Vi Thanh Nhật

From dreams through hospital windows to rebuilding a hometown

My life began like any other child’s, until fate came knocking early, stealing away the carefree days of youth. At the age of three, I was diagnosed with Thalassemia, a genetic blood disorder. While my friends were out running in the sun, I was growing familiar with the sterile scent of antiseptic, the sting of needles, and the cold numbers on my blood report chart.

For a family already struggling, my illness became another heavy burden. Every month, my mother carried me on her old motorbike, bumping along miles of red dirt roads to the provincial hospital. Each pothole must have torn at her heart, but within her arms I felt boundless love, and a hope that never dimmed.

Through the small hospital window, I would gaze at the world outside and imagine what it felt like to live a “normal” life. There were moments when pain blurred my vision, when exhaustion and despair pressed down so heavily that I could hardly breathe.


Thalassemia felt like an invisible chain, tightening around my dreams. Yet somewhere deep inside, a quiet flame kept burning. I refused to let this illness define me. I longed to live, to learn, to prove that my mind and will could transcend the limits of my body. I was not born merely to survive, I was born to create meaning.


That desire became the fire that pushed me forward.

Through the small hospital window, I would gaze at the world outside and imagine what it felt like to live a “normal” life. There were moments when pain blurred my vision, when exhaustion and despair pressed down so heavily that I could hardly breathe.

Thalassemia felt like an invisible chain, tightening around my dreams. Yet somewhere deep inside, a quiet flame kept burning. I refused to let this illness define me. I longed to live, to learn, to prove that my mind and will could transcend the limits of my body. I was not born merely to survive, I was born to create meaning.

That desire became the fire that pushed me forward.

During my school years, I was often absent due to regular blood transfusions. I only attended about two-thirds of the classes that my peers did. Yet that never stopped me from learning. I made up for the hospital days with sleepless nights spent over my books.

Those efforts eventually bore fruit. I completed high school with excellent results, received numerous awards, and became a student at the British University Vietnam (BUV) with a full scholarship.

It was not merely an acknowledgment of my academic diligence, it was the opening of a new world, one where I could continue writing the dreams I once had to pause.


“If high school gave me wings to dream, then BUV is the hand that holds mine on the journey to make that dream real.”


At BUV, I found myself immersed in a British-standard education that nurtured not only knowledge but also life skills and a sense of purpose toward the community.

It was not merely an acknowledgment of my academic diligence, it was the opening of a new world, one where I could continue writing the dreams I once had to pause.

“If high school gave me wings to dream, then BUV is the hand that holds mine on the journey to make that dream real.”

At BUV, I found myself immersed in a British-standard education that nurtured not only knowledge but also life skills and a sense of purpose toward the community.

One of the most meaningful experiences was Project ‘Vươn’, a volunteer initiative aimed at bringing the light of education to ethnic minority students at Ba Khe Primary and Secondary School in Lào Cai. My goal was to share knowledge, spark curiosity, and help the children shape their future paths.

Despite my fragile health, I have stayed persistent in my studies and now serve as a tutor at the Student Academic Support center, helping fellow students navigate their academic challenges.

BUV has transformed me: from a timid ethnic minority boy unsure of his place into someone confident and grounded in an international environment. I have learned to integrate, to grow, and to give back. As the saying goes, “Carry the fragrance of the forest away, and return with sweet fruits.” BUV has been the gateway that allowed me to step out into the world, gather knowledge and experience, and return home to build my community.

Looking back, every step I have taken has been paid for with sweat and tears. I have learned to rise after every fall, refusing to let pain or exhaustion drown me. I have learned to believe in myself, that even if the body is imperfect, the heart and mind can still create something extraordinary.

I am deeply grateful for the hands that lifted me up and the hearts that warmed me through the coldest days. It is that kindness that compels me to pass on the good I have received.

I still remember what the BUV President once told me: “Live fully so that you can be proud of yourself, and so that the values of the BUV legacy may continue to shine. Wherever life takes you, carry with you the resilience, integrity, and compassion you have found here.”

I may not be a brilliant star, but I believe I can be a candle, one that burns with the flame of resilience and will. Just like the hope my parents placed in my name, Thanh Nhật, which means “pure light”, I will illuminate my own path and live a life that is full and meaningful.

At twenty, with dreams and ambitions still unfolding, I carry within me the strength of someone who has weathered hardship, gratitude for those who have stood by me, and unshakable faith in the power of human will.

To anyone facing difficulty, this is what I want to say: never give up.

Life may bring unimaginable trials, but within them lies the hidden strength waiting to rise. If I cannot run, I will walk. If I cannot walk, I will crawl. And if I cannot crawl, I will drag myself forward, because as long as I am still moving, it means I am still alive.

And that, to me, is what it means to be Lionhearted: to keep the fire alive even when the world grows dark.