When Tomi Akingbade began applying for PhDs after graduating in 2019, she was certain of one thing: she wanted to build a career in science that made a tangible difference in people's lives. What she wasn’t certain of was whether the academic world would make room for her.

Now, in 2026, she is completing her PhD, after researching how the immune system behaves in neurodegenerative diseases such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. But this outcome was far from guaranteed. In fact, Tomi is clear that without a timely scholarship opportunity, she would not be where she is today.

“It was a lifeline,” she says simply. “I was at a crossroads, and it made this option a lot more possible for me.”

Tomi’s science journey started with her undergraduate degree in neuroscience, during which she took a year-long research placement. While lectures and exams were part of the experience, the hands-on lab work truly captured her attention.

“I realised that a career in science could be something I’d be really interested in pursuing,” she recalls. During the placement, she worked on identifying biomarkers in patients with Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease, collaborating closely with a clinician who then used the work to inform how she treated her patients. “Little 18- or 19-year-old me thought, this is cool,” she says. “I could get paid to do this?”

That realisation led her to the conclusion that a PhD would likely be necessary to pursue the kind of applied, impactful research she wanted to do. After graduating, the path forward proved difficult. Tomi found herself navigating a system that often assumes access to unpaid internships, placements, and financial support.

“I didn’t have the opportunity or the resources to do unpaid internships,” she explains. “I worked during my summers. I found myself having to have that conversation quite a few times.”

By 2021, after years of applications, she was close to giving up. She identified a project at Cambridge that genuinely excited her, working with Professor David Klenerman on imaging Alzheimer’s disease aggregates and their interaction with the immune system. He was keen to have her in the lab, but there was no funding available.

“I was quite determined, but also quite sure in my mind that I wasn’t going to be able to pursue it,” she says. “It had been three years. I thought, if it’s not working after this, I might just stop here.”

Then, unexpectedly, an email changed everything. Klenerman forwarded Tomi information about the Alexander Crummell Scholarships at Queens’. He encouraged her to apply, and let her know that if she could get the funding, she would have a place in the lab.

Tomi applied, was awarded the scholarship, and began her PhD that September. Looking back, the timing still astonishes her. “If the Crummell Scholarships hadn’t come out that year, I definitely wouldn’t have applied to Cambridge,” she says. “It just felt too far out of my remit.”

Today, Tomi’s research focuses on how the immune system changes when illness becomes chronic rather than temporary—a key question in neurodegenerative diseases, where patients progressively worsen rather than recover.

“I’m looking at what changes in your immune system, and why it doesn’t protect you in those kinds of diseases,” she explains. While the day-to-day reality of lab work can seem mundane, the bigger picture keeps her motivated. “The long hours and weekends are only worth it if there are actual humans being impacted by it.”

That focus on people, rather than prestige or titles, has guided her throughout her PhD. It has also shaped how she views the impact of the scholarship itself; beyond financial security, it provided access, belonging, and stability.

“It meant I could focus on the research and not think about where the money was going to come from,” she says. “It also gave me a link to the College that I wouldn’t otherwise have had.” Practical support, from funding consumables to replacing a failing laptop, made a tangible difference. “I could just be in Cambridge and do my research.”

Perhaps most importantly, the scholarship expanded her sense of what was possible. “I have more access to opportunities now,” she reflects. “Before, I wouldn’t even try to apply for certain things. Now I know I could do that tomorrow if I wanted to.”

“I’m very aware that it could have gone a very different way,” she continues, “If someone hadn’t taken five seconds to forward an email, I wouldn’t be at Cambridge.”

It’s that awareness that has fuelled her work beyond the lab. Back in 2018, Tomi founded the Black Women in Science Network, after struggling to find role models who looked like her. What began as a simple twitter account, searching for community, has grown into a globally recognised platform connecting Black women in science and highlighting opportunities.

“Black women don’t need additional help being good scientists,” Tomi explains. “We just need the removal of barriers.”

It is a philosophy that mirrors her experience with the Alexander Crummell Scholarship: one timely intervention removed a barrier that could have ended her academic journey altogether. To future applicants, her advice is unequivocal: apply.

“The worst you can hear is no,” she says, simply. “If I hadn’t applied, nobody would have known I existed to forward that email to.”

For donors and supporters of the scholarships, she hopes one message is clear. “They’ve given a lifeline,” she insists. “It wasn’t just funding, it was life-changing.”

As Tomi looks ahead to the next stages of her career, she carries that knowledge with her. The chance opportunities that once shaped her path are now something she hopes to make less necessary for others, by building systems where talent, rather than luck, determines who gets to stay.