Working for my dream

Many a time we fail to accept responsibility for our own lives. We forget that we drive ourselves to our own promised land. The most notable winners at some point encountered heartbreaking obstacles before they triumphed. They succeeded simply because they refused to be victims of circumstances. Certainly, nobody glows more than he who let the hurt go. Growing up just like any other normal kid I used to run around whenever I saw aeroplanes in the sky. At school I would say when I grow up I want to be a pilot. Can you imagine the excitement of the Wright brothers on the morning of that first flight? For the only boy in a family of four that would surely make a mother proud. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning and only execution brings a glimmer of success. Things took a sudden twist in 2009 on the 21st of August when mother was involved in a fatal car accident along Seke road. Her spinal cord was left damaged and there was no hope that she could ever walk again. She was admitted at the Avenues hospital, where her recovery path seemed smooth. Within a few weeks, she was transferred to St Giles where she was to learn how to use a wheelchair. On one particular day, a doctor on night shift mistakenly handled her whilst she was in her sleep and she fell off the bed. Efforts to keep her alive were made but she died on her way to Parirenyatwa. When I received the news I realised that making mom happy was out of reach. The pain I felt made me want to save lives. I wanted to be a different doctor. Peace of mind became a fallen concept for me. I knew that for me to achieve this new found dream I had to work extra hard even if it meant that I had to starve whilst on books. It is during our hardest times that we discover our true taste and desire for success. I refused to conform to the dogmas of the society I lived in. Many a time young children who lose their mothers end up vagabonds. I constantly asked myself certain questions: Who am I around? What are they doing to me? What have they got me reading? What have they got me saying? Where do they have me going? What do they have me thinking? For some time I hated the so called street lingo ‘swagg'. Simply because I had an educational standard I was termed a nerd. I chose not to limit myself because of other limited imagination. I chose to leave a trail where there was no path than to further bare the usual pathway. I conquered my worst fears, failure. I joined medical school in august 2018. Driven by my personal statement: ‘TO BE THE LEAD PROVIDER OF INCLUSIVE QUALITY HEALTH. TO PROVIDE EQUITABLE, QUALITY, INCLUSIVE, RELEVANT AND COMPETENCE DRIVEN HEALTH SERVICES IN OUR BELOVED ZIMBABWE. I do not wish to be the wealthiest but certainly the most educated doctor of my generation with the aim of specializing later on as a neurosurgeon. Too many people wish to cross the fence and be where the grass is clean. I believe I am where I should be, all I need is to just water the grass I am standing on to make it green. The gods are different, the times are different but the underlying precepts of caring for the sick wherever or whoever they may remain the same. Having gone through some of the oath's for doctors I solemnly promised that I would to my best ability to serve humanity caring for the sick, promoting good health and alleviating pain and suffering. I now turn to my calling, promising to preserve its finest traditions, with the reward of long experience in the joy of healing. This promise is made freely and without coercion. Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be. The best way to predict your own future is to create it and live to it. It is under the greatest adversity that there exists the greatest potential for doing well.

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