Engaged Citizenship

The Engaged Citizenship portfolio within the Centre for the Advancement of Social Impact and Transformation (CASIT) advances a culture of active, responsible citizenship among students, staff, and community partners. It promotes meaningful participation in society through volunteerism, civic engagement, and socially responsive initiatives that address real-world challenges. By fostering critical reflection, ethical leadership, and reciprocal partnerships, the portfolio contributes to developing graduates and stakeholders who are committed to social justice, inclusivity, and sustainable impact.

At Stellenbosch University, young people are not waiting for the future to arrive – they are actively shaping it.

Through innovation, leadership, research, entrepreneurship and community engagement, our students are making a difference today while preparing for tomorrow. Their stories show that when talent is nurtured and opportunity is created, meaningful impact follows.

Follow our annual Youth Month series to see how our students are shaping the future – today and together.

Follow our 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 to see how our students are shaping the future – today and together. 💫 https://www.su.ac.za/en/youth-month 

Hannah Sieberhagen turns ideas into communities

For much of her childhood, Hannah Sieberhagen lived a life that few students at Stellenbosch University (SU) can relate to. Born in South Africa to South African parents, she spent her early years moving between countries as her missionary parents served in Central Asia. By the time she returned to South Africa at the age of nine, she had already experienced more cultural transitions and uncertainty than many people encounter in a lifetime.

“My parents took me to Uzbekistan when I was three months old,” she says. “I grew up in different countries in Central Asia and spent some time in the United States as well.”

The experience left her with an American accent that still prompts questions today. At times, it has made her feel like an outsider, but mostly people think it’s cool, she laughs. Yet, those years also taught her something invaluable. “Cross-culturally, I really don’t struggle as much as others because I’m used to adapting to different cultural settings. My childhood experiences have also taught me how to deal with uncertainty.”

Now a third-year BA Humanities student majoring in French and psychology, Sieberhagen is someone who seems instinctively drawn towards connection. She chose SU partly because she wanted to experience life beyond her hometown of Gqeberha, but also because she was attracted by something less tangible. “I felt Stellenbosch stood out in terms of the community it created and the opportunities to connect and have life outside of academics.”

She found exactly that in Harmonie residence. “It’s a place where you can connect, learn new things and have a safe space to make friends.”

Building bridges through action

If there is one phrase that captures Sieberhagen’s approach to life, it is her personal motto: “Why not me?” It is a philosophy that has shaped much of her leadership journey.

As Social Impact House Committee member at Harmonie, she became increasingly aware of the financial pressures facing many students and the growing conversations around inequality on campus. Rather than simply discussing the issue, she wanted to find a practical way to help.

The result was the popular Dunk a Prim campaign. The concept was deceptively simple. Student leaders from residences and commuter communities would pour water over their primarias and nominate other student communities to do the same, while encouraging donations to the #Move4Food initiative, which supports students experiencing food insecurity.

What began as a single social media challenge quickly spread across campus. Residences, commuter communities, societies, cluster conveners and student leaders joined in. By the end of the campaign, more than 1 500 food items had been donated, helping support hundreds of students through food parcels. For Sieberhagen, the campaign’s greatest success extended beyond the donations themselves. “It was a way for student leaders to say they see students who are affected by barriers to education.”

That desire to bring people together around a common purpose also extends beyond campus fundraising. She has helped coordinate tutoring initiatives at Aitsa Aftercare Centre in Kylemore, where Harmonie residents support learners from less privileged backgrounds. She has also organised outreach activities with residents of the Utopia Home for the Aged, helping students build meaningful relationships across generations.

Underlying all these projects is a belief that community is built intentionally. “If you see a need, don’t expect others to fix it,” she says. “Pull up your sleeves and get involved.”

Creating places where people belong

Perhaps the clearest example of that philosophy emerged when Sieberhagen noticed a gap on campus. As a first-year French student, she became frustrated by how difficult it was for students learning French to connect with other French speakers and exchange students.

Instead of accepting the situation, she decided to start a French Society. The process was far from easy. Sieberhagen and two friends worked around the clock to draft a constitution, recruit members and establish an executive committee.

What motivated her was the belief that students needed a space where they could connect around a shared passion. “It was very important to me that it wasn’t only for people taking French as a subject,” she explains. “I wanted anyone with an interest in French to feel welcome.” Today, the French Society continues to thrive.

For Sieberhagen, moments when students tell her they’ve found friendship, belonging and community make every obstacle worthwhile.

As South Africa marks the 50th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, she believes young people still have an important role to play in confronting injustice and shaping society. “If I see a problem, I want to do something about it, no matter what the risk,” she says.

