My father was born poor in the countryside. 

​

He moved to the city to run away from the memory of hunger that had plagued him since he was young. Although he was never able to attain a higher education degree he was determined that the lives of his family would be different and they would never experience hunger as he had. 

​

In spite of all his efforts, tragedy struck again. This time, it was related to my birth. My Father stayed up all night to take care of his wife who was suffering from gestational diabetes which almost led to the loss of her eyesight and paralysis of her hands. Without a wink of sleep, he left at 4am again to earn 80 dollars for a full day of manual labor to ensure he had food for his wife, my older brother and I to eat. To this day, my mother tells me, he was never frustrated. 

​

When I grew older, l remember my parents conversing each night when we laid down to sleep. It wasn’t a pretty conversation but dosed with stories of manual workers who lived from hand to mouth, my Father being one of them. These workers struggled constantly with worries about whether they would get paid the next day or whether an injury would prevent them from putting food on the tables of their family.

​

Eventually, the day came, the day I saw my father shed tears for the first time. His friend lost an eye due to cataracts because he wasn’t able to afford the 200 dollars required for a 10 minute operation. With that lost eye, the friend laughed it off and went to work thinking it was fate, after all he still had to put food on the table.

​

Poverty makes the most simple diseases seem incurable. It makes the poor believe that it’s fate and they must accept the consequences. But, I don’t believe in that fate and I believe all people deserve better than that. My Father tearfully implored me to become a person who helps those in need, but he didn’t need to convince me. After witnessing this incident I swore to myself that although I may not be able to eradicate their poverty completely, I would provide hope for those that are less fortunate. 

​

At first, I wasn’t sure what direction I would take to provide this hope and help, but as I grew older, I realised I had an affinity for sciences, especially biology. Towards the end of High School, I became fascinated by the life changing impact artificial organs can have for those that cannot afford ordinary donor organs and consequently that became my life's goal. 

​

While chasing this dream, the responsibility I have as a person who has had a front row seat in watching the lives of poor people is very evident to me. This has led me to participate in every research project, even a collaboration with university student’s while I was in high school, so that I could gain relevant experience as a researcher. I worked doubly hard to gain and keep scholarships because I knew the money my mother gave me for my admission fee was an opportunity cost for her diabetes treatment. Staying in the library until 2 am did not faze me as I knew it was nothing in comparison to my parent’s sacrifices. And the sacrifices of other parents that bore a similar experience to them.  

 

My Father’s initial promise when he left the countryside still stands, I’ve never been hungry and luckily I’ve never been sick like my mother. But I can see how the tragedy of achieving that promise still marks their lives and those around them. I see my dad’s friend still working hard for his family with one eye lost. This is why my purpose is to bring hope back, even if it’s in one aspect of their lives. I choose all of them.