This post was written by Racheal Okuja, who started her PIRS-funded PhD project on ‘Refugee identity, cultural diversity, and the building of resilient communities in humanitarian Settings: A Comparative study of Uganda and Djibouti’ at WSA in September 2026.
The first 18 days as an international PGR student are an interesting mix of new experiences, introductions, information, movement and adjustment. There is a lot happening at once, particularly when you have just moved to a new city, let alone a new country.
The University, the Students’ Union and individual programmes usually put on a lot of formal and informal events during the first week. There are mandatory induction activities that you need to prioritise, as well as optional social gatherings intended to help students meet one another and become familiar with the university. At the same time, there are emails to read, documents to complete, family to keep updated and different places to find. Somewhere in between all of this, you are also beginning to work out the everyday things: where the bus stops are, which bus takes you where, where to eat, where to find student-friendly shops, which shops are nearby and where students normally go.
You do not necessarily sit down and decide that today you are going to figure out the buses, tomorrow the shops and the next day the restaurants. These things simply come up as you move around. You get off at the wrong stop once, ask someone which bus goes in a particular direction, notice a restaurant while walking between buildings, or hear another student mention a shop that is more affordable. Gradually, these small pieces of information become part of your understanding of the place.
You quickly realise that you cannot attend everything advertised during your first week. You have not necessarily met any PGR students yet, and you can easily find yourself getting lost among undergraduates and graduate students who are, of course, very excited to join the university and talking to each other like long-lost friends. Some activities are mandatory and need to be prioritised, while others are opportunities to meet people and become familiar with the university. Sometimes you attend a few events and decide you have had enough for the day. Other times, you find yourself moving from one activity to another because there is simply so much happening.
Then comes the PGR induction, one of your own.
It is one of those moments when you walk into a room full of people and almost everyone is talking. You do not necessarily know what everyone is talking about, and probably no one fully knows what everyone else is talking about either. Most likely, everyone is just relieved and excited to discover that they are not alone after the confusion of initially meeting mostly graduate and undergraduate students.
You start saying hello to people and having conversations. Someone might be talking about how long their flight was. Someone else might already be discussing their research project. Others are talking about their subjects, departments or areas of research. Imposter syndrome may tap you a little, but then you convince yourself that it is all alright, isn’t it?
Some connections form naturally. If you meet someone whose research is a bit like yours, you already have something to talk about. Your subjects give you a reason to exchange contact details and perhaps suggest that you keep in touch.
For others, it is much more random. You might exchange numbers with someone simply because you had a good conversation and think you may meet again. You do not necessarily know whether you will actually cross paths once the induction is over. Your subjects, departments, buildings and research schedules may take you in completely different directions.
And that is perfectly fine.
Everyone is still trying to get their footing.
The induction is not necessarily about suddenly forming a complete social circle. It is more about knowing that you are not alone, that you are seen, putting faces to some faculty names, having conversations, exchanging contacts and beginning to recognise some of the people who are starting this journey alongside you.
Then come the administrative requirements.
Receiving all the administrative information can actually be quite reassuring. At least now you know what the university expects you to do: registrations, forms, training, deadlines and other requirements. There is something useful about having a clearer picture of the things that need to be done.
At the same time, the university introduces you to a lot of practical information about everyday student life. You hear about different university services and where to go when you need help. You learn about shops around campus.
And then the big induction is done.
You are now, in many ways, on your own, with the assurance from the faculties that they are present and available when you need them. But they will not necessarily schedule an appointment for you to meet your supervisor, and you begin to realise that you have to start finding your own way through the system.
In the middle of all these interactions, someone mentions an app that students are expected to use and that might also be useful outside the administrative requirements. So, you download it because it seems important.
Then you download another one.
And another.
At the time, you think you will probably use all of them. A few days later, you may realise that you have barely opened some of them and eventually delete them from your phone. But during those first few days, everything seems worth remembering.
You are learning which systems matter, which emails you need to pay attention to, where information is usually posted and how things are organised. Some information makes sense immediately. Other information only becomes useful when you suddenly need it.
The university, of course, keeps moving.
Someone might casually mention that there is a meeting scheduled for the following day. You check your diary and do not remember seeing anything about it. You start wondering where the information came from. Was it in an email? Was it on a university platform? Did someone mention it during a meeting?
It is another small part of learning how the university communicates. You gradually begin to understand that becoming familiar with the university is not only about knowing where the buildings are. It is also about learning how information moves around and where you are expected to look for it.
And then there is your phone.
There is almost no chance to let it die. You quickly realise how much of everyday life depends on it. Scanning barcodes becomes routine, Google Maps becomes your guide, bus tickets are on your phone, and even paying for groceries may require it. You need your phone working at all times and I hope you have bought a SIM by now.
Keep it charged. It is better to do that than experience the panic of boarding a bus and suddenly realising you cannot find your e-ticket, or worse, that your battery is about to die. Do not panic, though. The Unilink bus drivers are kind enough to wait while you figure things out or at least that has been my experience. I have mainly used Unilink buses, so I am sure the others are kind enough to help you figure it out too.
In these first few days, your phone is not just a way of communicating. It is your map, your ticket, your payment method and, sometimes, your lifeline for finding your way around. You need your phone fully functional.
Meanwhile, your accommodation has also formed a group communication channel, and that becomes another stream of information coming into your phone. There are messages about accommodation expectations, companies advertising their services, which lift is not working, which bin has been used incorrectly and, of course, messages about certain flats being noisy.
In some ways, accommodation gives you one of the clearest views of how international the university really is.
You share spaces with people from different countries, hear different accents in the corridor and see different foods being prepared in the kitchen. People have different routines, different habits and different ideas about shared spaces.