It is a philosophy rooted in faith, strengthened through experience and visible in everything she does. Underpinning much of Sieberhagen’s approach to leadership is her Christian faith. She says her belief in Jesus has shaped the way she thinks about community, compassion and service to others. Growing up in missionary communities and witnessing the positive impact that faith-based networks can have on people’s lives, reinforced her conviction that people flourish when they feel connected, supported and valued.

Beyond her studies and community work, Sieberhagen fills her time with photography, dancing, singing, hiking and travel. “One of the biggest struggles I have is that there are so many things I want to do and be a part of, but there’s just not enough time for everything,” she laughs.

Whether she is organising a campus-wide fundraising campaign, building a cultural society or mentoring others through social impact projects, Sieberhagen keeps returning to the same idea: Communities become stronger when people choose to create spaces where others can belong.

Keenen Gilbert turns compassion into action at SU

Keenen Gilbert likes to joke that his blood is maroon and gold. After nine years at Stellenbosch University (SU), four degrees and countless leadership roles, there may be some truth in the joke.

Gilbert’s affection for SU is about far more than institutional pride. For him, the University became a place where a curious boy from Johannesburg discovered that helping people does not require a medical degree, wealth or influence. It simply requires a willingness to serve.

Today, the PhD candidate in physiological sciences is one of the most recognisable student leaders on campus. Whether he is organising food drives, tutoring struggling students, raising funds for those in need or helping shape student development programmes, Gilbert has spent much of his university career asking one simple question: How can I help?

A scientist with a servant’s heart

Gilbert grew up in Edenvale, east of Johannesburg, in a family that valued education, compassion and community service. “My parents always taught us that even with the little you have, you can still give within your means,” he explains. “We’re not wealthy people, but we always made time to help others.”

As a child, he was fascinated by science. His bedroom was filled with crystal-growing kits, microscopes, ant farms and experiment sets. Inspired partly by years of watching Grey’s Anatomy, he initially dreamed of becoming a doctor.

But university broadened his horizons. “Going through university and finding myself, I realised I don’t really want to be a doctor,” he says. “There are other ways to help people.” That realisation eventually led him to the Muscle Research Group in the Faculty of Science, where he is now completing a PhD investigating how muscle stem cells repair and regenerate damaged tissue.

While the science remains a strong impetus, Gilbert increasingly found himself drawn to another passion: people. “SU gave me opportunities to put service more to the forefront,” he explains. “It showed me that you don’t need to do things alone. There are like-minded people who share the same passion and want to make a difference.”

His approach is deeply human-centred. “At the end of the day, yes, your studies are important. But being kind, being compassionate, being empathetic and helping others is more important.”

Food, dignity and community

If there is one thread connecting Gilbert’s many leadership roles, it is food. Over the years, he has organised sandwich drives, food collections, fundraising campaigns and community feeding initiatives. Through collaborations with organisations such as Ladles of Love, ShareBite and the Tygerberg Pantry Project, he has helped raise thousands of rands worth of food and essential supplies for vulnerable communities and food-insecure students.

For Gilbert food represents far more than nutrition. “Food is not just sustenance,” he insists. “In my culture, in my community, food is a spiritual experience. It’s community, it’s love, it’s everything.”

As a student leader, tutor, Golden Key executive member and participant in the Listen, Live and Learn (LLL) programme, he repeatedly sought opportunities to create spaces where students felt supported, valued and connected.

One of his proudest contributions came through LLL, where his residence community embraced the United Nations Sustainable Development Goal of Zero Hunger. Together they raised more than half a tonne of food and packed over 100 hampers for students facing food insecurity during the assessment period and holiday season.

For Gilbert, leadership has never been about titles. “You’re there to serve,” he says simply. “You’re there to represent people’s needs.”

Growing through community

While Gilbert has become a familiar face in leadership circles, he is quick to credit the University community for helping him flourish. From Simonsberg Residence and student societies to academic departments and student support services, he speaks warmly about the people who shaped his experience. “I found community here,” he smiles. “I found my friends. I found opportunities. It’s built me as a person.”

He is particularly passionate about encouraging students to make use of the University’s support structures, including academic counselling, Campus Health Service and the Centre for Student Counselling and Development. “There are all these things there to support you. You just need to reach out.”

His own leadership journey taught him important lessons about balance and resilience. “The biggest lesson is learning to say no,” he admits. “You can’t be everywhere all at once.” He also believes in the power of planning. “Outlook Calendar is your best friend. My academic schedule, social events, even my family gatherings go into my Outlook calendar. If it isn’t there, it’s not happening!” he jokes.

