Health Science Reviews

by Siyabonga Msipa

Back in my undergrad days, I used to stress a lot about not feeling “good enough.” If I didn’t get a good mark on a test or exam, I would think I wasn’t smart enough. If I took a break, I’d feel guilty for slacking off and not being disciplined enough. The fact that I didn’t get into a program I applied for, both in undergrad and postgrad, made me feel like I wasn’t talented enough or worthy enough to be in those programs. Ultimately, I felt as if life was not going the way I had planned.

For the longest time I have let my failures and any setback I faced in life define my self-worth. But I realized that fixating on my failures in comparison to the success I should have experienced only served to undermine my confidence and led me to setting unrealistic standards for myself which further contributed to the pressure and anxiety I already had. In addition to this I was also too afraid of failing and as a result of this fear I held back from grabbing opportunities that came up. This battle between pushing myself while still being afraid became so overwhelming until I finally realized that I needed to make a change.

In the ongoing battle between pushing myself and the fear of failure, I have come to appreciate the delicate balance between ambition and self-care. It’s not about eradicating fear but understanding it, learning from it, and using it as a source of motivation. I learned not to define my self-worth by my ability to meet certain goals or achievements.  I’m more determined not to chase my goals just to prove something to myself or to others.

Getting a lower grade on an exam doesn’t mean I’m not smart; it means I can learn and improve where I need to. The rejection from those programs? It stung; I am honestly not going to lie. But now, I like to see it as a plot twist rather than the climax of my story. It pushed me to explore other paths, discover new interests that I had not known, and ultimately, it helped me grow. Each rejection and disappointment I had to face was, in fact, an opportunity for learning, growing and refining my resilience.

The fear of failure turned into a catalyst for action. I am learning that success often emerges from the willingness to step into the unknown, to confront challenges head-on, and to use each experience—whether positive or negative—as a stepping stone toward true personal growth. Throughout this year, I also discovered the strength in vulnerability. Sharing and acknowledging my fears with other people around me created a supportive community for me. I began to understand that everyone encounters moments of self-doubt, and this helped me to feel less alone and more connected to others.

I am now learning to be kinder to myself, by acknowledging that failure is a possibility, I am preparing myself mentally and emotionally to handle the challenges along the way. Life’s unpredictability is what makes it beautiful, and my worth is not reliant on a checklist of achievements. I am rewriting my narrative, one that acknowledges the resilience within, embraces the unknown, and values the journey as much as the destination.

by Jami Maclean

Honours!!! This year has been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Taking the academic route is one that takes strength and a lot of resilience.

Doing honours in Applied Anatomy started off very shaky from facing difficulties with registration, to starting our technique block WEEKS before our other peers. The combination of coursework, exams, presentations and research seemed insurmountable.

I don’t think anyone prepared me for the ride this year was going to be. There were times when we were smooth sailing and times where we were at the cliff ready to fall off. This year has taught me how to manage my time better, how to speak up for myself, and most importantly how to read scientifically (never thought that there was a difference, but you learn something new every day). 

It has been a year of battle scars and surviving but during the ride, I made lifelong friends. Friends that made me less afraid of the journey. Friends that stood by me when imposter syndrome started to kick in. Friends that supported me throughout my modules and presentations, which for me is equivalent to being at the top of the rollercoaster about to dive into the scariest fall ever.

At the end of the rollercoaster, you’ve lost your hat, your hair is a mess, your voice is gone, but you still made it.

by Nokhanya Sangweni

I really think the theme of my honours year has been nothing short of God’s work in growing me as an individual within all aspects of my life.  Firstly, I began this year with very high expectations, little did I know what it required from me… I wish I was warned…

We started off with a General Techniques course, which at the time I did not know would be very beneficial for me, in improving my lab skills for my research project. Thereafter we had a HECTIC 12 weeks of exams and modules. I found myself spending A LOT of time in the study room in an attempt to understand Immunology (in the end I did understand it : ) I had the shortest break ever and straight after that I started my lab work. I was welcomed by a wonderful group – the Mucosal Infections Group (MIG) group. In which I encountered some of the best people who made coming to the lab something I looked forward to!

