Rangan Srikhanta is a 2019-20 Skoll Scholar and MBA. In this blog, Rangan reflects on completing his final term at Oxford Saïd during the pandemic.
My last post was an opportunity for me to reflect on what brought me to Oxford and the transformative experience it was having in the space of just one term. This post has taken much longer to marinate than usual, but COVID-19 has provided many an opportunity to stop and reflect.
The Oxford Bubble
As the pandemic infiltrated our Oxford bubble, it become a transformative experience in understanding the human condition. From being dismayed at the frays in our social fabric perfectly encapsulated with panic buying of everyday items, to being inspired by thousands of frontline workers who have put their lives at risk when the long-term effects of exposure to the pandemic are still unknown. The Oxford bubble became a sanctuary for reflection, away from the many distractions that make us yearn for the next thing, without appreciating what we have now.
On a personal level, it was overwhelming to see the town clear out in a matter of weeks, many blossoming friendships that thrived on in-person chance meetings would be tested by a shift across multiple time zones, an artefact of participating in one of the most diverse MBA programmes in the world. Experiencing a deserted Oxford seemed somewhat post-apocalyptic and surreal, when considering that the city had unlikely been this quiet in a very long time.
Spring provided a welcome respite from months of cold, and bike rides an opportunity to take in the fresh air and find calm amidst chaos.
Crises as a Catalyst for Innovation
“The tragedy of life is often not in our failure, but rather in our complacency; not in our doing too much, but rather in our doing too little; not in our living above our ability, but rather in our living below our capacities.”
Benjamin E Mays
The pandemic has exposed our misplaced priorities and helped amplify society’s inequalities to breaking point. I see many similarities between the bushfires that often ravage Australia and the pandemic. The most prophetic is that tragedy always precedes re-birth and re-growth – that they are two sides of the same coin.
Whilst early indications suggest society has become more unjust and more unequal through the pandemic, another perspective is that the pandemic has brought to a head deep structural issues that need revisiting.
I am not sure if the worst is yet to come, but I am certain that these trying times are providing society the space to have those uncomfortable confrontations to build back better.
Author: Rangan Srikhanta, 2019-20 Skoll Scholar and Oxford MBA.
Tsechu Dolma is a 2019-20 Skoll Scholar on the Oxford MBA. In this blog, Tsechu reflects oncompleting her final term at Oxford Saïd during the pandemic.
I feel like I have stepped into a new life twice in my life — the first when my family left Nepal amidst the civil war and sought political asylum in the US, and second my Oxford experience.
Sixteen years ago, my family landed in JFK airport New York to seek political asylum in the United States. All of our worldly possessions fit in the cabin luggage. I missed my home and friends dearly, but I was relieved to leave behind the civil war raging in Nepal. Ten and unable to speak English, I could not understand what the Border Control Officer was asking me. Nonetheless, I was excited about the promise and possibilities of starting a new life in the USA.
A year ago, I packed up a suitcase to move from the US to Oxford. I wasn’t fleeing a civil war this time; I was escaping a political climate riddled with poor leadership and backward policies. I felt the same wave of emotions; homesick, excited, and hopeful. Within the first 24 hours, I started feeling at home in the UK – baking, sharing and laughing with my fellow Skoll scholars.
It had been almost six years since I was last in a classroom. Once classes started, I felt pretty tech-illiterate. I had spent the previous decade as a development practitioner, deep in the trenches fighting food insecurity, socio-economic disparities, and accessibility in South Asia. I had fallen behind on the rapid technology innovation coming out of universities and Big Tech.
I had heard and read a lot about the AI revolution, and I wanted to understand how it could impact my community in terms of both positive and negative aspects. I would have a significant learning curve, but equally, I knew that I could leverage the vast networks of expertise at Oxford. Every student group and department from Oxford Foundry to Women in Business were buzzing about startups, technology, and social impact.
Similar to when I first learned English after moving to the US, I learned tech-speak at Oxford. I learned to code and manage technology business. In particular, I reached out to researchers at the Autonomous Intelligent Machines and Systems (AIMS) program, under the engineering department and served as a research assistant. I worked hard quickly to grasp the nuances of AI and its applications to society, in addition to my MBA coursework. I have had the opportunity to work on several projects that address the intersections of AI, equity, and inclusion for all.