Gilbert often speaks about how the rewards outweigh the challenges of being an active student leader. “If you impact one student, if you inspire one student, if someone remembers that you helped them when they needed it, then it’s worth everything.”

As South Africa commemorates the 50th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Gilbert believes young people have both a privilege and a responsibility to continue building a better society. “We have the time, we have the energy and we have the voice. We can’t just sit idly and wait for things to happen. We have to bring about change ourselves.”

Gilbert hopes to remain in higher education, focusing on student development, wellbeing and success. But wherever his journey takes him, one thing seems certain: Service will remain at its heart. After all, he firmly believes that anyone can make a difference.

“Never think you can’t help people just because you’re a student,” he says. “There are opportunities to go out there and help and serve people on campus. In your community there are NGOs, there are struggling schools, there are people on the side of the road who need your help. So never think you’re not needed or that you can’t do anything.”

Tyrese Human wants every child to know they belong

When Tyrese Human was eight years old, he made a bold announcement to his family. One day, he declared, he was going to move overseas, buy a limousine and a private jet, and come back to fetch them.

Years later, his mother Samantha Holt still reminds him of that moment whenever he shares another academic result, leadership appointment or achievement. “It was audacious,” Human laughs. In hindsight, he knows his childhood dream wasn’t really about the limousine. It was about possibility.

Growing up in Eldorado Park, south of Johannesburg, Human was surrounded by stories that suggested certain futures were inevitable. The community is often associated with gangsterism, substance abuse and limited opportunities. Many young people grow up believing that where they are born determines where they will end up.

Human decided early that he would not accept that narrative. “My mother raised me with a mentality that if I want something, I can get it, provided I keep my faith and my humility,” he says. That conviction would become one of the defining forces of his life.

As a child, Human loved books, school and learning. He was naturally curious and often gravitated towards adults, teachers and mentors. But being different was not always easy. “I loved reading, which was very rare for a lot of boys my age,” he says. “For some reason the girls always loved me in school. And I loved them back.”

In a community where expectations about how boys should behave could be rigid, Human often found himself standing apart. His mannerisms, interests and personality made him a target for bullying that stretched from primary school into high school.

What helped him endure was an unwavering support system. His mother, sister Simoreece and stepfather Nolan and extended family continually reinforced a message that would shape the rest of his life: He was allowed to be himself. “They reminded me that I am not what people think of me. I get to define who Tyrese Human is.”

Finding his place

Human arrived at SU as the first person in his family to attend university, aided by NSFAS funding. Initially, he was uncertain about his choice of degree. Education had not been part of a grand master plan. But as he researched foundation phase teaching, something clicked.

Today, he cannot imagine doing anything else. Looking back, there were signs all along. As a child, he would gather imaginary learners around a whiteboard at home and play teacher while the adults prepared Sunday lunch. “I realise now that the love for teaching was always there.”

The transition to university was quite a shock and Human initially felt a bit intimidated and uncertain. His instinctive response was to stay busy. He joined the Education Student Committee (ESC) during his first year and quickly discovered a passion for leadership.

What followed was a remarkable journey through student governance, leadership development and advocacy. Over the years, he took on increasingly significant responsibilities. He became the chairperson of the ESC, then the chairperson of the Academic Affairs Council now serving on the Student Representative Council (SRC) as an ex officio member.

For Human, leadership has never been about titles. “It goes back to my why,” he explains. “If I can make a difference in one student’s life, if one person can say there was somebody who didn’t give up on me, then I’ve done what I needed to do.”

Along the way, he found mentors who helped him grow. He speaks warmly of staff members such as Janice Ghalpie, Delecia Davids and Dr Joy Petersen, as well as many classmates, colleagues and University leaders who encouraged him when self-doubt crept in. “There is a culture of community at Stellenbosch. It’s sometimes overwhelming to know how many people are rooting for you!”

A flame worth passing on

Despite his many leadership commitments, Human’s future vision remains rooted in the classroom. After graduating, he plans to teach locally before spending time teaching in China. Longer term, he hopes to work his way through the education system, combining practical experience with leadership and policy development.

Whatever position he eventually occupies, his goal remains consistent. “I want learners to have the same affirmation that I had as a child.” He wants children to know they are allowed to dream beyond the limitations of their circumstances. He wants them to understand that their differences are not weaknesses. He wants them to discover their own agency.

