In 2025, I joined the Brunel READY Programme thinking it would be a useful opportunity to develop skills and boost my CV. I did not expect it to become such a personal and eye-opening experience. I am a second-year undergraduate student studying Biomedical Science at Brunel University London, and most of my time is spent studying the science behind health and disease. While my degree focuses heavily on biology and laboratory work, it has also made me reflect on the wider factors that influence health and wellbeing beyond medicine alone. That curiosity is what led me to the READY Programme. I wanted to step outside my usual academic environment and engage with real-world issues that do not always feature in lectures.
Through the programme, I learned about Afghanistan and the realities faced by people living in displacement. Working alongside the Afghanistan and Central Asian community gave me a deeper understanding of the human stories behind the headlines—stories of resilience, loss, and strength that are often overlooked. What made the experience especially meaningful was how human it felt. It encouraged me to listen, question my assumptions, and approach global issues with empathy rather than distance. The READY Programme showed me that learning does not stop at textbooks or labs—it happens when we engage with people, understand their experiences, and reflect on our own responsibilities. Looking back, the programme has influenced how I see both my studies and my future. It reminded me why I chose biomedical science in the first place: not just to understand health on a biological level, but to contribute, in whatever way I can, to improving lives in a broader and more compassionate sense.
Before this project, my knowledge of Afghanistan and internally displaced people was quite surface-level. I knew displacement was a major issue, but I had not really thought about what it means to remain displaced within your own country, or how that shapes daily life in a city like Kabul. My understanding was mostly shaped by headlines rather than real stories, so this project pushed me to learn far beyond what I thought I knew.
From the very first session, it was clear that this was not a typical classroom experience. We were not just learning how to “be employable”; we were being asked to step into other people’s shoes and think about what safety, dignity, and opportunity mean when your home has been reduced to a tent in a crowded camp.
Meeting Peace Pioneers and the Story of Gulbadan Begum
I was placed in a team that eventually became known as Peace Pioneers. The name came naturally—we wanted to create something small yet hopeful, a project that could gently push back against the darkness faced by Afghan communities living without basic infrastructure. Our focus quickly settled on the Charahi Qambar IDP camp in Kabul Province. That is where we learned about Gulbadan Begum—not in person, but through her story. She is a mother of three living in a camp with no electricity. As soon as the sun sets, the world around her becomes a blanket of danger. Her children need to use the bathroom, but stepping outside in pitch darkness means risking their safety and privacy.
Families burn plastic or kerosene just to see a few steps ahead, filling their tents with toxic fumes. Children’s study time is cut short by sunset. Women and girls are more vulnerable to accidents and gender-based violence once night falls. It is not just an inconvenience. Darkness becomes a daily threat.
Hearing about Gulbadan’s life shifted something in me. I stopped seeing the lack of electricity as a technical issue and started seeing it as a barrier to education, safety, and dignity.
Sun Bottle: A Small Light with a Big Purpose
In response to this reality, our team designed the Sun Bottle Light Kit. On paper, it sounds simple: recycled plastic bottles, water, bleach or salt water as a natural alternative, and micro solar panels. In practice, it holds a powerful idea—turning everyday materials into affordable, renewable lighting that could brighten pathways and homes in IDP camps.
During the day, the bottle acts like a skylight, refracting sunlight into tents or shelters. At night, a small solar component can provide low-cost lighting for key areas such as toilets, walkways, or communal spaces. It is not high-tech or flashy, but that is the point. The design is meant to be low-cost and easy to maintain, made from locally available materials, able to reduce fire risks from candles or kerosene, and environmentally sustainable by reusing plastic that might otherwise become waste.
Connecting the Project to the UN Sustainable Development Goals
We aligned our idea with the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals, particularly SDG 7 (Affordable and Clean Energy) and SDG 11 (Sustainable Cities and Communities), because both speak directly to the realities faced by internally displaced people living in camps in Kabul.
SDG-7 focuses on ensuring access to affordable, reliable, and clean energy—something that is almost completely absent in places like the Charahi Qambar IDP camp. Families living there have no access to electricity and are forced to rely on unsafe alternatives such as burning plastic, candles, or kerosene. These options are not only expensive but also harmful to health, filling small shelters with toxic smoke and significantly increasing the risk of fires. Our Sun Bottle Light Kit was designed to address this gap by using simple solar and daylight-based technology made from recycled plastic bottles and low-cost materials. By providing safe, renewable lighting, the project improves daily life while reducing environmental harm and dependence on dangerous energy sources.
At the same time, the project strongly reflects SDG-11, which aims to make cities and communities inclusive, safe, resilient, and sustainable. Displacement in Kabul is not happening in isolation—it is an urban challenge affecting millions of people, many of whom are children and young people. Our solution goes beyond lighting alone by focusing on safety, dignity, and community ownership. Better lighting means safer movement at night, reduced risks of accidents and gender-based violence, and more opportunities for children to study after dark. By involving local labour, training residents in installation and maintenance, and working through community structures, the project supports internally displaced people as active participants in shaping safer and more resilient living environments rather than passive recipients of aid.