In March 2020, switching to a virtual work environment was a struggle for me when it seemed like the community I had worked so hard to build since September 2019 was disintegrating by COVID-19, and I left the UK in a panic. After months now, my community has sprung back stronger than ever before. I feel bittersweet ending my scholarship year at Oxford amid this global tragedy, leaving this nurturing home at Saïd to enter a world in turmoil. Nevertheless, these are precisely the challenges the Skoll Centre and the MBA has well-prepared me to tackle. I will be fighting alongside my peers for a more racially equitable, inclusive, and sustainable future for all.
Author: Tsechu Dolma, 2019-20 Skoll Scholar and Oxford MBA.
Florentina-Daniela Gheorghe, Skoll Scholar 2018-19, reflects on her own personal learnings moving out of Oxford in September 2019, a few months before COVID-19 struck the whole world.
“You will really understand the value of the MBA after 2-3 years,”
a friend and Oxford MBA alumnus told me last year.
I took the MBA as a reflection and learning year: to get to know myself better, improve my leadership skills, understand my strengths and my values in contrast, get to connect with people from all around the world. Learn not only about myself but about the state of the world: of business, of economics, of government. What a ride it was: from moments of exaltation, to moments of tension, to deadlines, to a variety of projects, to cultural alignment and conflict. A ride that I appreciate more and more with the passing of time.
I moved to Oxford for the MBA in September 2018 and moved out of Oxford in September 2019, a few months before COVID-19 struck the whole world.
I am very grateful for the opportunities that reached me in these hard times.
Here is what happened since September:
I got my visa application rejected for South Africa from UK twice! When I finally received it, COVID-19 was spreading all over the world.
I had my ticket and luggage ready to fly the next day and went to the embassy to pick up my passport: I found an empty passport. I applied again; application was rejected again. I was devastated. I was so excited to spend some weeks in South Africa and do an internship with a cool payment startup for SMEs in Cape Town. I was introduced to the company’s founder by a fellow Skoll Scholar and friend from the Oxford network. Four months later, I received a visa which I never used: by now, it was February 2020.
The wine industry
I worked on a project I never imagined myself working on, in the English Sparkling Wine industry in Hampshire, UK.
With no place to stay in London and no visa for South Africa plans, in November I moved to a beautiful vineyard in the South Downs. What a splendid experience! Extremely grateful to a professor from Saïd Business School who recommended me for the project. For 3 winter months, I spend my days understanding the art of winemaking, the market and the sustainability challenges. I was dreaming to making our brand the first circular wine brand in the world! After walking my dog in the darkness of the vineyard post 4 pm every day, I spent many quiet evenings – a blessing after a busy MBA year. The most fascinating thing about wine making is that every single activity in the vineyard, every single touch of the vine can change the final taste of the wine.
My journey as an independent consultant was just beginning
Building on the relationship I developed during the class “Implementing new initiatives in business”, I continued working with an education technology startup in Oxford and helped the five people team think through its value proposition. So many wonderful ideas can arise when we put our customers’ needs at the center of our business decisions.
Social impact consulting for non-profits
While at the vineyard, far away from the city life, I found myself with extra time in the evenings. Towards the end of November, a colleague and friend at Oxford introduced me to a social impact consulting project for a London based consulting firm. Since then, together with other MBA colleagues, we mapped the fundraising markets in Romania, Egypt, Uruguay, scanned the world for emergency funds for children, and looked at global strategies for expanding the number of regular donors for different international non-profits.
My favorite project so far: access to finance in emerging markets
I got introduced to a skill development institute in East Africa by another colleague at Oxford. Since February, we together looked to map the so-called ‘missing middle financing gap’ for small businesses in Kenya and beyond and understand how we might ensure their access to the most needed capital. Then COVID-19 hit the developed world. Many African countries imposed their own form of lockdown. We are now looking at being part of the mobilization for recovery. 100+ million ‘new poor’: the African continent sees the dark consequences of broken supply chains and economic shut-down. It’s imperative we act.
As a startup founder in an emerging market, I experienced first-hand the struggles for survival in under-developed support ecosystems for entrepreneurs. Talking to some mentors and system change experts, I knew I didn’t want to work in impact investing: there is enough money in the world. It’s the time for investors to step up during the pandemic. However, what the world needs more than ever is support for entrepreneurs to become investable, to survive and recover.
NEW! Climate tech startup
What else can I do from my small office desk in St Albans, UK? This time, my mentor in the Executive MBA cohort, introduced me to a circular economy startup run by one of her colleagues. I joined the team recently. We look to create a circular sourcing gateway for the textile and packaging industry. In my partnership role, I seek to bring people together and write fundraising applications in advance of our MVP launch in July this year. It’s so exciting to see how the world is progressing to circular strategies. Here is one of my favorite videos on the change towards a circular economy.