As South Africa commemorates the 50th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Human draws inspiration from young people who refused to remain silent in the face of injustice. “They weren’t waiting for change,” he says. “They took action and claimed agency. Yes, there are still a lot of issues that we need to campaign for tirelessly today, but I cannot imagine what our fight would look like if it wasn’t for the bravery of the class of 1976.”

Today, the boy who once dreamed of private jets and limousines understands that success looks different than he imagined. It is not measured by status or material worth. It is measured by impact.

It is found in the student who gains confidence, the learner who discovers their voice, or the young person who begins to believe that their future can be bigger than their circumstances. For Human, that has always been the point.

After all, sometimes the most powerful thing a person can do is remind someone else that they are allowed to take up space. So, he makes a point of always concluding with: “I am Tyrese Human and this is my story.”

Lateefah Matinka is making overlooked futures visible

Lateefah Matinka is living testimony that young people from overlooked backgrounds can occupy and reshape educational spaces. For the dynamic young woman, this reality is the foundation of her work as a student leader, human rights advocate and community activist.

The final-year BA Humanities student at Stellenbosch University (SU) has spent much of her university journey creating opportunities for young people who, like her, have often felt overlooked by society. Through her leadership in the United Nations Association of South Africa (UNASA), her role as Vice-Chairperson of the UniDreams Foundation and her work through the Lighthouse Project, she is helping young people see themselves differently.

“A big part of what I want to do in the future is help build platforms and spaces where young people, especially those from disadvantaged backgrounds, feel seen, capable and supported,” she says.

That commitment is rooted in her own experiences. Matinka grew up as the second of ten siblings in a household marked by instability, substance abuse and gender-based violence. She is also a first-generation university student in a family where higher education seemed out of reach.

Yet amid those challenges were moments that shaped her understanding of dignity and compassion. She remembers her grandmother, who worked as a domestic worker for nearly four decades, encouraging her to pursue an education and break the cycle of hardship. She also remembers arriving at school in winter with shoes that were falling apart until a teacher quietly bought her a new pair. “It was one of the first times I understood what it means for someone to see you and respond with care.”

Those experiences would later influence how she viewed leadership and social justice.

Finding purpose in speaking out

Growing up, Matinka witnessed realities that many young people should never have to navigate. Violence against women, child abuse and inequality were part of the environment around her. For a long time, those experiences felt normalised.

Then something shifted. “There was a point where I said enough is enough,” she recalls. “I made a decision to take action and reclaim my sense of power from a situation that had taken so much from me.”

What began as a personal act of resistance gradually evolved into advocacy. As she became more aware of how deeply gender-based violence and injustice affected her community, remaining silent no longer felt possible. “Silence enables perpetrators. It allows them to continue.”

Her activism opened doors to larger platforms. She has spoken on BRICS TV, addressed the Mandela Impact Forum, led human rights initiatives through UNASA and will represent South Africa at an international leadership event in Turkey later this year.

She insists that leadership is not about recognition. “I’m very people-oriented,” she remarks. “If I have the capacity to support someone, I will. If I know someone who can help, I’ll connect them. That comes from my own experiences of receiving kindness and support from others.”

Hope already exists

Much of Matinka’s work focuses on supporting young people from disadvantaged communities through mentorship, educational support and leadership development.

But the communities she serves have changed her as much as she hopes to influence them. “What has shifted in me is that I no longer see hope as something we bring into these spaces,” she explains. “It is something that already exists, even in the most difficult environments.”

She speaks of learners who study by candlelight because there is no electricity at home, and others who care for younger siblings before attending educational programmes. Despite enormous obstacles, they continue showing up, asking questions about university and dreaming about futures that nobody around them has experienced before. “In those moments, it becomes very clear that hope is not something we are handing over. It is something they are already holding onto.”

The experience has reinforced her belief that many young people are not lacking potential, but opportunity. “We are not arriving to fix anything. We are simply being trusted to walk alongside people who are already fighting very hard for their own futures.”

Claiming space

When Matinka arrived at SU, she initially struggled to find her place. She remembers sitting in a lecture hall surrounded by students opening MacBooks and iPads while she took notes in a R5-notebook bought from a discount store. She became conscious of how she dressed, spoke and carried herself. At times, she questioned whether she belonged.

“I genuinely considered dropping out.” What helped her persevere was remembering why she had come.

She realised that her presence at the university represented something larger than herself. Instead of focusing on what she lacked, she began focusing on what she could contribute. She credits her sister, mentors such as Michelle Pietersen from the Centre for the Advancement of Social Impact and Transformation, and fellow student leaders for helping her navigate the journey.

“A lot of my growth has not come from formal structures alone, but from the people I work alongside every day,” she says. “We have grown together while working towards shared goals.”