You might walk into the kitchen and find someone cooking food you have never seen before but relax, it goes both ways.
Someone else might be preparing something that reminds you of home.
People speak to family members in different languages over the phone.
Some people cook late at night. Others are up early.
Even something as ordinary as the laundry room becomes part of the experience.
You put your clothes into the washing machine, go back when the cycle should be finished and find that someone’s clothes are still there.
So you wait.
Maybe they will come back in a few minutes. You wait a little longer.
Eventually, you start wondering whether they have completely forgotten about their laundry and whether you are going to have to wait for some kind of miracle before the machine becomes available.
Then, eventually, the person appears, collects their clothes and the situation is resolved.
Nothing visibly dramatic has happened.
But these ordinary moments make the international nature of the university much more visible. You begin to realise that living alongside people from different backgrounds is not something you only experience in lecture theatres or induction sessions. It happens in kitchens, corridors, laundry rooms and lifts.
And while all of this is happening, your phone continues to fill up.
Messages are constantly streaming in from different platforms. Accommodation messages do not replace university communications, and you still have to maintain your usual contact with friends and family back home. You are trying to keep on top of several different forms of communication at once, without any of them knowing how much information you are already trying to process.
At some point, you also begin to understand the unwritten rules of everyday life: how to queue for the bus, how to behave in shared spaces and how to respect other people’s personal space.
I am used to saying “sorry” if I bump into someone, but others may simply walk away. I am used to a quick “hello” when you meet someone in a lift, but they may not respond.
Say it anyway what does it cost you?
These small acts of politeness, respect and consideration are part of who you are, even when they are not always returned.
You learn to navigate these differences by observing, asking when you are unsure and accepting that not everyone follows the same social rules. Everyone has headphones in. People have different routines. Sometimes you cannot even tell who is a student and who is a lecturer.
But you learn to be patient, adaptable and respectful. Perhaps that is part of learning to live around other people: understanding that they may do things differently without allowing their behaviour to change the values you choose to carry with you.
At the same time, one of the most interesting observations during those first few days is how everyone seems to know what they are doing.
But the truth is, they probably think you know what you are doing too.
None of you really does.
You are all just trying to stay grounded and find your way through the days ahead.
You have administrative requirements to complete. You might ask a colleague about something and discover that you actually have information they do not have. You share what you know. Then, in another conversation, they tell you something you did not know.
That is one of the useful things about meeting other PGRs and sharing contacts on that induction day. Everyone arrives with different experiences, different information and different understandings of how things work. You gradually begin to become more independent, not because someone gives you all the answers, but because you start learning from the people around you.
You may also have to repeat yourself occasionally because your accent does not sound familiar to someone and this goes both ways, so do not assume otherwise. If you care, as I expect all of us to, you start concentrating a little more carefully to understand what they are saying. Over time, you become more accustomed to the different ways people speak, just as they become accustomed to yours.
It is simply part of communicating with people from different places.
By this point, you have made notes, saved screenshots and links, and tried to follow some of them, while others inevitably slip through. Hopefully, you have also met your supervisor by this point, which begins to give some shape to the academic side of everything.
Until then, the university can feel like a very large landscape of departments, researchers, services, systems, buildings and information. Your supervisor provides a more direct connection to your own research journey. The conversations begin to give more shape to what initially feels like a very broad academic landscape.
You talk about the research, the direction you might take and the things you need to start thinking about.
You may not have everything figured out yet, but you begin to see where the next steps might be.
While all of this is happening, family back home naturally wants to know how things are going.
“Are you doing fine?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Sometimes that is all you really want to say.
Not necessarily because everything is difficult, but because you are several thousand miles away and you know that telling them every small uncertainty could make them unnecessarily concerned.
You want them to know that you are settling in, getting on with things and beginning this new chapter.
There is a lot happening, but there is also a growing sense that this is now your new environment.
For now, you take things one step at a time.
You keep learning. And then you discover that you can bring your meal from your dorm to the university and warm it up there at no extra cost. It is such a small convenience, but somehow, you find yourself thinking, how cool is that?
And then, almost without noticing, you find yourself becoming the person who knows what to do and where to go for whenever. You may still be learning, but now you are confidently telling your colleagues where to go, who to contact and what needs to be done. It is a strange but satisfying moment you arrived not knowing your way around, and suddenly, you are helping someone else find theirs.
The journey has started.
And by the next intake, you will know better. So, when the new students arrive, share what you have learned. Pay it forward.
Author bio:
I am a humanitarian practitioner with a professional background spanning refugee protection, humanitarian response, and sustainable development. I began my work with UNHCR Uganda in 2017 as a United Nations Volunteer and subsequently served as a locally recruited national staff member before stepping away from my professional role in August 2026 to pursue further academic study. Alongside my work with UNHCR, I have engaged with a range of national and international organisations on initiatives addressing broader issues of sustainable development, peacebuilding, community development, and social resilience. These experiences, particularly my direct engagement with refugees and host communities in both urban and settlement contexts, have shaped my interest in understanding how refugee identity and cultural diversity contribute to the development of resilient communities within humanitarian settings.
My motivation for this work is both professional and personal. Growing up in Northern Uganda, I witnessed the effects of conflict and displacement and the resilience required to rebuild communities and social relationships. This lived experience, together with my professional work in refugee protection and my academic background in human rights, local governance, community development, and international relations, has motivated me to explore these issues more deeply.
Through my research, I hope to contribute to scholarly debates on resilience and displacement while generating evidence that can inform policy and practice aimed at fostering inclusive, cohesive, and resilient communities in humanitarian settings.