. The national level must support counties—but counties must also step up, own their needs, and act.

I'm grateful for this knowledge from summits like this—I'm going to apply it in practice. And it should be practice-changing knowledge—impactful for our patients, not just theoretical.

To young health professionals: Join this fight. This is your time. Cancer care in Africa needs your energy, your ideas, your heart.

And for the public? We've come so far. We now have oncologists, centers, access to advanced drugs. But we still need early screening, compassion, and public awareness. Everyone has a role to play.

Rewriting the future of cancer starts with us, and I'm ready to write it—with everyone here.

I’m someone deeply passionate about creating impact—not just in healthcare business, but in governance as well. I came here to align my vision with potential partners who can help me drive innovation that matters, and ultimately, inspire the next generation of healthcare changemakers.

As the Business Development Executive at Ultra Diagnostic Center—a disruptive new imaging and laboratory service provider—I found the discussions around precision diagnostics particularly impactful. The challenges in labs and imaging centers that affect diagnosis and prognosis of cancer really struck a chord. These are real gaps that we at Ultra are working to close.

One key insight is the urgent need for deeper collaboration—between medical doctors, diagnostic professionals, and even pharmaceutical companies like AstraZeneca. Innovation cannot happen in silos. Technology must be embedded in every step of the patient journey, especially in prognosis and early detection.

This summit helped crystallize my vision for innovation in healthcare. I’m currently ideating a health company that will create impact by building a digital platform connecting labs, imaging centers, and medical services. It’s about creating accessibility and driving solutions that matter.

Yes—meeting Dr. Ahmed Kalebi was a pivotal moment for me. His journey in precision medicine and lab technology is inspiring. He’s not just a mentor in title, but someone whose work is proof of what innovation in diagnostics can achieve.

It’s a game-changer. Events like this provide a platform to discuss diseases that are often ignored or underfunded. For example, we discussed the challenges around PET-CT scans, particularly the supply of FDG radioactive material, which is currently only available at Kenyatta University Teaching, Referral and Research Hospital. Any disruption there means diagnostic services halt across the board.

In the future, I’d love to see this summit grow—perhaps into a three-day event with even more partners. One day is simply not enough to unpack the ideas that can push East Africa’s oncology diagnostics to the next level.

One of the most powerful aspects of this summit was the diversity—participants from Uganda, Ethiopia, Egypt, Rwanda, Mauritius, and more.

Epidemiology varies across regions—where, when, and in whom cancer occurs. Learning how others manage similar diseases under different systems shifts perspectives and opens new possibilities.

This is how we grow—sharing programs, people, and progress.

We have new, effective treatments, but they are expensive. With proper collaboration, local manufacturing of some drugs is possible.

Kenya allocates only 2% of its health budget to research—and often funds are delayed. Imagine if every East African government increased this by 1–3%. That could radically improve local data and outcomes.

Ten years ago, lung cancer survival was three months. Today, targeted therapies and immunotherapies extend lives—with fewer side effects than chemotherapy.

Cancer no longer means inevitable death or suffering. Treatments have evolved—and so must our mindset.

You don’t have to be a doctor to fight cancer.

Social media advocacy, awareness campaigns, government lobbying, and community screening days can save lives.

This is achievable—but only with public engagement, not just expert efforts.

We gathered experts from seven countries, with rich conversations. But if all this knowledge doesn’t improve patient lives, what are we doing?

Yes, some drugs are expensive, some diagnostics unavailable. But we also learned how simple tools—like X-rays used wisely—can transform outcomes.

If we can convert these discussions into better outcomes, even in the most basic clinics, then this summit is a success.