“People assume that having a chronic condition means not being able to handle responsibility or maintain consistency.”
Sickle Shield sat down to talk with Opeyemi Lawal Adeyemo, Author of Unbroken Veins: From Pain to Purpose. Known for her distinctive voice of truth, her writings carry warmth, clarity, and depth, bringing comfort, courage, and spiritual renewal to readers across cultures and generations.
Hi, my name is Opeyemi Lawal Adeyemo. I’m an Author and Healing Storyteller. My mission is simple yet profound: to heal, to awaken, and to transform, one story, one soul at a time.
My journey began during my childhood. I've been writing right since I was a kid because I had no friends. Being diagnosed with sickle cell at 3 months, I was stigmatised a lot by my peers. And so being an only child forced me to find comfort within myself, which was through writing.
I wrote down everything: my thoughts, my pains, my worries, my experiences, everything. I journaled and bled my thoughts out on paper, and that brought relief. Over time, writing became more than just writing to me.
A few months before my 30th birthday, during a severe health crisis, everything changed. I wasn’t sure I would survive. At that moment, lying in pain, facing mortality, my thoughts went beyond myself. I thought about other sickle cell warriors: voiceless, unseen, silently enduring. I realized there was a story I had not yet told. If this were to be my last season, I wanted it to mean something.
That was when Unbroken Veins: From Pain to Purpose was born.
The book was raw, unfiltered, deeply vulnerable. It was not written to impress, but to awaken compassion, to help society understand what sickle cell warriors carry every day, and to let other warriors know they are not alone.
I knew that someone had to be vulnerable enough, without fear of judgment, to spill it all out. From that point on, writing was no longer just an expression. It became identity, a purpose, and a calling.
In my career as an author, one thing I have learned is that, contrary to the belief that chronic illness diminishes ambition, I believe that sickle cell disease refined my creativity. It taught me resilience, patience, and how to find beauty in difficult moments. Those qualities live in my stories, my themes, and my characters.
As expected, my condition made doubts creep in, and like many warriors, I have questioned my path. Especially on days when my body felt fragile, and my dreams felt heavy. But each time, I returned to storytelling, because it was the one place I felt myself, where my voice mattered. Even when I wished for something easier, I always came back to storytelling because it gives me purpose and joy.
As a sickle cell warrior, my work life shifts with my health, and I have learned to honor that rhythm. On stable days, I write with structure and intention. On difficult days, I slow down, journal, outline ideas, rest, and listen to my body.
With time, my idea of productivity had to evolve. I used to think productivity meant constant activity, long hours, and nonstop output. Now, I’ve learned that being productive also means planning, pacing myself, and staying consistent in sustainable ways. Some days, productivity is writing a chapter, and other days it’s organizing ideas or simply giving my body the care it needs.
I’ve simply embraced a version of productivity that values balance, not burnout.
Similarly, protecting my health and protecting my ambition go hand in hand. I’ve learned that I don’t have to push myself to the edge to be successful. Instead, I’ve created a rhythm that lets me stay healthy and still move forward. It’s not about doing everything at once; it’s about being consistent in a way that my body can manage. Because taking care of myself isn’t a detour from my goals; it’s part of what allows me to reach them.
Also, like many warriors, I am often underestimated. Many people assume that having a chronic condition means I can’t handle responsibility or maintain consistency. Navigating that hasn’t always been easy, but I learned to clearly communicate my work style, set realistic expectations, and let my work speak for itself.
Over time, people understood that my health doesn’t define my capability; it simply means I work with more awareness and intention.
One thing that has helped me a lot is finding the right space. Finding the right space and the right people starts with paying attention to how you feel around them. The right spaces make room for your needs instead of making you feel guilty for having them.
Therefore, look for communities, workplaces, or friendships where communication is open, where people listen, and where your boundaries are respected. Sometimes it takes trial and error, but each experience teaches you what support truly looks like for you.
Today, I am proud, not just of my published work, but of the healing, discipline, and honesty behind it. My creativity has become both a voice and a legacy. To warriors afraid their dreams are unrealistic, I say,
“Don’t measure your progress using someone else’s timeline. Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t, and surround yourself with people and spaces that understand your rhythm.”