Upon doing my lab work I faced hurdles in between… there were days where I came into the lab to find that my cultures did not grow and even worse days when my broth was contaminated. Nevertheless, I learnt to move on and start afresh. Looking back, I can proudly say that these hurdles, equipped me into becoming a better individual within the lab space. With the help of my supervisors of course.

I have to admit though, obtaining this degree became MORE and MORE difficult towards the end… nothing can amount to how hard it was to go to the lab during the weekend and not having enough sleep.

It was quite difficult BUT despite all this… with the support from friends and family GOD DID (oh yes, He did). In all that I did…GOD DID! I am so grateful for this journey and the lessons I took from it!

by Lilitha Cengani

In the dimly lit corners of my mind lies a weathered time worn crate. Its battered exterior tells a story of its own, one of adversity yet despite this it is a crate I continue to carry with me. You see, this crate was not designed to merely carry possessions but the weight of my doubt, my memories, and my dreams. Taking the leap of pursuing my Honours at UCT and entering the world of science has not only compelled me to stand before it, but rummage through the treasures buried inside it.

Just like the vibrancy of summer, the year blossomed with the welcoming warmth of my conveners and several neuroscientists eager to share their knowledge and willingness to address the burden of many diseases. MRI, EEG, immunohistochemistry, patch clamp experiments and my very first research project all felt like a guide to my childhood memory of wanting to become a scientist and explore the wonders of the human mind, but like many, my honours journey was not without its shadows.

As the year progressed, realities surrounding a researcher became more apparent. Long buried moments of doubt buried within the crate began to resurface. Days turned into hours spent behind a brightly lit screen poring over research articles and relying on two-hour naps, much like clear skies of summer shifted into looming clouds. I found myself in crossroads thinking of whether to continue to rummage or shove the precarious pile of my aspirations, dreams and doubts back into the crate and leave it behind. 

Every encounter this year made me realise despite the thought, I had to bear the weight of these treasures and it was a weight I could not carry on my own. The support of my friends, family and my supervisors gave me the support and motivation I needed to continue. The science I found went beyond lab experiments and data visualisation, but more making research making a tangible impact. Among the handful of cherished memories, doubt, dreams, and aspirations I’ve carried with me, this year, in these final moments, with my brain admittedly fried, stands as one I will carry with me.

by Kamva Dukada 

At the start of my postgraduate honours journey, I expected a year primarily focused on academics. However, what unfolded surpassed my academic expectations; it turned into a melody of personal and intellectual highs. Now, as I approach the end, I find myself immersed in the harmonies of a truly metamorphic experience.

Transitioning from medicine into a research-intensive environment brought forth a blend of apprehension and excitement. While my undergrad provided foundational knowledge, it did not fully expose me to the intricacies of working in the lab, collaborating with colleagues, and the relentless pursuit of protocol optimisation. Little did I anticipate that this shift would not only broaden my understanding but also become the trigger for a profound evolution in my approach to learning and problem-solving.

Going through this unexplored territory wasn’t just about building my lab skills. It was also about bonding with seasoned scientists and peers who shared the curiosity and like for science that drove them here. We were all in on this quest for answers, and suddenly, asking questions and tossing around ideas became the norm. I learned that teamwork is not just a buzzword; it is where the real magic happens.

The repetitive nature of tweaking protocols over and over was like a never-ending dance, but it turned into this determined quest to master the game. Every hiccup was not a roadblock; it was a chance to get better, sharpening my thinking and fuelling my stubborn resolve to solve problems. What seemed scary at first became this crazy source of motivation, especially when experiments began yielding substantial and transformative outcomes, marking pivotal milestones in my academic trajectory.

