👨🏽🎓 From 3 University Rejections to 3 Graduations
How a winding path can lead to better things • 6 min read
I've always wanted to build the future. For the longest time I wanted to study engineering, and growing up in Mozambique meant casting my eyes outwards for the best education possible. I considered a few universities in a handful of countries, and fate would ultimately have me moving to South Africa.
Now I'm graduating from the University of Cape Town after a journey that took me 8 years from first application to degree conferred. Along the way I picked up two other degrees, made lifelong friends (🤞🏼), and got to live in the most beautiful city on Earth.
But I had to be rejected first. Three times, to be exact.
I. First Blood
In order to apply to South African universities I had to do the National Benchmark Test, or NBT. In high school I studied the Portuguese curriculum, which made tackling the NBT a bit of an uphill climb: many of the concepts were taught differently or just weren't much of a focus, meaning I had a lot of ground to cover. For example, we were required to use TI-83 calculators in math class, meaning calculus questions weren't concerned on whether we could draw functions or not. This lead to very involved questions, each often taking multiple pages. Contrasting that with the NBT's expectation for fully drawn functions meant I had my work cut out for me.
An unexpected wrinkle was applying from a different academic year: my school classes went from September to June, while UCT's calendar started in February. That meant spending an extended time out of high school after graduation1, and it was challenging to see classmates embarking on their college treks while I was poring over test prep – if nothing else, it was a potent lesson on how everyone lives at a different pace.
I went to write the test in a small town called White River, not far from the border between South Africa and Mozambique.
It didn't go very well, and I didn't get in.
II. Let's Hear That B Section Again
I realized I needed to double down on my studies, preferably with a change of scenery. A graphic design course in Cape Town seemed like a perfect fit, seeing as the faded billboards scattered throughout Maputo were always a point of contention for me2 – I thought I'd learn how to make them better. Plus, I would only have classes in the mornings, leaving my afternoons free to study for the NBT at a tutoring place called Master Maths. They weren't used to having people come in just to study for the test, but they didn't turn me away. Their Gardens branch gave me the support I needed to do well.
My graphic design studies were a great experience at the Academy of Digital Arts: I didn't consider myself an incredibly artistic person but thought that the design process could be reverse engineered. I had better luck at logos and layouts than at illustrations, and learned a great deal about how to generate visual ideas. I also improved my public speaking skills by having project presentations every week or two.
Living in town also had it's perks: the academy was on Upper Bree St., and I stayed at a backpackers on Upper Long. The late night conversations I had with people from all over the world were invaluable in expanding my understanding of different backgrounds, especially for someone who had only called Maputo home for most of their life.
I wrote my second NBT at UCT itself. As I shuffled along Upper Campus looking for the Leslie Social building, I passed by many spots where I would make great memories years later.
Not long after that, I got my results. I finally had a good score.
But it wasn't meant to be. Another rejection.
III. There and Back Again
I graduated from the graphic design course and went back for seconds, this time to study web development. The plan was the same, only this time I'd take no prisoners. Less longboarding to the V&A, more derivations and integrals.
I still put in the work at the academy, though: not only was I tackling front end development, but I was also doing audio and video editing as part of my course. It was a great mix of creative and technical work, and I learned many skills that I still use to this day.
I wrote my third and final NBT at the Beattie building, right across from Leslie Social. That's where I met the first person I'd share a classroom with at UCT. I remember both of us standing at the Plaza above the Jammie Steps, looking at the snow covered Jonkershoek mountains, wondering if we'd get in.
My third scores were modestly higher than my second ones.
And I still got rejected.
My runway was over. I wasn't convinced my scores were the issue anymore, and I had to know what was going on. I had sent emails after my previous rejections, but the responses were never concrete.
I picked up the phone, and had one of the most impactful calls of my life.
[...]
- Do you have my transcripts on file?
- Yes.
- Can you see the sworn translations?
- Yes. I see you're coming from Mozambique, which unfortunately means you'll need to complete your 1st year at a university there before we can consider your application here at UCT.
- Can you see that I studied at a Portuguese school?
- Yes.
- And can you see that I studied under the Portuguese curriculum, not the Mozambican system? The Portuguese curriculum is equivalent to Cambridge.
That's it. That's all it took for me to get in. **I'd get an acceptance email shortly after that.
With this weight off my shoulders, my second graduation was much more enjoyable than the first.
IV. Only First Years and Faculty Actually Wear Their Student Cards3
University life was quite different. First year physics and calculus were relentless. Engineering software could crash and wipe out hours of work (save often!). And the later engineering workload was unyielding. Instead of spending mornings on design and afternoons on math, I was spending mornings on inscrutable hieroglyphics (read: solid mechanics), afternoons in labs doing practical assessments, and evenings decoding the aforementioned hieroglyphics. I learned an immeasurable amount on not just a technical sense, but also on managing my time and finding out how I learn best. My experience interning and tutoring not only helped me cement many concepts that I only knew in theory, but also helped me better grasp the classes that came afterwards.
Interlaced with these studies were the Fees Must Fall protests, the drought, and the pandemic. These, too, were unforgettable teachers. I'll be untangling their lessons for years to come.
Yet this time period also added up to some of the most fulfilling years I've had. I've pulled late nights in Green Lab fueled by (questionable) energy drinks with energetic classmates who always had time for a laugh. I've submitted assignments only to see daylight streaming into the lab, meaning I had 2 hours to catch the bus, shower, grab a bite, and be back for an 8AM math lecture (pro tip: don't do this4). I've had hours long Dungeon & Dragons sessions on campus where takeout and tomfoolery were table stakes. I've laughed myself to stitches after seeing a friend spill all of his modeling headshots on Jammie steps at 2AM after a late night of exam prep.
And these are just the tip of the iceberg: if my experiences at the academy allowed me to expand my horizons and bring the disparate together, my time at the university allowed me to hone my work ethic and learn how to learn. Although the repeated university applications were challenging, the end result made persevering all the more rewarding.
My application essay was titled "A Minor Detour" and in it I waxed poetic about my winding path and my learnings, on how much of a different person I'd be without them. I enthused about my passion for engineering and all things technical. But most of all, I gushed about how awestruck I was when I first visited the campus during a rainy August day, about how an impromptu tour convinced me that the university was where I was meant to be.
To this day, I'm still awestruck. Life's so rich.
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Where does the line between “on vacation“ bleed into “unemployed“? One of life’s many mysteries.
Many of the billboards were faded, and even the recent ones employed questionable typefaces, color palettes, and/or imagery. They still haunt my dreams.
Everyone carried their student cards with them since some rooms had access control, but most left the lanyard at home: wearing student cards around their necks was a telltale sign of freshers. That and the wide-eyed optimism, at least until it met the reality of the first class tests.
No, really.
What an amazing story, looking forward to the next update
This was beautiful. All the best with your future endeavours!!!