Inside a bustling hospital ward in Harare, Zimbabwe, the soft beeping of machines and the quiet shuffle of nurses marked a rare moment of hope for families who had long teetered on the edge of despair. Ten children from across the country, including three-year-old Gracious Chikova, had just received free open-heart surgery—an opportunity that, for most, had seemed utterly out of reach. Their stories, and those of others grappling with life-altering medical conditions, reveal both the daunting challenges and the flickers of possibility in healthcare systems across the world.
Gracious’s mother, Vimbainashe Chakanungwa, watched her daughter sip from a syringe, relief mingling with exhaustion. “I had given up. Those with money have been taking their children to India for surgery, but I simply couldn’t afford it,” she told The Associated Press. Earning just $300 a month as a teacher, she could barely cover basic needs, let alone the astronomical $15,000 typically needed for such surgery abroad. For families like hers, the July 2025 "heart camp" at Harare’s Parirenyatwa Hospital—run by a visiting team of Egyptian surgeons working alongside local doctors—was nothing short of a miracle.
Zimbabwe, a nation of more than 15 million, faces a severe shortage of specialized medical care. With only five cardiothoracic surgeons in the entire country, including Dr. Kudzai Kanyepi—the nation’s first and only female heart surgeon—the burden on the public health system is immense. Chronic shortages of functioning equipment and years of economic turmoil have further strained resources. Open-heart operations were paused entirely from 2018 until 2023, leaving countless children without options.
Since the resumption of these surgeries, local teams have operated on 55 children. An additional 19 young patients have benefited from two surgical camps in the past year, organized with Egyptian assistance and support from nongovernmental organizations such as Gift of Life International. The need, however, remains overwhelming. According to Dr. Simukayi Machawira, head of cardiology at Parirenyatwa Hospital, an estimated 4,500 children are born in Zimbabwe each year with congenital heart disease—the world’s most common birth defect, as noted by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Of these, about 30%—roughly 1,200 infants—are likely to die in their first year if left untreated.
“You can imagine, it’s quite a lot of children,” Dr. Machawira explained to AP. The scale of the problem is daunting, and the stakes could hardly be higher. Dr. Kudzai Kanyepi, who has dedicated her career to serving her country, put it plainly: “There is no medication that can replace surgery. The burden of disease remains, and unfortunately some of the children pass away without getting the help they desperately need. It is the reason why we continue to work in our country. There is nothing greater than helping your own people.”
For the families gathered in the hospital ward, the sense of relief was palpable. Some hovered over their children, tears of gratitude in their eyes, while others watched anxiously as nurses adjusted tubes and checked vital signs. One baby, recovering from surgery, slept beside a balloon scrawled with a smiley face—a small symbol of joy in an otherwise clinical setting. Chakanungwa, reflecting on her daughter’s ordeal, said, “I had resorted to prayer, just hoping for a miracle. It’s impossible to open my heart to show my gratitude and happiness. I was afraid that I could lose my baby, but here is the baby. She’s back to life.”
The Egyptian team leader, Dr. Hesham Shawky, has organized similar heart camps in Kenya and Uganda. He emphasized the importance of such initiatives: “This is the only solution for many people in Africa because they can’t afford private care.” For a continent where access to specialized surgery is often limited to those with the means to travel abroad, these collaborative efforts offer a crucial—if all too rare—lifeline.
Yet, while Zimbabwe’s heart camp offers a story of hope, it also highlights the profound disparities in access to healthcare worldwide. Across the globe in Bournemouth, England, 37-year-old Rob Lindsell has spent the past 15 years battling the consequences of a surgery intended to improve his quality of life. In July 2010, at the age of 22, Lindsell underwent the Nuss Procedure to correct pectus excavatum, a condition that causes the breastbone to press inward, compressing the heart and lungs. The surgery, which involves placing steel bars in the chest to reshape the sternum, was supposed to be routine. For Lindsell, it became a nightmare.
“I am having a lot of issues whereby food just isn’t staying down; I have insane acid reflux. I wake up in the night and literally choke on my stomach acid,” Lindsell told The Independent. Over the years, his ability to eat solid food deteriorated. He lost nearly two stone in just six months, forced to survive on a liquid diet of meal replacements and occasional soft foods. “I just want a chance to live with some sense of normality again,” he said. “It’s exhausting. I can’t go out for meals with friends or family. I can’t gain weight. I can’t date or build the kind of life I thought I would have by now.”
Lindsell’s case is complicated by scoliosis, a curvature of the spine present in about one in ten people with pectus excavatum. In his situation, the steel bar on one side stayed in place, but the other side collapsed, causing pressure inside his body and leading to a 10cm hernia. This, in turn, resulted in chronic acid reflux and the constant regurgitation of food. An endoscopy in 2025 confirmed the hernia, and further X-rays showed his spine had become more curved and his oesophagus was being crushed in several places.
Despite the severity of his symptoms, Lindsell claims that NHS doctors have refused to operate, describing the hernia as “liveable” and suggesting he see a dietitian. “I’ve been refused surgical help and told to see a dietitian as though this is something I can manage through willpower and a meal plan,” he said. Feeling abandoned by the public health system, he has launched a GoFundMe campaign to cover private medical costs and seek a second opinion. “The hernia is causing a lot of issues, but it seems the majority of my issues lie with the new shape of my spine. It is the worst-case scenario for me because it is not an easy fix,” Lindsell explained.
University Hospitals Dorset, when contacted by The Independent, stated: “For confidentiality reasons, we are unable to comment on individual patients, however, we would always encourage those who would like to discuss their care or treatment options to get in touch with our Patient Advice and Liaison Team.”
Whether in Zimbabwe or the UK, these stories reveal how the struggle for access to life-changing surgery can define entire lives. For some, a fleeting opportunity—like a visiting team of surgeons—can make all the difference. For others, the battle is ongoing, marked by frustration, resilience, and the hope that one day, help will come.