The composition of my thesis was not just a scholarly artifact but a testament to my intellectual journey. The late-night sessions spent reading articles, refining arguments, the challenging development of hypotheses, and the victorious moments upon breakthroughs all resonate with the story of a year committed to pushing intellectual boundaries.

Looking back on this ride, that initial nervousness has transformed into a wild appreciation for the unpredictability of research. It is not just about learning more; it’s about diving headfirst into discovery mode. The nerve-racking and heart-pounding moments of this adventure? They’re part of a story that’s changing how I see my scientific world, and I’m all in for the next chapter.

by Angel Munyurangabo

At the beginning of the year, I was filled with mixed emotions. I was excited and nervous at the same time. I was stepping into a new environment. I missed my friends from my previous university and the familiarity of that setting. As time went by, I gradually settled into my new surroundings. One of the significant aspects of the year has been the people I met and the friendships I have made.

Academically, I made choices that aligned with my interests and passions. I enjoyed all the modules I chose. But each of them came with their own challenges. I began this year with no intention of pursuing a master’s degree. This was changed by the intriguing topics I learnt about in my modules and through the experience of working on my honours project. This year has been a difficult, yet great year.  

by Katie Watt

In his book “Solve for Happy”, Mo Gawdat proposes that “happiness is greater than or equal to your perception of the events in your life minus your expectation of how life should be”.

I first heard about the Intercalated Honours degree in my first year of medicine. As a competitive individual, a specialised program for the top students, sounded highly intriguing. I applied for the program and in 2022, I started the Molecular Medicine course on top of Third Year Medicine. I internalised much of the messaging I received about the program – that it would set me apart from my peers and make me a competitive candidate for specialising one day, and that I should aim to be a clinician-scientist to make a real difference in the lives of patients. I had no idea whether research appealed to me or not, because I had not been exposed to it, but I was curious.

The greatest challenge this year has presented is that the reality of Honours did not align with my expectations. I found the first half of the year under-whelming – I did not feel very stimulated nor challenged by the modules. I was excited to make new friends but, while all the students in my stream were lovely, I felt like an outsider as an intercalated student. I felt that the students coming from a BSc background largely did not understand why we, the intercalated students, had joined their class and comments such as “it doesn’t matter what project you get, this is just a year off for you” stung.

In medicine, I adapted to being extremely busy and working incredibly hard, so was strange to go slower this year. Luckily, I was heading up SHAWCO Women’s Health this year so that filled up some of my free time and gave me the sense of fulfilment I felt I was lacking this year. I desperately missed clinical work and while SHAWCO clinics enabled me to practise my clinical skills, I longed for the life I had left behind this year, the one my friends in fourth year were living.

Despite finding this year difficult in many ways, it challenged me to think critically about my life and my purpose and I am grateful for that. The quieter year has allowed me to dedicate lots of time and energy to SHAWCO patients which has been very special, as well as to non-work-related aspects of my life.

I was very lucky to have two incredible supervisors this year. I was inspired by their passion for TB research despite discovering that I do not want to go into research, myself. I am deeply grateful for the many hours of help they gave me. I do feel that I have gained an appreciation for the complexities of research especially through the data analysis work I have done for my project.

If I could go back to last year, I would have advised the past version of myself not to leave the degree I loved, but perhaps then I would never have known that research is not my passion and that I can be an amazing doctor even if I do not become a scientist too. But I have developed compassion for the person I was then, the person who did not know if research was for her, and the person who was curious and courageous and jumped head-first into an opportunity.

While this year was not what I expected, I am certain that I will take much away from it such as a newfound gratitude for the MBChB degree and insights into my purpose. I felt somewhat bothered with my lacklustre passion for research because I know that research can have such a profound impact on the health and well-being of so many people, but I have now come to appreciate that I can make a difference in my own way, at an individual level by treating patients with respect and dignity and giving them the best care possible.