“During VUT’s Diamond Jubilee year, Motheo Moswathupa celebrates her Diploma in Chemical Engineering while continuing treatment for cancer.”
19 October 2026 | Story by: Tshepiso Kaibe | Picture: Keitumetse Mokgope
7 minutes read time.
There was a time when Ms Motheo Moswathupa could imagine her graduation gown, but could no longer be certain she would live to wear it.
The young woman from Ga-Matlala Ramoshebo in Limpopo had been working towards a future in engineering when, during her final year at the Vaal University of Technology (VUT), she was diagnosed with stage 4 gastric cancer that had spread to her lungs.
At 22, she was confronting questions no young person expects to face. Assignments, work experience and graduation suddenly shared space with hospital admissions, treatment and the uncertainty of another day.
For months before her diagnosis, she had moved between doctors and hospitals, seriously ill and without answers. When the diagnosis finally came, fear was accompanied by an unexpected feeling: relief.
“When I first received the diagnosis, I actually felt a sense of relief. Of course, I was scared, but after months of being sick, going in and out of doctors’ offices and not knowing what was wrong with me, finally having an answer brought some relief,” she recalled.
“Cancer was terrifying, but at least it was no longer an invisible enemy. Now I knew what I was fighting.”
Two weeks after being discharged from hospital following her diagnosis, her condition deteriorated. Back in the emergency department, waiting to be admitted, she began preparing her parents for a possibility none of them wanted to contemplate.
“While I was in the emergency department waiting to be admitted, I remember telling my parents that I wanted to be an organ donor,” she shared.
“That was how convinced I was that I wasn’t going to make it. I genuinely didn’t believe I would survive that weekend, let alone live long enough to graduate. At that point, graduation felt like something that belonged to a future I might never see.”
Yet, on 15 September 2026, Ms Moswathupa walked across the graduation stage to receive her Diploma in Chemical Engineering.
It happened during VUT’s Diamond Jubilee year. As the University marked 60 years, she celebrated a milestone she had once feared she would never reach.
“It is not just a graduation. It is proof that I am still here. When I got diagnosed, I did not think I would live to wear this gown. So graduating is my victory,” she said.
Her dream of becoming an engineer had brought her to VUT, where she was drawn to the practical approach to engineering education. She arrived with ambitions for her future, unaware of how much it would take to hold on to them.
Since 2025, she has endured three hospital admissions, several medical procedures and a major operation known as a thoracotomy. She has completed eight rounds of chemotherapy and continues to receive treatment.
As the cancer affected her lungs, breathing became a daily struggle. She spent months bedridden and dependent on oxygen support. Eventually, she had to put her Work Integrated Learning (WIL) programme on hold because she was physically unable to continue.
“My life went from worrying about assignments, work and graduation to simply focusing on whether I could get through the day,” she explained.
Even then, her studies remained part of the future she wanted to return to. Some of her academic work followed her into hospital.
“There were days I was writing my research from my hospital bed with drips on my hand,” she said.
The days after chemotherapy were particularly difficult. Severe pins and needles in her hands made ordinary tasks painful. At one point, she wore gloves just to touch objects. When writing and typing became too difficult, she relied on help from family and friends with her WIL reports.
“It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I cried a lot, but I kept going because I did not want cancer to take my degree too.”
There were days when she considered giving up. Her faith, family and friends helped her through those moments. Her supervisor also offered words she held on to: “You can still do it.”
Sometimes, continuing meant setting aside the larger goal and recognising what she could manage that day.
“Sometimes, getting out of bed and managing to sit on a chair for an hour was an achievement. Every small victory felt like one more step towards Desmond Tutu Hall. I think those little victories eventually became the bigger victory of graduation.”
An hour in a chair. A little more strength. Another piece of work completed. Slowly, the day she had imagined from her hospital bed drew closer.
When she finally put on her graduation gown, she struggled to believe the moment had arrived.
“Putting on my graduation gown felt surreal. Even now, it still feels like a fever dream,” she recalled.
“Just a few months earlier, I had been at home, connected to an oxygen tank and struggling to breathe. Now I was breathing on my own, walking across a stage and receiving the qualification I had worked so hard for.”
Among everything she remembers about that day, it is her mother’s happiness that stays with her.
“One of the best parts of graduation was seeing the happiness on my mother’s face. We had been through an incredibly difficult year together, and it meant so much to finally have something go our way,” she said.
“For so long, our conversations had been about hospitals, treatment, my health and simply trying to get through the next day. Seeing my mother happy and seeing her watch me graduate was something I will never forget.”
For a family whose days had been shaped by worry, graduation brought the chance to gather around something joyful. There was still treatment ahead, but there was also a gown, a qualification and a daughter whose future once again held possibilities.
As VUT celebrates its Diamond Jubilee and looks ahead through Strategy 2033+, stories such as Motheo’s give human meaning to the University’s ambitions. They remind the institution that every qualification belongs to a person with hopes, responsibilities and circumstances that may never be visible on an academic record.
For Ms Moswathupa, the next chapter includes continuing her treatment and pursuing her ambition to become an engineer. She also hopes to encourage young women who dream of careers in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM), particularly those who wonder whether their circumstances will allow them to continue.
Her message to other students comes from the difficult days she remembers so clearly.
“Please do not give up. I know it feels impossible right now. I was in that hospital bed thinking of quitting, too. However, your pain is not the end of your story. Take it easy, one day at a time. Ask for help if you need it. Talk to your lecturers and mentors. Rest if you must, but do not quit.”
Her understanding of achievement has changed. She has learnt to recognise progress in moments she might once have taken for granted.
“For me, getting out of bed was a victory. Sitting in a chair was a victory. Breathing without oxygen was a victory. And eventually, walking across that graduation stage was another victory.”
Her treatment journey continues, and the future still carries uncertainty. But she now has a memory that once seemed beyond her reach: wearing her gown, receiving her qualification and seeing her mother smile.
“I didn’t get to graduation because the journey was easy. I got there because I kept taking one small step at a time, even when I wasn’t sure there would be a next step.”
VUT congratulates Ms Moswathupa on this deeply meaningful achievement and wishes her strength throughout her treatment, moments of rest and joy, and opportunities to pursue the future she has worked so hard to reach.