Latest News Archive

Please select Category, Year, and then Month to display items
Previous Archive
12 December 2020 | Story André Damons | Photo Supplied
Read More Bianca Vermeulen
Bianca Vermeulen started her journey to become a doctor this year after being accepted by the University of the Free State (UFS) to study medicine. She had previously applied 32 times in eight years to study medicine.

A first-year medical student from the University of Free State (UFS) is finally on her way to realise her childhood dream of becoming a doctor after having been rejected 32 times in eight years to study medicine.

Bianca Vermeulen, who started the MBChB programme in 2020, said she applied 32 times in eight years and got rejected every time. As a qualified Critical Care Clinical Technologist who worked for the Free State Department of Health, the daily interaction with her patients and colleagues inspired her to keep her dream alive.

“My childhood dream (of becoming a doctor) did not fade. Dreams do not have expiry dates. During my time in the clinical setting, I learnt some important life lessons. Experience is most definitely what I got when I did not get what I wanted,” said Vermeulen.

According to her, working in a clinical setting fueled her passion. Said Bianca: “I woke up to an alarm clock of opportunity. At the end of the day I can go home with a feeling of satisfaction. I could not have done it without the support of my colleagues and friends. Then it all becomes worth it.”

Finally, a yes to study medicine

Vermeulen said she was at work when she received an e-mail on 3 October 2019 from the UFS application office. She initially ignored the e-mail thinking they would resend one of their earlier rejection letters. After ‘accidentally’ opening the letter, she could not believe her eyes.

“For a moment I was in denial. I had to read the letter a few times to ensure my eyes were not bewitching me. I had to show a friend to ensure that I had read and understood the letter. Then the reality came as an overwhelming mixture of emotions.”

Studying medicine during a pandemic

Vermeulen , who has a passion for neonatal and paediatric intensive care and would like to specialise in paediatrics and child health care after her undergraduate studies, said she welcomes the change that COVID-19 brought to the academic table.

“Daily routine changed overnight for all people and all stared uncertainty in the face. Students had to adapt to a blended learning approach (which also had its own challenges), but as time progressed, we learnt the new ropes.

“I truly hope that we all take the COVID lessons to heart. In the medical sector, no one is a greater ‘hero’ than another. The sector needs various role players and I hope that people realise the importance of nurses, hospital cleaners, administrative staff and all allied health workers. Without these people, the medical sector cannot function. We all need one another.

“With that being said, I hope people realise that we need a functional system so that we can work with each other and not against a system,” said Vermeulen.

Working with various healthcare workers, she has seen the effects of burnout and experienced the best (and worst) of both worlds but is still happy with her choice to study medicine.

It only takes one successful application

“As [US educator] Randy Pausch said: ‘The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something.’ I take this to heart,” Vermeulen said.

“You might have received ample unsuccessful applications, but it will only take one successful application to commence with your dream. If it is truly something you want to do, never give up on your dreams. Always work hard and take to heart what the Lord has done for you!”

News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

We use cookies to make interactions with our websites and services easy and meaningful. To better understand how they are used, read more about the UFS cookie policy. By continuing to use this site you are giving us your consent to do this.

Accept