As South Africa marks the 50th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Matinka feels a profound sense of responsibility to honour the legacy of young people who challenged injustice before her. “I feel immense respect for the courage of the youth of 1976. It reminds me that leadership should never become passive or self-focused.”

Asked what she would say to a young girl growing up in poverty or hardship today, her answer reflects the philosophy that guides her work. “You do not have to be extraordinary to deserve a different life. Please do not let the world convince you that your story is already written.”

Risuna Risimati helps to shape the future of student leadership at SU

Long before she became a member of Stellenbosch University (SU) Council, chaired the Academic Affairs Council or served as Chief Justice of the Student Court, Risuna Risimati was simply a young girl growing up in Johannesburg trying to understand herself and the world around her.

She moved between her parents’ homes during weekends and school holidays, carrying with her the influence of a mother she still describes as the most important figure in her life. “From the time I was five years old, frolicking about her office in my pink tutu after ballet practice, to the day I announced that I was off to Stellenbosch University, my mum Tshilidzi Silinda taught me the importance of being myself – fiercely and unapologetically,” says Risimati.

It is a philosophy that still shapes the way she moves through the world today: outspoken, principled and unwilling to shrink herself to make others comfortable.

Now completing her Master of Laws degree at SU, Risimati has built a formidable leadership record during her years on campus. Her CV reads like a map of the institution’s governance structures. She has served in Student Parliament, the Juridical Society, the Academic Affairs Council, the Students’ Representative Council, Council committees and, more recently, as Chief Justice of the Student Court. Along the way, she also received the University’s prestigious Rector’s Award for Excellence in Leadership.

Yet the polished public image conceals a reserved side that many do not expect. “People would be most surprised to learn that I am quite introverted and that public speaking makes me a little bit anxious,” she admits. 

Away from meetings, legal arguments and governance debates, she finds comfort in solitude: reading in cosy cafés, taking walks around Coetzenberg and running through the quiet streets of Mostertsdrift. “When I leave my phone behind and switch off from the rest of the world, that’s when I feel most rejuvenated and recharged.”

Leadership in difficult moments

Risimati’s years in student leadership coincided with some of the most difficult and emotionally charged periods facing universities across South Africa. One of the hardest came during the accommodation crisis and student debt challenges at the beginning of the 2024 academic year while she served on the Students’ Representative Council (SRC) Executive Committee.

“We represented a barrage of students without housing or the ability to register for the new year,” she says. “That time was rife with uncertainty and anxiety.”

The pressure of helping carry student concerns while navigating institutional systems often became emotionally exhausting. Another particularly demanding moment came while working on the Anderson v SEC judgement as part of the Student Court, where she and her colleagues had to weigh constitutional questions that could affect the composition of the SRC itself. “The pressure of writing the judgement was overwhelming,” she recalls.

Still, she learned an important lesson through those experiences: Leadership does not require perfection or emotional invulnerability. “I was reminded of the value of being human, of feeling overwhelmed and exhausted but also in pushing through and being the voice that so many didn’t have.”

Throughout those moments, support structures at SU became essential. Risimati speaks warmly about the role played by Student Governance staff members as well as senior institutional leaders who continued to guide student leaders through difficult periods. She specifically acknowledges the support of members of Rectorate, including the Deputy Vice-Chancellor: Learning and Teaching, the Registrar and the Dean of Students, for responding to late-night emails and helping student leaders navigate moments of uncertainty.

She also credits the Centre for Student Counselling and Development (CSCD) for helping her navigate anxiety and overwhelm during particularly demanding periods. “The support structures were incredibly useful in times when I needed help,” she says.

Carrying the legacy forward

As South Africa commemorates the 50th anniversary of the 1976 Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Risimati believes young people still carry the responsibility to shape the country’s future through active participation and advocacy. “Young people are not just the future of South Africa,” she says. “Their voice has the power to change what tomorrow looks like.”

For her, meaningful leadership begins in communities, universities and conversations where people advocate for those who are most vulnerable. Importantly, she believes voting and civic participation remain central to ensuring equal opportunity and meaningful support for all South Africans.

This Youth Day, she plans to spend time with her mother over breakfast – a quiet but deeply symbolic moment. She says her mother often reminds her of what life looked like under apartheid and of the sacrifices that gave young South Africans opportunities previous generations were denied.

“Being able to choose a career path that I was passionate about and studying that in university without feeling undeserving or that I did not belong is a privilege that many fought and died for.”

That awareness continues to shape the way she approaches leadership and service.

