Ashwathi Pandian, 15

School: Greenridge Secondary School

Topic: An email to encourage a kidney dialysis patient

Award: Senior Category, 2025

Dear Mr Chen, 

I left the dialysis centre that day with many thoughts echoing in my mind, — the machines, the quiet determination of the patients, the routine of something so heavy being treated like just another Tuesday, but your words stayed with me more than anything else could. I was compelled to write to you, not as a student, but simply as someone who cares and sees your strength. 

In a soft voice, almost unheard, you said you felt embarrassed to ask your family if they would consider donating a kidney to you. That one sentence revealed more than any chart or treatment ever could, it revealed the quiet weight you carry every day, and the incredible humility with which you carry it. 

Dialysis is something most people hear about but rarely understand. We outsiders imagine it as a routine, as something you just “get used to.” But there is nothing simple about living with a machine as your lifeline. The endless cycles of appointments, the physical toll, the exhaustion that never fully fades all while trying to keep up appearances for others. It’s not just tiring. It’s depleting. BUT at some point, enduring turns into surviving, and surviving isn’t the same as living. And that’s where this conversation with your family becomes so important. 

What struck me is how your hesitation comes from love. You’re protecting your family from discomfort, from pressure. But in doing so, you may be denying them something greater — the chance to save you, to show their love in the most profound way possible. 

I know what you’re afraid of. That by asking, you’re placing a heavy burden on someone you love. That you’re being selfish. That you’re crossing a line. But here’s the truth: asking is not demanding. It’s not about obligation. It’s about possibility. 

When you open that conversation, you’re not asking for a kidney. You’re asking for honesty. For the chance to be seen and understood in your vulnerability. You’re giving your loved ones the opportunity to consider something that could change your life — and theirs. That is not a burden. That is a privilege. And if the roles were reversed, wouldn’t you want the chance to help them? 

It’s easy to think of a kidney transplant as a clinical exchange of an organ, a recovery, a result. But the truth is, it’s far more than that. A transplant is a return. A return to mornings without fatigue clouding your vision. A return to meals without strict restrictions. A return to long walks, conversations with your grandchildren uninterrupted by exhaustion, and days that aren’t defined by dialysis sessions. you’re offering your family a window into your heart. You’re giving them the chance to listen, to understand, and to consider something that could transform not just your life but theirs too. You’re giving yourself back to them. 

You mentioned that your family members are healthy. That’s an open door. But they may not have given serious thought into donation — not because they don’t care, but because they haven’t been invited into that conversation. Because they haven’t realised that people often wait, unsure of when or how to speak. Don’t deny them the opportunity to stand beside you. What they might need is a sign from you and a moment of truth that says: “It’s okay to talk about this.” 

You don’t have to plan a dramatic speech. Just a quiet moment, a few honest words. Something like: “I’ve been afraid to bring this up, but I trust you, and I need to talk about something important.” You don’t need to ask for a decision, just a conversation. Just open the door for your family to help you. Whatever your decision, and however your family responds, just remember asking for help doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And it gives those who love you the chance to show it in the most powerful way possible. 

More than anything, I hope you remember this: you are not a burden. You are a human being who deserves the chance to live a fuller life. You’ve already endured so much. You deserve mornings without machines, days that belong to you, and the chance to live, not just getting by. And please know that many of us are quietly rooting for you. 

Warm regards,

Ashwathi Pandian

Disclaimer: Please note that the views and opinions expressed in the essays for the Live On Festival 2025 are those of the participants and are not endorsed by the National Organ Transplant Unit (Ministry of Health).

To learn more about organ donation and organ transplantation in Singapore, please visit www.liveon.gov.sg