As I write this in June 2020, there is still a lot of uncertainty in the world post-pandemic. I am humbly trying to do my best to remotely support amazing initiatives. Though, my heart is in emerging markets, on the ground, in the streets, among people.
Daniela is a customer centricity consultant, ex social entrepreneur in ed-tech in India and a Skoll Scholar at Oxford Saïd Business School. Find her on Twitter @ella_gh
Tsechu Dolma is a current 2019-20 Skoll Scholar on the Oxford MBA. In this blog, Tsechu reflects on the last three months of the current situation. Sharing her lived experience growing up and howCOVID-19 has exposed an already existing pandemic – systemic racial injustice.
My homecoming has been beleaguered with grief,
anger, heartbreak, angst, exhaustion, and hope.
Ten weeks ago, as in-person classes suspended,
borders shut down, and toilet paper ran out, I scurried out of Oxford and
sought my mother’s warm embrace in Queens, New York. Little did I know then
that I was stepping into one of the hardest-hit communities in the world, and
the COVID-19 pandemic was exacerbating already existing pandemics.
This pandemic has exposed stark disparities in my beloved city as minorities are more likely to lose their job and die due to systemic racial inequality. Many states are reopening, and we are still seeing low-income areas and communities of color being hit the hardest in transmission rates. Death has been imminent, and disease prevalent in my neighborhood; we are the city’s working-class borough of immigrants. We all ended up here because we were escaping civil war, religious persecution, Jim Crow South, among others, and building our ethnic enclaves for security and economic mobility. Everything has felt so out of our control in the last three months.
My community and inner cities across the country are burning today, protesting the use of excessive force with perceived impunity on people of color by police officers nationwide; George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, these are just recent names added to a list of countless horrifying racist killings. I have been participating in the peaceful Black Lives Matter protests, and I have never once felt in danger or seen violence in these demonstrations. However, being a brown girl growing up in post-9/11 New York on refugee status, I have always been afraid of law enforcement. Every morning, starting in sixth grade, my classmates and I would line up for an hour waiting to pass through the metal detectors to get to classes. We had a police officer for every thirty students. What does this do to black and brown children’s psyche when you have armed police in your cafeteria, classrooms, and playground? We had very little margin of error. More of my classmates ended up in the prison system than in four-year colleges.
Colonization, white supremacy has been around
for centuries. Today, I am emboldened by demonstrations around the world. We
need to sustain this movement with staying power to reimagine systemic and
structural racial justice work radically. Currently, most of the funding does
not go into black and brown communities. Every $1 a white-led organization raises,
a black-led organization will raise only $0.24.
I leave you with this quote from Howard Thurman, Black-American educator, and civil rights activist,
“All around us worlds are dying and new worlds are being born; all around us life is dying and life is being born; It is the extra breath from the exhausted lung, the one more thing to try when all else has failed, the upward reach of life when weariness closes in upon all endeavor. This is the basis of hope in moments of despair, the incentive to carry on when times are out of joint, and men have lost their reason, the source of confidence when worlds crash and dreams whiten into ash. The birth of a child — life’s most dramatic answer to death — this is the growing edge incarnate. Look well to the growing edge!”.
As our MBA program is coming to an end from a distance, and we step into our business and management leadership positions, I encourage my classmates to look well to the growing edge and be better allies. I will be using my Skoll Scholarship to fight racial injustice in the American inner-cities. We all have to do this work collectively. We need to prioritize supporting leaders with lived experience, leadership, and communities of Black people.
Author: Tsechu Dolma, 2019-20 Skoll Scholar and Oxford MBA.
Dr. Diana Esther Wangari is a current 2019-20 Skoll Scholar and Oxford MBA. She is the co-founder of last mile health venture, Checkups Medical Centre in Kenya where she dedicates her work to treating those who need it most. Read more about Diana’s experience as a health professional during two viruses.
It started when I was in the queue at
immigration. This was at Brussels Airport. The elegant lady looked at me,
almost apologetically, then whispered to her partner. He turned and looked,
decidedly less friendly, pulled her towards him and they moved forward.
They didn’t have to tell me what they
were thinking. I was the only African in this queue, and it was at the height
of the 2014 Ebola crisis in West Africa: they had no way of knowing what
country I had come from.
And by then, global news headlines had
already proclaimed the ultimate horror: a man infected with Ebola had travelled
all the way to the USA, without his deadly infection being detected.