For students arriving at SU feeling intimidated or uncertain of where they belong, Risimati’s message is straightforward: there is space for everyone. “As unfamiliar and daunting as it may seem, there are always people and communities ready to accept you with open arms,” she says. “Be it Student Parliament, the SRC or societies geared towards niche interests, there are numerous channels to funnel your young energy and potential. Even if you struggle to find a community, belonging, or your sense of self in Stellenbosch, there’s an abundance of support services available to pick you up when need it most.” 

Gomolemo Nkgoedi is proving that small acts can change lives

Long before Gomolemo Nkgoedi became a medical student, he was a patient. Growing up in a township outside Bloemfontein, he spent much of his early childhood in hospital following a serious accident. Some of his earliest memories are not of playgrounds or classrooms, but of children’s wards, doctors and nurses.

Yet his most vivid memory is not the medical treatment. It’s the kindness. “I remember the doctor who taught me how to make my first paper aeroplane,” he recalls. “The occupational therapists taught me how to read. The doctors, the nurses, the staff were my friends.”

For the inquisitive young boy, those healthcare workers became role models. The way they went above and beyond their duties to truly care for a vulnerable child left a lasting impression on Nkgoedi. His childhood dream to become a doctor was not only to become a healer, but to emulate the same profoundly positive impact the hospital staff had on his life. 

Today, Nkgoedi is a third-year medical student at SU’s Faculty of Medicine and Health Sciences. Known affectionately as “Gomo, the mover and shaker”, he is already a force for good on the Tygerberg campus where he’s driving impactful initiatives rooted in care and support.

An ambitious child and self-described dreamer, Nkgoedi believed university was part of his future. When application season arrived, he sold sweets at school to help pay his university application fees. “I’ve always been inventive with coming up with solutions,” he says with a smile.

More than a food parcel

That same determination to find solutions would eventually shape one of his most important leadership roles. Nkgoedi serves as chairperson of the Tygerberg Pantry Project, an initiative that provides students with access to food, toiletries and essential sanitary products through an anonymous request system. The project was established to ensure that no student’s academic success is compromised by food insecurity or a lack of basic necessities. 

When he first became involved, he helped pack and distribute donations. One particular experience left a lasting impression.

A student had submitted a request for several essential items. Nkgoedi began assembling the parcel, only to discover that the pantry had almost nothing left to give. “The only thing we had in stock was a packet of instant brown onion soup,” he recalls.

The experience was deeply frustrating. “I felt despondent and thought: What can I do to really help?” Rather than waiting for someone else to solve the problem, Nkgoedi and his fellow student leaders began encouraging students themselves to become part of the solution. Donation drives were launched, awareness campaigns expanded and conversations with faculty leadership intensified.

The goal was never simply to provide food. “A very important consideration is respecting and restoring the dignity of students,” he says.

The pantry now supports students facing a range of challenges, from food insecurity to period poverty and financial hardship. Requests are handled anonymously, ensuring that students receive support without embarrassment or stigma. 

For Nkgoedi, these small acts of care can have a profound impact. “Getting help makes people feel human and seen and cared for. You’re taking away their worry of where their next meal will come from.”

One hand washes the other

At the heart of Nkgoedi’s leadership philosophy is a simple Xhosa expression: Izandla ziya gezana – one hand washes the other. It is a principle he returns to often. Whether organising food drives, collecting scrubs for first-year medical students or facilitating conversations about inequality and social justice, his focus is always on building communities where people support one another.

“When we work together as one, our fire as a community will never stop burning,” he says. His belief in collective responsibility has been shaped not only by his upbringing, but also by his experiences at SU.

Before arriving on campus, he had never been exposed to such a diverse range of people, perspectives and life experiences. “Stellenbosch University has opened my eyes to the reality that we are an unequal country,” he says. “We usually group ourselves into those inequalities. In a melting pot like our campus, we must move out of our comfort zones and meet each other.”

University has also taught him valuable lessons about resilience. One of the biggest challenges he faced was learning to overcome the fear of failure. Early leadership ambitions did not always unfold as planned. Yet those disappointments eventually led him towards what he describes as his biggest achievement of the past few years – now being in a position where he can do groundbreaking work that really matters.

“My biggest achievement is being given a chance in leadership to do things that are truly impactful, like the success of our scrub drive and the improvements in pantries across campus and how diverse groups of people have opened up to join in difficult conversations.” 

As South Africa commemorates the 50th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Nkgoedi believes young people have a responsibility to honour the sacrifices of earlier generations through action. “They wanted better for themselves and for us. For me it starts with how I, as an individual, can make a difference.”