What mattered most to me, however, was imagining the impact of one simple change: a child like Gulbadan’s daughter being able to read for an extra hour at night, or a woman walking to the shared bathroom without fear. In the camp we focused on, families live in tents with no electricity, so as soon as the sun sets, everything becomes harder and more dangerous. Children cannot study, parents must choose between sitting in darkness or burning plastic and kerosene for light, and women and girls feel especially vulnerable moving around the camp at night due to unlit pathways.
In this context, SDG 7 is not an abstract global goal—it is about replacing dirty, unsafe fuels with clean energy that does not pollute the air or drain the little income families have. SDG 11 is about recognising that even informal settlements and displacement camps are places where people live, grow up, and try to build a sense of normality. Better lighting is not just about “seeing in the dark,” but about safer routes, greater freedom of movement, and creating an environment that feels more like a community and less like a forgotten, temporary space. The everyday moments we imagined—a child reading for longer, a girl walking without fear—may seem small, but they are powerful ways of bringing SDG 7 and SDG 11 to life in Gulbadan’s world.
Learning from ACAA: Beyond the Classroom
What made the READY Programme truly special was its collaboration with ACAA (Afghanistan and Central Asian Association). ACAA is not just a name on a slide; it is a grassroots organisation that has been supporting refugees and migrants for many years, particularly within Afghan communities. Their work ranges from language classes and legal advice to women’s empowerment activities and community-building—most importantly, they create a sense of belonging for people starting over in a new country.
Knowing that our final project would be shared with people connected to ACAA completely changed how I approached the challenge. It stopped feeling like a typical university assignment and became something much more real. I felt a sense of responsibility knowing that our ideas might be seen by people who understand displacement through lived experience, not just theory. This pushed me to think more carefully about cultural sensitivity, dignity, and community ownership—questions that stayed with me long after the READY Programme ended.
This experience also played a big role in preparing me for employability. Working on a real-world challenge helped me develop skills that go beyond academic knowledge, such as collaboration, problem-solving, communication, and adapting ideas based on feedback. It taught me how to approach complex issues thoughtfully, work with people from different backgrounds, and consider the real impact of my decisions—skills that are essential in any professional setting, particularly in health, humanitarian, or community-focused work.
Once I had been challenged in this way, it no longer felt right to treat Afghanistan and displacement as a “project topic” that ended with a presentation. I wanted to stay connected to the people and the issues behind the brief, and ACAA felt like the most natural bridge between my learning at Brunel and real, ongoing work with refugees and migrants. That is why I decided to volunteer with ACAA. I wanted to move from hypothetical solutions to showing up in person—listening, learning, and being useful in whatever small ways I could, whether that meant helping at events, supporting outreach, or simply creating a welcoming space for people who have been forced to start over.
Being part of their team allows me to deepen my understanding of the Afghan and wider refugee communities they support, while constantly challenging my own assumptions through real relationships rather than distant research. Looking ahead, I hope to combine this experience with my studies so that, in the future, I can contribute to projects, policies, or initiatives that are shaped with displaced people, not just about them—whether that is in community work, humanitarian innovation, or advocacy for safer and fairer systems for those seeking refuge.
The Final: From Presentation to Purpose
The final presentation felt like the culmination of weeks of research, discussion, and trial and error. Standing there with my team and talking through the Sun Bottle concept, I realised how much we had grown. We were not just presenting a product; we were telling a story—of Gulbadan, of Afghan camps, and of young people living in the shadows of crisis who still dream, learn, and hope.
We shared how our idea could be implemented: training local youth to assemble and install the kits, partnering with NGOs for funding, and building community ownership so the project would not depend solely on external support. We also explored how the model could expand beyond one camp, or even beyond Afghanistan, to other displacement settings. The questions we received were challenging but energising, forcing us to think more deeply about logistics, cultural acceptance, and long-term sustainability.
In that moment, I realised that the READY Programme had quietly equipped us with something powerful: the ability to connect empathy with practical problem-solving.
What I’m Taking Forward
Looking back, the READY Programme gave me much more than technical skills. Yes, I developed teamwork, presentation, and research abilities. Yes, I learned how to break down a problem, analyse costs, and communicate clearly. But the deeper lessons were human ones. I learned that a single, well-designed idea can bring real comfort to people living in crisis; that grassroots organisations like ACAA are lifelines, not just “charities”; and that employability is not only about getting a job, but about the kind of citizen and professional you want to be. Most importantly, I realised that you do not have to be in Kabul to care about Kabul. From a campus in London, we can still choose to engage with global injustice—to listen, learn, and act with respect and humility.
The Brunel READY Programme illuminated more than the tents of an imagined camp. It lit a path for me too—a path where skills, compassion, and global awareness walk side by side. And just like a Sun Bottle in the dark, that small light feels like the beginning of something much bigger.
By Wayez Mahfuz Mugdha