A case of a Paediatric Liver Transplant. Roger was just a Uber cab driver. But for Milly, he became everything that she needed, even a liver donor.
When Milly was born, she came into the world quiet. Too quiet. The doctors said it was normal. That some babies take a moment. But in the days that followed, it became clear something wasn’t right.
Her skin turned yellow. Not just a newborn jaundice yellow, but the kind that deepens and doesn’t fade. Tests followed. So many tests. By the end of her third month, the diagnosis came — biliary atresia. Her tiny liver was failing her.
Roger, her father, had never heard the term before. He spent his days driving around the city of Lagos, Nigeria as a Uber cab driver. The pay was just enough. The work was long. But he was proud of the life he had built. He was a man of principles.
But now, nothing made sense.
Roger and his wife, Adaa, were told that their daughter would not survive without a liver transplant. And not just any transplant — a paediatric one. In countries like theirs, such procedures were rare and unaffordable. Every night, Manoj sat on the floor by his daughter’s crib, watching her breathe, counting the seconds between each strained inhale. There’s a helplessness that fills a father when he cannot fix what is broken.
Until one night, he made a decision.
If his daughter needed a liver — she could have his.
But how? Where?
Roger had overheard someone at the LUTH talk about India, about children who had received transplants there and survived. He searched online. Endless pages of hospitals, forms, confusing terms. Until he came across something different — Monk On The Go. The name felt strange at first, but the words that followed were simple, warm, and clear. “We walk with you through every step of your medical journey.”
It felt like hope. He sent a message that night.
Within 24 hours, a soft-spoken man responded. “We’re here. Tell us everything.” And Roger did. He sent every report, every image, every detail of Milly’s health.
The process unfolded quickly after that. Monk arranged a video call with one of India’s leading paediatric liver transplant specialists. They confirmed: yes, a transplant was possible. And yes, Roger could be the donor.
Now that Roger & Adaa knew that there is a way, they had to figure out how to get there. Unfortunately they didn’t have much time. They knocked on every possible door to raise the fund.
Thankfully, Adaa’s cousin in the USA stepped in. She created a GoFundMe page for crowdfunding support. They uploaded all the necessary documents – from Milly’s diagnosis to the treatment plan provided by Fortis Memorial Research Institute, with help of Monk.
Simultaneously their cousin reached out to the Nigerian diaspora in the USA & Canada asking them for support. Miraculously, it worked. People started donating… from as little as USD 20 to as much as USD 5000 from an anonymous source.
The plan was finally beginning to come together. While the money was making its way through donations and crowdfunding, Roger turned his focus to logistics of traveling to India. They applied for international passports. Monk’s team supported with Visa invitation letter. Alongside, Monk took Roger through a series of legal documentation and affidavits that needed to be fulfilled before they leave for India.
It wasn’t just logistics. It was the care — the clarity. Visa support, airport pickup, accommodation near FMRI. Monk took care of it all.
The day Roger was wheeled into the OT, he squeezed Adaa’s hand and whispered, “Milly will live. She has to.”
The surgery was long, hours that felt like days. But when it ended, both father and daughter had survived. And slowly, Milly began to glow. The yellow in her skin faded. Her eyes cleared. Her smile returned.
They stayed in India for two months. Recovery was slow, and filled with regular check-ups, medications, diet restrictions, but never loneliness. Monk’s local team brought food when they couldn’t cook, sat with Roger during follow-ups, and even celebrated Milly’s first birthday in the apartment with cake and toys.
When they flew back to Lagos, it was with more than a discharge summary. It was with life. A second chance.
Back at work, Roger still drives Uber. But now, there’s a photo of Milly on the dashboard. Her eyes bright, her smile wide. She runs now. Eats fruits and dances to music she doesn’t understand.
People call him brave. A hero. But he just shakes his head and says, “I’m just her father.”
And for Milly, that has always been enough.
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