When Texas-based couple Siri and Divine Mabo stood before their computer screens on Zoom on Saturday, surrounded by family, friends, and members of the literary community, they were not just launching a book. They were unveiling a testimony, a journey of pain, faith, and perseverance. The occasion marked the release of ‘Conceived’, Siri Mabo’s deeply personal book, at an event hosted by Writers of African Origin in the Diaspora (WAFORD), an arm of the Pan African Writers Association (PAWA). Alongside the book, they also unveiled a foundation dedicated to battling sickle cell disease and autism, two conditions that have shaped their family’s story and faith in profound ways.
‘This is a testimony of God’s mercy,’ Siri said during the virtual launch, her voice steady but tender. ‘We are putting this book out there so that it would encourage others. We are putting ourselves out there for people who are going through issues.’
For Siri, ‘Conceived’ is more than just a title; it is revelation. ‘When I was writing, I had no title,’ she explained. ‘I kept speaking to the Holy Spirit, and one morning, the Holy Spirit told me this was the title. ‘Conceived’ does not just mean giving birth, it means so many things.’
The Mabos’ journey began like that of many couples in love, full of dreams, plans, and the conviction that their future was secure. They grew up in Cameroon, where many were aware of sickle cell disease. Determined to avoid its heartache, they both underwent genotype testing before marriage. ‘We had agreed that if we were AS, we would not marry,’ she recalled. ‘Our tests showed we were AA, so we thought we were clear.’
The couple got married and subsequently welcomed their first child, Nathan. Tests confirmed he was AA, just like his parents, or so they believed. Later, they welcomed twin boys, Brian and Brandon. The delivery was smooth, the babies healthy, and the family’s joy unrestrained. But days later, everything changed.
‘I got a call from the Texas Department of Health,’ Siri recounted. ‘The lady said our babies tested positive for sickle cell disease. I told her it was not possible.’
The next morning, they visited their pediatrician, who ordered new tests. To their shock, the results confirmed the diagnosis. More bewildering still, when Divine and Siri retested, they both turned out to be AS. Somehow, their original test results in Cameroon had been wrong.
‘I couldn’t breathe,’ Siri said. ‘I had just given birth, and my hormones were everywhere. I had a panic attack, it felt like I was dying. I was angry at myself, angry with God. I felt as a mom I should have known something was wrong.’
Divine, too, struggled. He questioned God, asking why such suffering had come upon them despite their caution and prayers. But even amid their grief, they resolved to learn, to fight, and to hope.
The Mabos began researching treatment options. They learnt about bone marrow transplants, a potentially curative but risky procedure for sickle cell disease. When they brought it up at the hospital, doctors were hesitant. ‘They told us it was too risky,’ Siri said. ‘They just shut us down. They said it could kill the children.’
Still, the couple could not shake the feeling that this was the path God wanted them to explore. They prayed and decided to test their first son, Nathan, to see if he was a genetic match for one of the twins. Then came another setback when COVID-19 struck. Hospitals canceled all non-emergency procedures, and the Mabos’ plans were put on hold.
‘They had told us the twins would be fine for six months,’ Siri recalled. ‘But at five months, one of them started having pains. We just sat with him crying.’ With hospitals overwhelmed by the pandemic, they were advised to manage the crisis at home. ‘We just had to be strong.’
Eventually, testing resumed. Nathan turned out to be a 100 percent match for Brian, but only a 70 percent match for Brandon. The doctors agreed to proceed with Brian’s bone marrow transplant.
What followed was a grueling period of hospitalisation, prayers, and sleepless nights. ‘A lot happened during the transplant,’ Siri said. ‘At one point, a nurse kept saying we need to take this child to the ICU, but others were shutting her down. My husband called me to start coming because Brian was not doing well. He had to be on life support. It was during COVID.’
As if the sickle cell ordeal was not enough, the Mabos were dealt another blow. Around the same time, they began noticing that Nathan, their firstborn, wasn’t developing like other children his age.
‘Nathan wasn’t talking,’ Siri said. ‘We later found out he had autism. I didn’t know what to focus on, autism, sickle cell, or both.’
The revelation brought more questions than answers, but Siri refused to sink into despair. Drawing strength from her faith and support groups, she began exploring in-vitro fertilisation (IVF) as a way to have another child who could be a perfect bone marrow match for Brandon, the twin who still needed treatment.
‘We went through IVF,’ she said. ‘Five embryos were gotten from me, and of all the five, none carried the sickle cell gene. We found a match for Brandon. We had our daughter through IVF, and when she was one, she donated her bone marrow for her brother.’
It was a moment of divine symmetry, a sister born to heal her brother, a new life conceived not only through science but also through faith.
For Divine, telling their story publicly was not easy. ‘It is really not natural for us to put our story out there,’ he said. But they both felt compelled to share, believing their experience could inspire others facing similar struggles. Their foundation, launched alongside the book, aims to raise awareness about genetic testing, support families managing sickle cell and autism, and promote research and compassion-driven care.
During the launch, Rev. Ango Fomuso Ekellem, who moderated the event, commended Divine for standing steadfastly by his wife through their trials. ‘When I was reading this book,’ she said, ‘I felt these were people God has chosen to bring hope to the world. If I were to title it, I would call it ‘A Chosen Family’. There is a beautiful family drama that started with pain and ends with joy. You will not finish this book without crying.’
Indeed, Conceived is not just a memoir, it is a chronicle of resilience, faith, and the unseen hands of providence. Siri’s storytelling is raw and reflective, grounded in the everyday chaos of motherhood and the silent strength of endurance. It captures the sleepless nights, the helpless tears, the whispered prayers, and the slow rebuilding of faith after disappointment.
Today, the Mabos’ children are thriving. Brian and Brandon have survived what once seemed impossible. Nathan continues to grow, with the family embracing his unique journey with autism. Their youngest, the little girl who became a savior to her brother before her second birthday, is a symbol of hope that miracles can indeed be conceived, even in the midst of adversity.
For Siri, writing Conceived was both cathartic and purposeful. ‘When we were going through the trials,’ she reflected, ‘I kept asking God why I got myself into this. But now I see that our story is meant to help others.’
Her words echo the very heartbeat of the book, a declaration that even in the darkest valleys, faith can illuminate a path forward. Through the Mabos’ story, readers are reminded that suffering, while painful, can be transformed into a source of healing for others.
Their foundation now serves as an extension of that vision, a platform to support families, advocate for awareness, and spread the message that no diagnosis is the end of hope.
As Rev. Ekellem said, theirs is a chosen family, chosen not just for trial but for triumph. And through ‘Conceived’, their victory now belongs to all who dare to believe that even when life breaks us open, something beautiful can still be conceived.
In a world often quick to silence pain, Siri and Divine Mabo have chosen to speak, to share their scars so others may find strength. Their journey, though marked by tears, has blossomed into a ministry of encouragement, a living testament that love, anchored in faith, can withstand even the fiercest storms.