It started on a Saturday afternoon, watching cartoons with his kids.
Kash Raju saw a ray of colours in front of his eyes. He closed them. The colours were still there.
He went upstairs, lay down and did what most of us would do. He Googled it. The search said ocular migraine. A migraine followed, and the same thing happened two or three more times over the next few days.
By August he had been told he had grade 4 brain cancer. He was 33, a husband and a father of three.
Naroop spoke to Kash and his father, Dr Amo Raju OBE, on an Instagram Live. Amo has been a guest on the podcast before. This time he was there as Kash's dad.
The brain cancer symptoms he put down to stress
Around May or June, Kash noticed he was slowing down. He was a regular at the gym and the workouts weren't the same. He was walking the kids to school and back more slowly than he used to. There was some slight double vision.
He had also just started a new job as a software testing manager, so he had an explanation ready. You're just stressed, he told himself. You're overworked. Don't worry.
He isn't someone who goes to the GP often, but after the colours and the migraines he went. He was told it was probably his eyesight. The optician checked behind his eyes and found nothing wrong.
He went back to the GP. It was the stretch of summer when temperatures hit 35 degrees, and he was told he was most likely dehydrated. He was drinking three to four litres of water a day.
"You know that feeling when you speak to someone and you're not getting through."
So he carried on working. Within a couple of weeks he was wobbling as he walked through the office. He was still driving. He would force himself to the gym, manage a minute on the treadmill and have to stop.
"That's not me," he said.
On a Thursday afternoon at two o'clock he ended his working day and asked to be dropped at A&E.
Three weeks before anyone said the word cancer
A CT scan on 30 July showed a large growth. An MRI followed the next day. A week later, after the hospital's multidisciplinary team had met, he was told it was a large tumour.
Kash says it was around three weeks before anyone used the word cancer. Other patients have told him the same, and so have the brain tumour charities he has spoken to.
"It does scare people," he said. "But it's real."
He knew plenty about breast cancer, he said, because it is talked about everywhere, and rightly so. About brain cancer he didn't have a clue.
"All I could see was a little six-year-old Kash"
Amo was in the room for the diagnosis. Kash's wife, Manjit, sat on his left. Kash sat on his right.
The consultant began by asking how many small children Kash had. Amo remembers wondering where the question was going. Then the consultant said it would be a difficult conversation, and the words came: terminal, grade 4, a prognosis of 12 to 14 months.
Manjit was in tears. Amo turned to look at his son.
"He's a big strapping lad, but all I could see was a little six-year-old Kash."
He interrupted the doctor. There must be something else, he said. Tell us what other treatments there are.
It still happens. At Kash's birthday, with the family gathered round the cake, Amo looked across and saw the six-year-old again. He had to steady himself.
"All I want is my little boy to get better."
Amo has spent his working life campaigning for disabled people's rights. None of it prepared him for this. Nobody in the family had ever had cancer.
"I wake up each morning thinking it's a bad dream," he said. On the day of the Live he had been awake since three in the morning, searching for treatments on ChatGPT. He says it happens most nights. Have we missed something? Have I missed something?
"As a father you want to protect your children, whether they're young or old."
"Whether that means 12 days or 120 years"
When the prognosis was read out, the first thing Kash wanted to do was go home and cuddle his kids. So he did.
Then the maths started. How old will I be? How old will the kids be? Will my wife be okay?
He caught himself. He could see where that thinking led and he decided not to follow it.
Kash doesn't put much weight on a prognosis. He believes the number of days he has is in God's hands, and he says he is at peace with whatever that number is.
"Whether that means 12 days or 120 years, I don't know."
Naroop asked where that calm comes from. Kash traced it back to his grandfather, a deeply religious man who met every hard time in the family with stories from their faith about the sacrifices people had made before them. Next to those stories, their own problems looked smaller. His grandfather passed that on to Amo, and Amo passed it on to Kash.
The morning after brain surgery, his dad stood at the hospital bed and told him: "Don't worry son, everything's going to be okay. Keep strong."
Later, Kash held both his parents' hands. He is a father himself now, and the first people he thought of when he heard the news were his own children. He knows what his mum and dad are carrying.
"I wish I could take the pain from them."
The father wants to protect his son. The son wants to protect his father.
What a day looks like now
At the time of the Live, Kash was on session 13 of 30 of chemotherapy and radiotherapy. He was starting to feel it more that week, and he has been open with his family about that.
