It’s not every day that you get to meet a real life hero.

In this world full of lies, illusions, false glamour, falsely shining stars, fake heroes, celebrities that promote all kinds of deviant behavior and a system of wrong values, it is such a rare thing to meet a real life hero.

Two days ago I met mine.

He is a 15 year old boy. Two days ago, accompanied by his mother, he came to the gym where I teach jiu jitsu. Some of the guys told me that there’s a lady with her son asking for me. I went to them and introduced myself first to his mother and then to this young smiling boy.

He was barely able to stand on his own, and struggling, he put his hand out wanting to shake mine. His hand was shaking and I barely caught it. He said his name. I didn’t catch it. He repeated it, struggling even to say his own name, even though it’s short and easy to pronounce.

Although he was smiling and really polite, I could see he was angry at himself for not pronouncing his name clearly. I didn’t want him to struggle again, so I pretended that I understood and heard his name. Later, his mom told me his name is Afan. Three years ago, Afan had a brain cancer operation. Yes, he had brain cancer. He was in a situation where most of us would crumble and fall, where most of us would give up and tap out. But not him. He refused to give up. He refused to die without a fight.

He fought back. He fought and he won. He won against the toughest opponent that you could imagine. And he won—he beat the cancer. But the battle left traces on his body; the gruelling fight left him almost completely paralysed. And what did he do? He fought again, because that’s what he does: he fights. That’s who he is: he is a fighter. Day after day he fights. He slips and falls, but he doesn’t quit. He doesn’t give up. He picks himself up and fights again. Therapies, treatments, special therapeutic training, and the will of a fearsome warrior results in a miracle— and he walks again.

Small steps on wobbly legs, leaning on a wall, but he is walking again. And he is talking again, but the fighter in him doesn’t let him settle with just walking and talking—he wants more. He wants to train jiu jitsu. The will in this young man is inspiring. Tonight was his second session, and he’s in love with jiu jitsu and can’t wait for next one. The smile on his face when he shrimps correctly is priceless. Maybe he is just a beginner, but to me he represents everything that jiu jitsu stands for: the struggle of a “little guy” fighting a bigger, stronger opponent, being in a tough position, and surviving—being able to overcome difficulties and come out on top, a winner despite all odds. In my eyes he is already a black belt.

I really hope jiu jitsu will help him continue improving and making progress, and that it will be a big part of his full recovery. I really hope he will stay and make jiu jitsu a part of his life so one day we will remember these times with a smile on our faces. I really do. Whatever happens, I am glad that I met him.

Maybe he came hoping I will teach him jiu jitsu, but the truth is he taught me a lesson—a lesson in life. I am so grateful for that lesson. He is the teacher and I am the student.

And yes… HE IS MY HERO.

Thank you Afan