On hot summer evenings, after laying in the grass, the mosquito bumps that would soon dot my skin were simply temporary inconveniences. However, for my relatives in Savalou, Benin, where treatment for malaria is not easily accessible, the bumps are presages. In 2021, the United States experienced 602 deaths due to tuberculosis. In Nigeria, in 2021, 125,000 deaths occurred due to tuberculosis. When I see statistical figures, such as the previously mentioned ones, that highlight the great medical inequalities that exist in our world today, I am reminded of a quote by John Green: “The cure is where the disease is not and the disease is where the cure is not.” There is a great, big monster that stands before many communities, impeding on their ability to receive proper treatment. The older I got, the more I realized the necessity of scientific innovation in combating the threat of infectious disease in medically disadvantaged communities, and slaying the monster that threatens many; I saw, and continue to see, science as a solution to the health disparities that exist between my relatives and me. In biology class, the notes and sketches which embellished my notebooks are not simply “boring” lecture notes, rather to me they are beacons of hope. My love for the sciences seemed to have been an innate interest of mine, but my love for it began to intensify as I understood that through engagement in scientific innovation, I would be able to develop and implement life-saving treatment in medically underprivileged communities. More specifically, my passion for the sciences, as well as my love for advocacy and activism blended to birth an interest in global health. Through an education and career centered around Global Health, I would be able to develop public health campaigns that are efficient, culturally mindful, and affordable; I would be able to develop the sort of solutions that would contribute to the fostering of a world in which no one has fear of the mosquito bumps that may emerge on their skin. As of now, I have committed to a university and will be pursuing a major in Human Health. My long-term goal is to pursue an MD-PhD in Global Health and work with non-profit organizations such as the CDC. Through an MD-PhD I will have the necessary knowledge and experience to properly administer medical treatment, as well as partake in collaborative efforts that concern creating successful public health campaigns in medically underprivileged communities. Looking far into the future, close to retirement, I hope to become a professor in a college public health department, so that I may pay it forward by sharing the knowledge and experience I have acquired thanks to my career and the people that I have encountered. My career and academic pursuits will be the sword that slays the monster of disease, death, and inequality once and for all.

My most significant accomplishment occurred in a small, elementary school classroom. The tingling and pressure grew as I rhythmically clapped with the class, reciting the times table in unison. Despite my attempts to suppress it, it grew. Mrs. Munro stood next to me, my little arms in perfect reach of her; I could've easily tapped her elbow and asked to use the restroom. When I permanently moved to the United States in 2012, I spoke mostly Arabic and Fon, my mother tongue. I had enough English vocabulary for simple conversations, but the slight existence of a language barrier exacerbated my reservation in school. Soon, through kindergarten books and numerous lessons with the school librarian, my English improved drastically by the second grade. However, just as I solidified my ability to speak English well, I also solidified the dangerous habit of easily giving up. Afraid to ask, I continued to smack my hands together, clapping along with my peers. The tingling and pressure I was battling transformed into a warm and wet sensation. My once-dried pants now clung to my legs, drenched in pee. I failed to speak and to act. I had remained stationary because I thought of only the worst outcome: I would be told “no” and scolded for disrupting the class. Thus, in my mind, it transformed into the only possible outcome. The scrutinizing gazes of my classmates triumphed over all attempts to subdue the rapid accumulation of tears, and the burning sensation on the surface of my cheeks escalated the longer I stood in my puddle of shame. At that moment, I was mortified and drowning in utter misery. Yet beautifully, in that same instant, a new era in my life ignited. By peeing myself, it finally registered that my habit of approaching life with a defeatist attitude was setting me up for failure. To experience that at such an impressionable age led to my adoption of a new habit: continuous inner faith. Today, that habit and memory gladly continue to cling to me, seizing me when I risk restricting my vocal cords, myself, and my ambitions. My self-growth, thanks to my wet accident, is to me, one of my biggest accomplishments thus far. As I start my first year of college next year, I will be a step closer to achieving my long-held goal of pursuing a career in global health. Practicing continuous inner faith will help me achieve my professional goal, but my burning passion for human biology and health will especially be of tremendous help. My interest in the sciences emerged when I came to understand the root of a very interesting contrast. On summer evenings, after laying in the grass, the mosquito bumps that dotted my skin were simply temporary inconveniences. For my relatives in Benin, the bumps are presages. I understood quickly that in its simplest form, this contrast that existed between me and my relatives, among others, was a direct result of the wrathful infectious diseases that torment people in Benin and many other places at a medical disadvantage. Understanding the root of the contrasts between me and my relatives sparked my interest in human biology, and consequently drew me to the healthcare world. Through a career in global health, I would be able to develop treatments and implement successful public health campaigns to combat the health crises that torment places at a medical disadvantage. My ultimate goal is essentially to contribute to the formation of a sort of world in which no one needs to worry about the mosquito bumps that may dot their skin.