Worse still, he had interacted with
various members of his friends and family – over and above his fellow
passengers on the flights to the US, and the airline crew – before the truth
had emerged that he had Ebola. Total panic had ensued in America, and demands
were made for all flights to the US from West Africa (if not all of Africa) to
be suspended immediately.
I knew they were looking at me and
thinking just one thing…Ebola.
It was a time of global hysteria over
this terrifying disease, and thus not really the best time for an African to be
flying to Europe or North America.
So why was I there? At that airport?
In that immigration queue?
I had travelled from Nairobi, Kenya to
My final destination was the Institute
of Tropical Medicine (ITM) Antwerp, the very institution where Ebola had been
discovered by Dr. Peter Piot back in 1976.
You could argue that this feeling of
being dehumanised – of being seen essentially as a potential carrier of a
deadly and highly contagious virus – was all in my head. But I was to have an
even more disturbing encounter in the train on my way from Brussels to Antwerp.
On the train where I was seated next
to the window, a child came and sat next to me only for the mother to promptly
grab her hand and swiftly move with her to a distant couch. The gentleman
seated opposite, noticing my facial reaction, leaned in and started speaking in
Now while I do know some French, it
certainly didn’t prepare me for the verbal onslaught of incomprehensible French
that poured forth, and so I stared at the gentleman and said, “En anglais s’il
“Aha, so you are not from a
Francophone country,” said the gentleman, “I was simply apologizing on behalf
of the lady as it is ignorance and now, I see that you are not from West
In the conversation that followed, I
explained to the kind gentleman that I was actually from Kenya. And that
despite there being no cases of Ebola in Kenya, the impact of the Ebola
outbreak on sectors of our economy would be notable.
Our parliament had officially decreed
that Kenya Airways, our national carrier, suspend all its flights to West
Africa for fear that one of the many transit passengers from West Africa would
bring the dreaded disease to Kenya.
The Kenya Airways management argued in
vain that they were taking precautions against any such possibility; that there
were even European airlines still flying to the West African nations affected;
and that flights from West Africa to Dubai or China, via the Nairobi hub, were
a key profit centre for Kenya Airways.
But the parliamentarians would have
none of it. One MP even declared that the next flight from West Africa landing
in Nairobi, would find him – along with his supporters – lying on the runway to
prevent it from landing “if that is what it would take to secure the lives of
innocent Kenyans, threatened by Ebola”.
But I digress. Bruno (for that was his
name) told me of his dream to go on Safari in Kenya and was considering going
to the Maasai Mara to witness the annual wildebeest migration, famously, “The
eighth wonder of the world”.
I was smiling and laughing by the time
I got off the train. But that night – my
first night at ITM – I cried. I just could not help it.
However, that nasty experience of
being an African traveling in Europe at the time of Ebola was quickly forgotten
as I settled into ITM, as every day I got to interact with scientists who were
travelling regularly to Liberia at the very heart of the outbreak: the kind of
courageous and dedicated biomedical researchers that the world has learned to
think of as heroes, since the COVID-19 pandemic descended on us all.
And speaking of COVID-19, six years
after the incident at Brussels Airport, I found myself in another queue. This
time at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi.
After completing the re-entry
formalities, getting into the Uber, I noticed the undue speed with which the
driver picked up my bags and flung them into the boot.
And then, once I was seated in the
back of his car, ever so casually, he asked, “Where are you flying in from, my
“London,” I answered.
And I could hear the “Oh” and then a
moment of silence, before he continued in a rather accusing tone of voice,
“Kenya just confirmed its first case of “corona” yesterday. It was a lady
coming from London as well.”
I got the impression that he felt I
should have volunteered that piece of information about having flown in from
London before I got into his cab; given him the opportunity to decline to drive
An uneasy silence followed.
“Are you worried?” I asked despite the
fact that I was in the back seat with ample space between. He quickly shook his
head but did not say anything.
We drove in silence. But it was
unnerving to see the occasional glances he threw back – taking his eyes away
from the road for a second or two – as if he was checking for some indication
that he was at risk: that a fine mist of coronavirus might be floating towards
him, brought back from a contaminated London, to infect innocent people in
On arrival, I volunteered to take out
my own bags. The driver seemed relieved.
Thanks to that great Kenyan
innovation, the ubiquitous Mpesa mobile phone money transfer system, I was able
to pay him without having to hand over to him, what he would no doubt have
considered to be “corona”-infected cash.
There was a time when I would have
been very tempted to scream at him that I refused to be treated like a leper in
my own country.