He still goes for his walks. He still comes downstairs to pray and meditate. He has a pair of 5kg kettlebells at home and still does what he can.
"It's nowhere near what it was," he said. "But it could be way worse."
He used to think in five-year and ten-year plans. He was always business-focused. Providing for the family still matters to him, but it has moved down the list.
"I can't wait to wake up in the morning and just cuddle my kids."
He asks them how their day was a bit more than he used to. He thinks about tomorrow's work a bit less.
£164,000 in seven days
A week before the Live, the family launched a fundraiser. The target was £200,000, their estimate of what treatment outside the NHS will cost. One of the places they have shortlisted is India.
They thought it would take a month, maybe two.
Seven days in, more than 3,000 people had given £164,000.
"We're a little gobsmacked," Amo said. Kash had a word for it: sangat. Community. People coming together.
Amo is grateful, and he is angry too. Brain tumours kill more children and adults under 40 than any other cancer in the UK. According to Brain Tumour Research, they have received around 1% of national cancer research spending. Amo has been a campaigner all his life and he didn't know that until his son was diagnosed.
"We're the country that came up with a vaccine at an alarmingly fast rate during COVID," he said. "So when we want to, we can get there."
His message to the people who set health budgets was blunt. Don't wait until you are sitting where he is sitting.
"Every life is precious."
Kash has said that any money left over after his treatment will go towards helping other people in the same position.
Why a private man went public
People in Derby know Kash as a quiet, private person. The morning after his surgery he told his family he felt called to speak about this.
"I'm your typical bloke," he said. "Early to mid 30s. Work, gym, the rat race."
He looked after himself and it still happened to him. If it happened to him, he says, it is happening to other men who are telling themselves they're just tired, or stressed, or dehydrated.
People keep telling his children to be careful around their dad. Not too loud. Kash has told them the opposite.
He wants the noise.
Support Kash
Kash's fundraiser is here: www.gofundme.com/f/standing-with-kash-for-brain-cancer
You can follow him on Instagram at @kashraju_ and his father at @amorajuofficial.
You can watch Dr Amo Raju OBE's own episode of The Dad Project is here
If any of the symptoms in this story sound familiar, speak to your GP. The NHS has a guide to brain tumour symptoms.
Key takeaways
- Kash's first signs were slowing down, slight double vision, and flashes of colour followed by migraines. He put them down to stress and a new job.
- He saw a GP twice and an optician once before he took himself to A&E. If something feels wrong and you're not being heard, go back.
- Brain tumours kill more children and adults under 40 than any other cancer in the UK, and get around 1% of national cancer research spending.
- More than 3,000 people gave £164,000 in seven days towards Kash's treatment outside the NHS.
- A parent's instinct to protect doesn't switch off when the child is 33 with children of his own.
- Since the diagnosis Kash has stopped planning five years ahead. Mornings with his kids come first.
Frequently asked questions
Who is Kash Raju?
Kash Raju is a 33-year-old husband and father of three from Derby. He was diagnosed with grade 4 brain cancer in August and has been sharing what it is like on Instagram at @kashraju_. His father is the disability rights campaigner Dr Amo Raju OBE.
What were Kash Raju's first symptoms of brain cancer?
He noticed he was slowing down in the gym and on the school run, and had slight double vision. Then he saw flashes of colour that stayed when he closed his eyes, followed by migraines. Later he became unsteady on his feet and could only manage a minute on a treadmill.
What is grade 4 brain cancer?
Brain tumours are graded from 1 to 4 by how quickly they grow and how likely they are to spread. Grade 4 is the highest grade and the fastest growing. Kash was given a prognosis of 12 to 14 months.
Are brain tumours the biggest cancer killer of under 40s?
Yes. Brain tumours kill more children and adults under 40 in the UK than any other cancer. The charity Brain Tumour Research says they have received around 1% of national cancer research spending.
What are the symptoms of a brain tumour?
The NHS lists headaches, seizures, feeling or being sick, changes in vision or speech, changes in memory or personality, and weakness on one side of the body. Most people with these symptoms won't have a brain tumour, but see a GP if they don't go away. If you still feel something is wrong, go back.
Why is Kash Raju fundraising?
His family estimate that treatment outside the NHS will cost up to £200,000. The fundraiser reached £164,000 from more than 3,000 donors in its first seven days. Kash has said any money left over will be used to help others with brain cancer.
How can I support Kash Raju?
You can donate to his fundraiser, follow @kashraju_ on Instagram, and share his story so more people recognise the signs.
