Please Help Me Stay In Medical School
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About Me:
My name is Noroh Dakim, and I am a second-year medical student at the University of Toronto. I am passionate about healthcare, community work, advocacy and mentorship, which is demonstrated by my involvement in the Hospitality and Children's departments at Restoration House Hamilton, Head of Mentorship role with the Black Medical Students Association, Co-Director position with the Immigrant and Refugee Equitable Access to Healthcare, Co-founding the Newcomer Mentorship Program at University of Toronto, and several other positions/projects.
I created this GoFundMe to raise money for my medical school tuition fees. The COVID-19 pandemic and current recession in Nigeria has significantly impacted my family financially. I currently have outstanding fees from last school year and this semester, and will be forced to take a leave of absence if I do not make a minimum payment of $89,376 by this Friday (December 11th, 2020). Taking a leave of absence is very complicated because of my study permit restrictions.
Total Outstanding Fees = $134,787.11*
Minimum payment required by Friday = $89,376*
I am fundraising the minimum amount needed for me to stay in school ($89,376) plus GoFundMe Fees (2.9% + $0.3 per transaction), therefore a total of $92,000.
*see screenshots from my student account below my story for proof of amounts
My Story:
At the age of 16, I immigrated from Nigeria to Canada as an international student, without any family. With the complexity and uncertainty of moving to a new country, the only thing I was certain about was my aspiration to become a medical doctor. My certainty in my aspiration began to waver as I learned and experienced the several barriers of applying to medical school in Canada.
In 2017, I attended a conference at the University of Toronto, organized for pre-medical students from underrepresented groups. Sitting in a room full of 200 Black students aspiring to be medical doctors, all I could think to myself was if our stories panned out like Chika’s, only one of us in this room would be accepted into medical school. That year, Chika was the only Black student in a class of 259 medical students at the University of Toronto.
3 years later, it feels so surreal that I am studying medicine at one of the top medical schools in Canada – University of Toronto. Despite the significant underrepresentation of Black students, the crippling low acceptance rate to medical school, and the incredibly few spots allocated to international students (10 out of 260 spots), I made it.
My desire to become a medical doctor was ignited when I lost my cousin at a young age to sickle cell anemia. Having felt the pain, agony and hurt that accompanied death, I deeply yearned to become a medical doctor, hoping to prevent others from feeling the hurt I experienced. Therefore, from the moment I landed in Canada, I strived for excellence and worked extremely hard to achieve my dream of becoming a medical doctor. It was, thus, a shock to me when, upon receiving my offer of admission to the University of Toronto, I did not feel my heart bursting with all the joy in the world, as I had imagined. Everyone with whom I shared the news of my acceptance, seemed so happy for me, happier than I felt. It was not until two weeks after receiving my acceptance letter that I realized what was keeping me from being happy. When I received my offer of admission, all I could think about was the overwhelming tuition fees that accompanied this achievement.
As an international student, my tuition is ~$95,000 per year, which is about four times the tuition of Canadian students ($25,000; University of Toronto Tuition Fees ). My parents, who are my sole sponsors, reside and work in Nigeria, earning in the Nigerian currency, which has an extremely low value compared to the Canadian dollar. Initially, my parents had planned to sell their house and assets to be able to afford my medical education. However due to the economic climate and recession in Nigeria, no buyers have come forth. With recent pay cuts due to the COVID-19 pandemic, my family’s financial struggle has worsened. Additionally, as an international student in Canada, I am not eligible to obtain financial support from the government nor lines of credit from banks (except a Canadian citizen or permanent resident cosigns).
My parents have tried their best to support me financially. Unfortunately, I still have outstanding fees from last school year and this semester. As a result, I will be forced to take a leave of absence after this semester if I am unable to make any payment. I have until this Friday (December 11th, 2020) to make the required payment or take a leave of absence. Taking a leave of absence is complicated because of my study permit/visa restrictions. As a study permit holder, I am unable to take a year off school, unless I change my immigration status by applying for a work permit. However, the work permit I am eligible to apply for, requires a job offer, and a confirmation letter from the employer stating that a labour market impact assessment (LMIA) showing that I was hired because no Canadian citizen or permanent resident was available to do the job was completed. After completing the LMIA and submitting all required documents, the work permit application processing time is currently ~5 months.
I have thoroughly enjoyed my medical education thus far, particularly learning ways, I, an aspiring medical doctor, can disrupt, overturn and reconstruct systems to ensure all patients, especially patients from equity deserving groups, receive safe and quality care. For many, being accepted to medical school is a blissful and joyous experience. However, my bliss has been severely dampened by my enormous financial challenges, and my journey as a medical student has been clouded with overwhelming worry. All I want is to become a medical doctor, providing quality care to my patients, and hoping to prevent others from feeling the hurt I felt when I lost my cousin. I assure you that financially supporting my medical education would not only be an investment in me, but an investment in the patient lives I will impact, the communities I will continue to serve, as well as the next generation of – Black and immigrant – medical doctors I will continue to support and mentor, paying forward the enormous support I received from my mentors.
I sincerely appreciate any support you can provide.
