The day had finally come. Weeks of preparation had built up to this moment – my interview with the panel at the University of Kent, UK, to assess my readiness to undertake a PhD in the chemistry department. Up until this point, I had only known life as a South African scholar, nestled in the administrative capital, Tshwane, navigating the changes in political landscape as well as recovering from a global pandemic.
I couldn’t have predicted how some of these political decisions would interrupt the most important call of my life.
Forty minutes into the conversation, as my prospective professor fired off one technical question after another, I had barely started crunching the numbers when the screen went black and the voices cut out. No apology or explanation, they were simply gone. My heart dropped.
Was this how my PhD dreams would be ended? Darkness?
Loadshedding without prior notice!
Electricity cuts had been more prevalent of late in South Africa with a growing demand for electricity and limited supply. The government had gotten into the rhythm of using managed cuts (known as loadshedding) to supply whenever the power stations were overwhelmed. But this one had come with no warning.
On this particular day, thankfully, I had mobile data and could reconnect to the call. The panel was quite understanding. But things could have been very different – my opportunity could have been lost just like that!
I am now almost done with my second year of research in the UK. I cannot believe how my perspective has shifted regarding the former electricity crises. South Africa’s power supply has significantly improved since, and many of us can hardly remember how intense those days of making alternative plans for the cuts were. But that moment stays with me, and I find myself accessing the lessons learnt in that time and applying them to this season of my life.
Load shedding was no fun, but it has taught me:
The importance of planning. Starting the day without checking the loadshedding schedule often led to frustration, even though sometimes the cuts were random and unannounced – such as during my interview. Planning around outages improved not only daily life but also how I manage my time between lab work, teaching, administration and data analysis.
How to pivot. This is something any synthetic chemist never stops circling back to. When the route you thought would help you obtain your pure molecular product just isn’t giving, you go back to the drawing board to find alternatives (like that mobile data).
Have a sense of humour. Sometimes, despite your best planning, preparation and hard work, things simply don’t work out. More often than not, these moments aren’t life-altering – they’re just inconvenient, uncomfortable or downright silly. It might be spilling your carefully purified product during the final wash or catching the wrong bus in your first weeks in a new country, missing orientation. These mishaps are part of life. Sometimes, the healthiest response is to laugh, learn and move on.
What could have become another ‘Africa has unreliable electricity’ story became something far more valuable. In hindsight, loadshedding wasn’t the obstacle I thought it was. Rather, it helped me to assess the people I would be working with. Were they rigid or gracious? Transactional or empathetic? Thankfully, their response told me everything I needed to know.
Sometimes, the lights going out is exactly what we need to see others more clearly.