But I had seen much more of the world
over the past six years. I understood fear. I just paid him and thanked him. I
even gave him a tip.
And that night, I did not cry.
For you see, I had learnt over the
course of time, life is not black and white. I was now an MBA student at Oxford
University’s Saïd Business School and I had the sinking feeling that our MBA
experience, just like the rest of the world, was not going to be the same. It
has been two months and I was right.
Perhaps the hardest part was being
torn between answering the call to aid my country as a health professional and
continuing down the path I had already embarked on at Oxford. And some days, I do
find myself volunteering in the hospital because the little we can do, we must
And as we continue with our classes
online and I think back to the classmates, the faculty, the friends and the
family I made, I know it has not been easy.
I will tell you what Bruno told me as we left the train that autumn evening at Antwerpen-Central, “Take care of yourself my dear. Don’t forget to smile. It shall pass”.
Joaquín Víquez is a 2019-20 Oxford MBA and Skoll Scholar. He began his social impact career in his native country, Costa Rica, where his passion for environmental sustainability led him to many projects and ventures. Now Joaquin finds himself among 300+ other global MBA candidates in one of the world’s oldest institutions, the University of Oxford.
great adventure, time does truly fly. It seems like yesterday my family and I
were packing our “life” in a few bags to move to Oxford. It has now been almost
8 months since our big move; Michaelmas and Hilary term have come to an end,
which means we are more than halfway to completing the MBA!
After having been away from school almost eight years, I must openly share that the first half of Michaelmas term was an emotional roller coaster. First, you find yourself working through the “jungle” of getting to know your fellow classmates. You think it’s easy but even now, ending Hilary, I’m yet to finish this task. Second, getting used to going to class and purposefully making the effort of acquiring knowledge and making sense of the dozen (if not hundreds) of frameworks to tackle pretty much any business (or non-business) problem you can think of, is exhausting – the expression “drinking water from a fire hose” does become quite literal.
big assignment during the MBA as a team effort, was advising Kraft and Heinz
(ketchup, Mac and Cheese, etc) to deal with its operational challenges. Being a
social entrepreneur, you might agree with me, that this was a somewhat boring task
(I mean there are bigger problems to tackle out there). So yes, at one
point I was nearly convinced I had mistakenly chosen to do an MBA…
But, the advantage of being a [social] entrepreneur, is having perseverance which gave me enough juice to stick with it, in hope that things would get better. And like many fairy tales, it did! New courses came along, bringing much brighter, truly challenging and meaningful tasks; my adaptation phase was over, and days were literally getting brighter and better. With this I want to list a few highlights of the programme and the experience so far:
The climate OBN invited me to share my personal story and journey of starting and running Viogaz (my former renewable energy from waste social startup). Preparing the slides and sharing the story was simply brilliant (as they would say here).
This year’s Global Threats and Opportunities Oxford (GOTO) was on Climate Action within Food and Agriculture – it couldn’t have been more specific to my background and passion. I persuaded my team to focus on the future of food security driven by the unsustainable management of phosphorus and its impact on climate change– I agree, it was a bit technical but really enjoyed working on it! Plus, our group was randomly selected and is now featured in a series of documentaries which is pretty cool. Oh! I was able to start an Entrepreneurship project with an amazing team, with an idea that came out of the GOTO project!
Oxford is just like they say – there is so much going on and “FOMO” (Fear of missing out) is pretty real. Balancing your time is difficult, especially with a family expecting you to be home for dinner. But! I was able to fit in a few things which added so much joy to the whole experience: formal dinners, Oxford half marathon, running club, thanksgiving dinner with friends, drinks after exams, climate change school, etc!
As a young boy, I also experienced the great value of living overseas for some time (I spent a couple of years in the US as a kid). Having the opportunity to do the same for my children and witnessing the transformational experience it has been for them, is definitely a highlight of my time in Oxford.
Now to be
honest, I started working on this blog at the end of February. Back then I had
written how my next challenge was around deciding the future; should my family
and I move back home or stay in UK/Europe for a while? What kind of job should
I apply for? Should I go for summer courses or plan to do an internship? I am
now finishing this blog a month later back in Costa Rica. One week after our
MBA had been moved online until further notice and the day before the UK
announced full lockdown, my family and I once again, packed our bags and left
So much has
been said about this pandemic. All I can say for now, is that the decisions we
make and the actions we take, can be seen as a form of test of how we handle
adversities. For most of us, we will get a chance to see our true selves.