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I managed to complete Sixth Form with decent AS and A-levels, but I felt adrift. While my peers seemed confident about their futures, I followed the expected path to university, studying BA Classical Music, later transferring to BA Jazz. As the first-generation child of Nigerian immigrants and the first in my family to attend university, I felt the weight of my family’s expectations, alongside the increasing challenge of vocal and motor tics.��

A diagnosis and a new chapter��

In my early twenties, I was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome. Finally, I had an explanation, though it came with the realisation that this neurological condition would be my lifelong companion. What followed was a journey of self-discovery — through therapies, treatments, and connecting with others like me.��

I shared my experiences on platforms like the BBC documentaries Tourette’s: I Swear I Can Sing and Tourette’s: Let Me Entertain You and on Channel 4’s The Undateables. As a Black, neurodiverse woman, I wanted to bring a nuanced perspective to these conversations, especially given the lower rates of Tourette’s diagnosis among women.��

Finding my way to Birkbeck��

Despite my achievements, the allure of completing a degree lingered. A friend mentioned ����logo���’s evening classes, and I saw an ad on the Tube — a rare occurrence since public transport often exacerbates my tics. This felt like a sign.��

At an Open Evening, I met Dr Jan Etienne, a Black woman succeeding in an often white, male-dominated academic world. This inspiring encounter cemented my decision to apply for the BSc Social Sciences program, and I enrolled. Orientation week introduced me to ����logo���’s Disability and Dyslexia Service, where I learned about resources like Disabled Students Allowance (DSA). Thanks to Rob Martin from the service, I navigated the process with ease and began accessing the support I needed to thrive.��

Overcoming challenges, embracing support��

During my studies, I was also diagnosed with dyslexia, which reframed my earlier struggles as a lack of proper support rather than a personal failing. With tailored accommodations in place, I could finally engage with learning in a meaningful way.��

Living with disabilities, chronic pain, and neurodiversity presented constant hurdles. Motor tics over the years had led to early-onset arthritis, and I was also managing bipolar disorder and ADHD. Personal losses, a global pandemic, and a year-long break from studies added to the challenges. Yet, ����logo���’s environment was always understanding. Lecturers, support staff, and wellbeing advisors provided encouragement and flexibility, whether I needed to repeat a year or submit assignments late. I never felt judged—only supported.��

Lessons beyond the classroom��

Studying at ����logo��� taught me resilience and the power of asking for help. This was a place where challenges were met with solutions, where diversity and inclusion �ɱ�����’t just words but lived values. My journey reminds me that success ��DZ����’t follow a straight path — ����’s about finding alternative ways to achieve your goals.��

Looking ahead��

Today, in my professional work supporting children, young people, and families, as well as mentoring my niece and nephew into higher education, I aim to inspire others. I want them to see �ɳ󲹳�’s possible, regardless of the obstacles.��

One of my lecturers, Dr Federico Matos, once said, “You can know.” These words resonate deeply. University ������’t just about acquiring knowledge — ����’s about unlocking the potential within yourself. For me, ����logo��� was the gateway to that realisation.��

Studying at ����logo��� taught me resilience and the power of asking for help. This was a place where challenges were met with solutions, where diversity and inclusion �ɱ�����’t just words but lived values. My journey reminds me that success ��DZ����’t follow a straight path — ����’s about finding alternative ways to achieve your goals.��

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