Grandma was my rock - no family should have to go through what mine did

Back in 2015, while living and working in Dubai, I did what millions of others were doing: I poured a bucket of freezing cold water over my head for the Ice Bucket Challenge. It was a viral campaign to raise awareness of Motor Neurone Disease (MND), and at the time, I thought it was a fun, worthy gesture. Little did I know just how personal that campaign would become.

Shortly after filming my video, I received a message from my sisters back in the UK. They'd visited our Grandma Grace Mbengeranwa and were alarmed by how much weight she'd lost. She was struggling to walk, and something didn't seem right. I hadn't seen her for a while - living thousands of miles away meant our visits were all too rare - and suddenly I was filled with dread.

Grandma Grace was my rock. She had shaped me more than anyone except my mother. Born in Zimbabwe, she left everything behind to train as a midwife in England, eventually moving to Denmark in the 1960s, where she answered a national call for nurses.

She didn't speak Danish when she arrived and was the only Black woman in the town of Aarhus. Despite that, she carved out a life with strength, courage and sheer determination - helping women give birth, even while enduring racism and resistance from some of the very people she was caring for.

Eventually she became fluent in Danish and, by the time I came along, she was teaching me about Norse mythology, Scandinavian culture and the power of language. For my eighth birthday, she bought me an English-Danish dictionary and told me I could only text her in Danish - her way of teaching me something new.

She introduced me to opera, art and world cuisine. She gave me books from her personal library and quizzed me on them afterwards. Her influence was deep, profound, and enduring. She was strong, kind, cultured, and endlessly curious.

So when she was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease, the very illness I had unknowingly soaked myself in ice water to raise awareness for, I felt utterly powerless.

And I quickly learned how cruel it was. The average life expectancy from diagnosis is two to three years. The disease robs a patient of their ability to walk, talk, eat, and breathe - while leaving the mind painfully intact. It's a brutal, unforgiving illness.

At first, things weren't too bad. She still had her sharpness, her humour, her ability to enjoy a glass of wine and have good conversation. But slowly, with every visit, she got weaker. Holding a cup became difficult. Getting into bed was suddenly too risky without help. Eating became dangerous, swallowing a choking hazard. Her body was shutting down while her mind remained vivid.

Eighteen months after her diagnosis, my brilliant Grandma Grace was still there in spirit - in her eyes and her smile - but physically, she was gone. She couldn't speak. She needed a ventilator to breathe. Around-the-clock care kept her alive, but the cruelty of it all made me feel helpless. How could something this devastating exist without a cure?

I reached out to the Motor Neurone Disease Association (MNDA) and offered to help. By a strange twist of fate, Lucozade contacted me with a last-minute place in the 2017 London Marathon. With just ten weeks to prepare, I signed up, determined to raise as much money as possible for MNDA.

Grandma Grace passed away shortly after that. When she was cremated she was wearing my marathon medal. She died as she lived - with quiet bravery, dignity, and grace, even when those around her were scared.

Since then, I've continued working with the MNDA, speaking at events and helping raise funds. Eventually, they made me an ambassador - something I think Grandma Grace would've been proud of. So today, I want to write about a special campaign.

The MNDA has teamed up with Omaze to offer the chance of winning a £4million beachfront house in Sussex - plus £250,000 in cash. It's part of the Omaze Sussex House Draw, and it closes at midnight on Sunday.

But this isn't just about a prize. Every entry helps MNDA support those currently battling MND, campaign for better access to care, and fund research that might one day lead to a cure. This disease is cruel - but we don't have to be helpless.

Every penny raised brings us closer to ending the misery of MND. And every step we take honours people like Grandma Grace - who taught me so much about life, and so much about strength in the face of suffering.

Because no family should ever have to go through what mine did. And no one should ever have to fight this disease alone.