Outside of medicine and student leadership, he enjoys singing, dancing, making what he describes as “corny jokes” and spending time with friends. “I’m a big connection-type person,” he says.

Nkgoedi hopes to one day combine medicine with public health leadership, helping to improve healthcare systems and service delivery in South Africa. His ambition remains as bold as it was when he was a child folding paper aeroplanes in a hospital ward.

“I always like to think big and ask myself, ‘How can I bring about the greatest impact to improve people’s lives?’” Then he smiles. “I believe life meets you at your level of audacity.”

Adam Venter believes community is built through everyday acts of kindness, connection and service

When a series of rugby injuries brought Adam Venter’s sporting ambitions to an abrupt halt, he could easily have focused on what he had lost. Instead, he discovered something new.

“I’ve had my fair share of concussions and knee surgeries,” he says with a grin. “At the time it feels like the end of the world, but looking back, those setbacks pushed me towards new opportunities and new passions.”

Those passions now include running, cycling, swimming and endurance sports – activities that have become central not only to his own wellbeing, but also to the lives of others through a charitable initiative he started while studying at Stellenbosch University (SU).

The second-year BCom International Business student grew up in Durbanville, with an older brother and a family that shared a love for sport. Rugby dominated much of his childhood and school years, but injuries eventually forced him to rethink his future.

This experience taught him an important lesson. “You’ve got to look at things from a broader perspective,” he reflects. “What feels difficult right now won’t always be that way. Sometimes setbacks help you discover things you never would have found otherwise.”

Turning movement into meaning

That attitude helped inspire The Get Active Project, a social media initiative through which Venter encourages people to stay active while raising money for charity. What began as a personal challenge has grown into a meaningful fundraising campaign. “I always wanted to document my fitness journey, but I didn’t want to be just another person posting online,” he explains. “I wanted it to have a purpose.”

Inspired by a fellow student who completed a year-long fundraising challenge, Venter launched The Get Active Project in 2025. The concept is simple: Get active every day and use social media to encourage donations to charitable causes.

To date, he has raised more than R20 000 for various organisations. This year, his focus has shifted to the South African Federation for Mental Health. Mental wellbeing is a cause that resonates deeply with him.

“Sport and exercise have always helped me mentally,” he says. “If I’ve had a bad day or need to clear my head, I’ll go for a run, a swim or a cycle. It has always helped me process things and feel better.”

His hope is that the project encourages others to experience those benefits too. “There is so much negativity on social media. I want to use social media’s potential to spread a positive message and hopefully motivate people to either get active themselves or support a worthwhile cause.”

The initiative has also taught him something about confidence. “At first I worried people might think it was weird,” he recalls with a laugh. “But my friends in res have been incredibly supportive. It gave me confidence not to worry so much about what other people think when you’re doing something for the right reasons.”

The power of community

Although sport remains a major part of his life, Venter’s university experience has been shaped just as much by the people around him. As a resident of Simonsberg men’s residence, he has found himself drawn to mentoring and supporting fellow students. He was recently selected as a residence mentor and has also worked as a mathematics and science tutor.

One of the things he values most about residence life is the diversity of the student community. “There are people from every culture, background and belief system,” he says. “It’s amazing to see people who seem completely different becoming close friends.”

Outside of lectures, fundraising drives and endurance training, Venter enjoys the simple pleasures of student life. He is an avid music lover who rarely goes anywhere without headphones and he’s proud of having been a member of the Simonsberg a cappella group. He enjoys reading when time allows, debating films with his movie-obsessed roommate and spending time with friends.

Some of his favourite moments involve escaping into nature – swimming in the waterfalls of Jonkershoek, hiking in the mountains around Stellenbosch or even spending a night under the stars on Stellenbosch Mountain. “I’m a big connection type of person,” he says. “Having a sense of community and really being with people is one of the best things you can do for yourself.”

As South Africa commemorates the 50th anniversary of the Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Venter believes young people have an important responsibility to lead by example. “It may sound like a cliché, but I believe the youth of today are tomorrow’s leaders,” he says. “There is still a lot of work to be done, but we’ve also come a long way. Our diversity and inclusiveness are strengths, and the best way forward is to work together.”

He hopes to participate in an international exchange programme as part of his degree, and he looks forward to pursuing postgraduate studies abroad while building a career in investment management.

Wherever life takes this gentle giant, Stellenbosch will always hold a very special place in his heart. One day when he leaves to study abroad, he’ll miss the Maties Gym at Coetzenburg with its “amazing” swimming pool where he’s a regular. “And I’ll probably miss the incredible sense of community and all the friendly faces, like the baristas at My Brew in the Neelsie. They are the happiest people in the world; they always make my day better!”

