When I first got to Cambridge, I couldn't afford to buy the books I needed. I had newly arrived in the UK as a young boy who barely spoke English. Somehow I managed to achieve the grades to get into Cambridge University to study medicine. At Cambridge, I was still trying to learn English, still trying to keep up with brilliant minds, and still figuring a new life in the UK. Most of the time I would sit and read the books at Cambridge Trinity Hall library until early hours of the morning because I couldn't afford to have my own books. Years later, I walked into the same Library and saw my own book on the shelves. That moment hit me harder than I expected. Not because it made me appreciate the hard parts, but because it reminded me how far this journey has come. I never thought that I belonged at Cambridge, especially coming here as a refugee, but I always believed in my destiny and I kept taking steps forward. There was a time when I was trying to build a future with very little...