I was fifteen when my understanding of life and health changed forever. I used to share a bedroom with my maternal grandmother, and she was my sense of stability and comfort. One day I left for a sleepover at my cousin’s house. When I returned the next morning, I found her unconscious. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. At that age, I could not fully understand what the disease meant, but I could see something much clearer, there were not enough resources, support systems, or access to proper care to help her recover.
That experience marked the beginning of a long, painful journey. Years later, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and eventually passed away as well. Losing both of them within a relatively short span of time shaped me in ways I am still learning to process. In both cases, I saw how limited healthcare resources, especially in rural and underserved areas of Botswana, can determine outcomes long before a patient ever gets a fair chance.
After these losses, I initially tried to distance myself from healthcare. I enrolled in mechanical engineering, believing that stepping away from health-related fields would protect me from reliving that pain. But over time, I realized that healthcare is not something you can simply avoid when it has shaped your life so deeply. It felt less like a choice and more like a calling I could not ignore. I eventually made the difficult decision to leave engineering and pursue a Bachelor’s degree in Physiotherapy instead.
Through physiotherapy, I began to understand healthcare from a more human perspective. I saw how recovery is not only about treatment but also about access, timing, and systems that either support or fail patients. Over the past 15 years since my grandmother’s passing and 12 years since my mother’s, I have come to recognize a consistent issue: in Botswana and many other landlocked, resource-constrained countries, healthcare outcomes are heavily influenced by supply chain limitations, delayed access to care, and systemic inefficiencies.
The situation, especially after COVID-19, has highlighted how fragile global and local healthcare systems can be. In 2024, instead of losing hope, I made a deliberate decision to take a different path. I began an MBA in Global Supply Chain Management, not only to advance my education, but to position myself to contribute to real, structural solutions in healthcare delivery. My goal is to help strengthen healthcare supply chains in low-income and landlocked countries, where delays and shortages often cost lives.
Looking ahead, I intend to pursue a PhD in Health Services and Policy Research, with a focus on supply chain stability and resilience in vulnerable healthcare systems. I want my research to translate into practical policies that governments and institutions can use to improve access to essential medicines and services.
More than anything, I want my journey to mean something beyond myself. I have found purpose in turning personal loss into long-term impact. Scholarships like this represent more than financial support, they represent the possibility of transforming lived experience into service that can reach others who are still waiting for the care my loved ones never fully received.
One group of people who continue to inspire me deeply are individuals living with disabilities. Despite systemic barriers, they continue to push forward, achieve, and redefine what is possible. Their resilience reminds me that limitations don’t define potential.
My goal is to contribute to a world where access to healthcare is not determined by geography, income, or circumstance, but is a basic reality for all. I hope to use my education to help build that future.