09/02/2026
It started, like most good stories do, with two people who had no idea what they were walking into.
They landed in Kenya with the usual mix of excitement and quiet panic, the kind that hits somewhere over the Atlantic when you realize the textbook chapters are about to become real life. By the time they reached CPGH, that panic had turned into something else — nervous laughter, mostly, standing in a hallway outside the nursing station in scrubs that clearly belonged to someone else first, boots two sizes too big, waiting for whatever came next.
What came next was a shift neither of them expected to be ready for. Ten minutes after this photo was taken, one of them was standing beside a surgeon, handing over instruments mid-procedure, hands steadier than she felt. The other found her place at the nursing station, learning the rhythm of a ward that ran on routines she was only just beginning to understand.
Nobody tells you that the hardest part isn't the shift itself — it's the ten minutes before it, in a hallway, wondering if you're actually cut out for this. They were. They just didn't know it yet.
That's usually how it goes. You don't feel ready. You show up anyway. And somewhere between the ill-fitting boots and the open theatre door, you become someone a little different than who you were on the flight over.
If there's a version of this story waiting for you too, it starts the same way theirs did — with an application.
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