• Follow Adam Venter’s inspiring Get Active journey on Instagram. 

Joy Schoor’s second chance at life inspires hope for others

At 14 years old, Joy Schoor was forced to confront something most teenagers cannot begin to imagine: the possibility of dying before her life had truly begun.

In January 2016, after returning from a family holiday to the Kruger National Park, she suddenly became ill with a fever. What initially appeared to be an infection soon became something far more serious. After numerous tests and hospital visits, Schoor was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia, an aggressive form of blood cancer.

Her life changed almost overnight. She left school for a year to undergo chemotherapy and eventually a bone marrow transplant. Her younger brother, Joel, became her stem cell donor. “At 14 years old I was confronted with the possibility of death,” she says. “But to me cancer was never a death sentence.”

Paying it forward

Today, nearly a decade later, Schoor is a final-year MBChB student at SU’s Faculty of Medicine and Health Sciences, studying towards the very profession that once helped save her life. The journey between those two moments has been shaped by faith, resilience and a determination to turn suffering into purpose. “I truly believe God carried me,” she says quietly. 

Schoor grew up in what she describes as a loving home where faith, perseverance and compassion formed the foundation of family life. Her parents worked hard to provide for her and her younger brother, even during difficult periods. “We did not always have everything, but I was surrounded by my family, friends and church community.”

Long before her diagnosis, she already dreamed of becoming a doctor. Cancer did not create that dream – it deepened it. “My cancer journey strengthened my desire to study medicine because I wanted to pay forward the care I received,” she says.

During her treatment, she experienced firsthand what it means to depend entirely on the compassion of healthcare professionals. The warmth and humanity shown by her doctors and nurses left a permanent impression.  

“There is something so powerful about being able to tell a patient ‘I understand’ and genuinely mean it.” 

Carrying pressure and gratitude together

Although surviving cancer transformed Schoor’s perspective on life, it did not remove the challenges that followed. Studying medicine at SU became one of the greatest opportunities of her life, but also one of the most demanding.

“Medicine is academically and emotionally challenging,” she says. There were moments when financial pressure made her question whether she would be able to continue her studies. Receiving the Carl & Emily Fuchs Foundation Chancellor’s Bursary, aimed at supporting students from the “missing middle”, became a turning point not only financially but emotionally.

“Receiving the bursary means so much more than financial support,” she says. “It brought relief to my family during a time when the pressure of studying medicine felt overwhelming.” More importantly, it restored something less tangible but equally important: hope. “It meant that my dreams could still become a reality despite the challenges I face.”

The programme’s mentorship structures also became an important source of encouragement during difficult periods. Schoor speaks warmly about the support she received from mentors who consistently reminded students that their circumstances did not define their future.

Throughout her years at university, Schoor carried another quiet source of strength with her – the memory of having already survived something much bigger than any examination or trying semester. “If I could survive cancer, I could survive the difficult seasons in university too.”

Her journey has also connected her with a global community of transplant survivors. In 2025, she competed at the World Transplant Games in Germany, where she participated in swimming events alongside athletes from around the world who had also endured life-threatening illnesses and organ transplants. “It honestly did not feel like a competition,” she says. “It felt like being surrounded by people who understood parts of your journey without you having to explain it.”

More than survival

As South Africa marks the 50th anniversary of the 1976 Soweto Uprising this Youth Month, Schoor believes the courage of previous generations should continue to inspire young people facing their own struggles today. “Young people still have the power to shape a better future by never giving up, by continuing to fight even when everything tells you to give up.”

At the same time, she believes society often misunderstands what resilience really looks like among young people carrying emotional, financial and personal burdens while still trying to succeed. “People see the success, but not many see the pressure behind it,” she notes.

For many students, she explains, achievement is not only personal ambition. It is also about trying to create a different future for their families and communities. “Young people are often called resilient, but many are not resilient by choice.”

Outside medicine, Schoor finds peace in simple things: camping, nature, swimming and spending time with her church community, family and friends. Her friends, she says, would probably describe her as someone “full of laughter and life”. It’s quite fitting that her name is Joy. 

Looking ahead, Schoor hopes to become a doctor who offers patients more than treatment alone. “I want to be the kind of doctor who not only treats illness, but who also gives patients hope,” she says.

Ten years ago, she was a teenage girl fighting for her life in a hospital ward. Today, she is preparing to become a doctor herself. “A journey far from easy, but totally worth it,” she smiles.