Thank you,
Noroh Dakim
Screenshots from my student account:
My name is Noroh Dakim, and I am a second-year medical student at the University of Toronto. I am passionate about healthcare, community work, advocacy and mentorship, which is demonstrated by my involvement in the Hospitality and Children's departments at Restoration House Hamilton, Head of Mentorship role with the Black Medical Students Association, Co-Director position with the Immigrant and Refugee Equitable Access to Healthcare, Co-founding the Newcomer Mentorship Program at University of Toronto, and several other positions/projects.
I created this GoFundMe to raise money for my medical school tuition fees. The COVID-19 pandemic and current recession in Nigeria has significantly impacted my family financially. I currently have outstanding fees from last school year and this semester, and will be forced to take a leave of absence if I do not make a minimum payment of $89,376 by this Friday (December 11th, 2020). Taking a leave of absence is very complicated because of my study permit restrictions.
Total Outstanding Fees = $134,787.11*
Minimum payment required by Friday = $89,376*
I am fundraising the minimum amount needed for me to stay in school ($89,376) plus GoFundMe Fees (2.9% + $0.3 per transaction), therefore a total of $92,000.
*see screenshots from my student account below my story for proof of amounts
My Story:
At the age of 16, I immigrated from Nigeria to Canada as an international student, without any family. With the complexity and uncertainty of moving to a new country, the only thing I was certain about was my aspiration to become a medical doctor. My certainty in my aspiration began to waver as I learned and experienced the several barriers of applying to medical school in Canada.
In 2017, I attended a conference at the University of Toronto, organized for pre-medical students from underrepresented groups. Sitting in a room full of 200 Black students aspiring to be medical doctors, all I could think to myself was if our stories panned out like Chika’s, only one of us in this room would be accepted into medical school. That year, Chika was the only Black student in a class of 259 medical students at the University of Toronto.
3 years later, it feels so surreal that I am studying medicine at one of the top medical schools in Canada – University of Toronto. Despite the significant underrepresentation of Black students, the crippling low acceptance rate to medical school, and the incredibly few spots allocated to international students (10 out of 260 spots), I made it.
My desire to become a medical doctor was ignited when I lost my cousin at a young age to sickle cell anemia. Having felt the pain, agony and hurt that accompanied death, I deeply yearned to become a medical doctor, hoping to prevent others from feeling the hurt I experienced. Therefore, from the moment I landed in Canada, I strived for excellence and worked extremely hard to achieve my dream of becoming a medical doctor. It was, thus, a shock to me when, upon receiving my offer of admission to the University of Toronto, I did not feel my heart bursting with all the joy in the world, as I had imagined. Everyone with whom I shared the news of my acceptance, seemed so happy for me, happier than I felt. It was not until two weeks after receiving my acceptance letter that I realized what was keeping me from being happy. When I received my offer of admission, all I could think about was the overwhelming tuition fees that accompanied this achievement.
As an international student, my tuition is ~$95,000 per year, which is about four times the tuition of Canadian students ($25,000; University of Toronto Tuition Fees ). My parents, who are my sole sponsors, reside and work in Nigeria, earning in the Nigerian currency, which has an extremely low value compared to the Canadian dollar. Initially, my parents had planned to sell their house and assets to be able to afford my medical education. However due to the economic climate and recession in Nigeria, no buyers have come forth. With recent pay cuts due to the COVID-19 pandemic, my family’s financial struggle has worsened. Additionally, as an international student in Canada, I am not eligible to obtain financial support from the government nor lines of credit from banks (except a Canadian citizen or permanent resident cosigns).
My parents have tried their best to support me financially. Unfortunately, I still have outstanding fees from last school year and this semester. As a result, I will be forced to take a leave of absence after this semester if I am unable to make any payment. I have until this Friday (December 11th, 2020) to make the required payment or take a leave of absence. Taking a leave of absence is complicated because of my study permit/visa restrictions. As a study permit holder, I am unable to take a year off school, unless I change my immigration status by applying for a work permit. However, the work permit I am eligible to apply for, requires a job offer, and a confirmation letter from the employer stating that a labour market impact assessment (LMIA) showing that I was hired because no Canadian citizen or permanent resident was available to do the job was completed. After completing the LMIA and submitting all required documents, the work permit application processing time is currently ~5 months.
I have thoroughly enjoyed my medical education thus far, particularly learning ways, I, an aspiring medical doctor, can disrupt, overturn and reconstruct systems to ensure all patients, especially patients from equity deserving groups, receive safe and quality care. For many, being accepted to medical school is a blissful and joyous experience. However, my bliss has been severely dampened by my enormous financial challenges, and my journey as a medical student has been clouded with overwhelming worry. All I want is to become a medical doctor, providing quality care to my patients, and hoping to prevent others from feeling the hurt I felt when I lost my cousin. I assure you that financially supporting my medical education would not only be an investment in me, but an investment in the patient lives I will impact, the communities I will continue to serve, as well as the next generation of – Black and immigrant – medical doctors I will continue to support and mentor, paying forward the enormous support I received from my mentors.
I sincerely appreciate any support you can provide.
Thank you,
Noroh Dakim
Screenshots from my student account:
Organizer
Noroh Dakim
Organizer
Toronto, ON
