A breast cancer survivor knits prostheses in Kenya as silicone ones are costly

THIKA, Kenya — When Mary Mwangi got her cancer diagnosis, she imagined death would follow shortly. She did not expect that her hobby of knitting, which she took up while recovering, would affect the lives of thousands of breast cancer survivors.

She now makes knitted prostheses for other breast cancer survivors in Kenya who who have had an entire breast removed, known as a mastectomy, without the reconstructive surgery common in higher-income countries.

Women say the affordable prostheses are a relief in Kenya where, as in most countries, breast cancer is the most diagnosed cancer among women. On average, 6,000 cases are diagnosed annually in Kenya, where 40% of the population lives below the poverty line.

Mwangi began in 2017 by knitting hats and scarves, then met a woman who was knitting a prosthesis.

Now, in her shared tailor shop in Thika, outside the capital of Nairobi, Mwangi shares her knowledge with other women, calling her group the New Dawn Cancer Warriors. Some make money from the art, while others use it as an outlet whenever they are overwhelmed by the grief of losing a breast.

“Knitting takes you through a process of healing. Once you are not thinking about your disease, you are positive and that positive mind helps you, because healing starts from your mind,” she said.

For Nancy Waithera, a high school science teacher, meeting Mwangi before her surgery aided her recovery as she bought the prosthesis and started to picture life without one breast.

When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, “everything turned dark.” Her husband had recently died, and the diagnosis crushed her further.

But her meeting with Mwangi restored hope, and after surgery she looked forward to her incision healing so she could try on the knitted prosthesis.

On the first day of wearing it, when she was going to church, “I felt like Nancy had come back,” she said. “My ego was restored. My dignity was restored.”

Cancer remains a huge burden in developing countries like Kenya due to the high cost of treatment. Just over 50% of breast cancer patients in Kenya present with an advanced stage of the disease at diagnosis, according to the health ministry, which is working on standardizing early detection.

Mwangi’s knitted prostheses cost $10 per breast, or one-sixth of the price of silicone ones in Kenya. Her group of women knit and sell them to organizations that donate to cancer survivors who cannot afford to buy them. Together, they have sold more than 600 pieces in the last three years.

The yarn-knitted prostheses are filled with the kind of fiber used in pillows. Women said it feels gentle on their skin.

Hannah Mugo, a housewife and mother, said she was lucky to upgrade from filling her bra with clothes, which left her looking rather unbalanced, to donning a knitted prosthesis filled with fiber that boosted her confidence.

“I used to stay indoors because I didn’t want people to label me as the ‘woman with one breast’,” Mugo said. She met Mwangi and learned how to knit, not just for herself but for sale as well.

Experts say hobbies and support groups play a critical role in healing and recovery for cancer patients. Breast cancer survivor Eglah Wambui, who also knits with Mwangi, recalled that a woman she met during her treatment killed herself due to what doctors said was depression.

“Knitting is therapeutic and helps take away my thoughts,” said the mother of two.

Surgeon Daniel Ojuka, who has seen some of the donated prostheses at the Kenyatta National Hospital cancer treatment center, said having a plan for life after surgery and a supportive community makes recovery “significantly easier.”

Ojuka said having a mastectomy is the cheapest option for Kenyan women diagnosed with breast cancer, and reconstructive surgery for the affected breast is out of reach for many. It is not covered by the national health insurance system.

Even though surgeons prepare patients to wake up after surgery with a flat chest, the loss is deeply affecting, he said. He has watched patients weep after waking.

For Mwangi, cancer no longer feels like a death sentence. She said she is determined to train more women to knit the prostheses while keeping their hope alive.

“There is life after cancer, and cancer is not a death sentence, because I’m a living testimony,” she said.