By the time I was fourteen, I had lost both parents, an early loss that continues to shape how I see the world. I grew up in Apartheid-era South Africa, where I learned that the political is always personal, and later emigrated alone to the United States. There I built a decades-long career as a hospital physician before recently stepping away, ready to close that chapter.

Now I have the space to spend more time on something I’ve always wanted to pursue with intention: writing. I focus on creative nonfiction and personal essays, circling themes of grief, resilience, belonging, and home. Most days I hover between sentences wondering if I belong here at all, which feels like an honest place to start.