SPEECH BY THE VALEDECTORIAN, RONAK VINODRAY SOLANKI, DURING THE COMMENCEMENT CEREMONY OF THE CLASS OF 2025 HELD ON SEPTEMBER 27, 2025

The Chief Guest, Ambassador Dennis Awori, Board of Trustees, University Council, Management Board, University Senate, faculty, students, staff, and alumni present, parents and guardians, distinguished ladies and gentlemen, and the Graduating Class of 2025.

Good Morning.

When I was a child, I used to imagine graduation as a single, shining moment: walking across a stage, wearing a gown, receiving a degree, and smiling for the cameras. But now that we are here, I realize graduation is not just a moment; it is a patchwork. It is built from countless small sacrifices, sleepless nights, fears conquered, friendships made, and lessons learned. Each of us carries our own unique pieces, and together, they form the beautiful picture that is the Class of 2025.

A week ago, I received an email from the university, it was short, but its message carried enormous weight: I was selected as this year’s valedictorian. For a moment, I froze. Along with the joy came a deep sense of fear because I had only one and a half days to write this speech. I thought to myself, what can I possibly say that is worthy of this honor?

And then I smiled. Because I realized that I have not been preparing for this speech on paper, I have been preparing for it throughout my entire journey here. Every late night, every exam, every friendship formed, and every hardship endured has been a rehearsal for this moment.

Three years ago, I earned my very first 4.0 GPA, and some of my friends teased me saying “Here comes the future valedictorian!” At the time, it felt like a joke. But it planted a seed in me. We would laugh and even playfully rehearse what I might say. Quietly, I told myself: Yes, I want this, I will work for this. And one day, I will stand on the graduation square. And now, here I am. But this stage, this microphone, this honor - it is not just about me. It is about us. It is about the graduating class of 2025, and the remarkable journey we have all walked together.

We survived the chaos of group projects, where one person carried the weight while another’s greatest effort was signing the cover page. Those moments taught us patience, resilience, and maybe even forgiveness.

We wrestled with term papers stretching 10, 12, even 15 pages, navigating endless citations, formatting rules, and SafeAssign reports we refreshed with pounding hearts. And now, even this very speech must pass through SafeAssign, proof that diligence has been our constant companion all the way to graduation.

We endured the notorious Respondus Browser, where even a glance away felt like a crime. And yes, we remember the professors who promised, “The exam will be easy,” only for the questions to feel like they came from another universe.

And who can forget our first days in the library, piling books as if we’d read them all, only to return most of them untouched at semester’s end? Still pristine, but a symbol of the ambition we carried.

And then, there were the lighter, almost humorous companions along the way. Who among us will forget those late nights when, desperate for help, we turned to ChatGPT? Whether it was brainstorming essays, revising drafts, or simply reminding us that we were not alone in our struggle, it became our unofficial classmate, the one who never missed a deadline, never said “no,” and never judged our panic at 2 a.m.

These experiences, some frustrating and some funny, remind us of a deeper truth: our story as graduates is not one of individual victory, but of shared survival, shared resilience, and shared growth.

Yet, I must pause here and ask a question that weighs deeply on my heart: What if the person most deserving of the title valedictorian never received it? What if the true valedictorian is not standing on this stage, but those quietly seated among us today?

If I could share this honor, I would give it to the student who stayed up after long shifts just to finish an assignment; to the one who typed essays on a cracked phone screen or borrowed an old laptop that froze every few minutes; to the classmate who sold handmade crafts, food, or anything they could, just to cover fees; to those who rose before dawn, squeezed into overcrowded buses, walked miles under scorching heat or pouring rain, yet still made it to class with determination.

I would recognize the students who studied with heavy hearts, carrying grief or personal struggles, yet refusing to give up. Those who were not just students, but also providers, juggling schoolwork with the responsibility of putting food on the table. Those who sometimes stumbled on a test, not out of neglect, but because of hunger or exhaustion claimed the night before. They may not hold this title, but they hold my deepest respect.

There are classmates here who had to be their own families — students who lost a parent, or both parents, during their studies; students who raised younger siblings, making decisions no one their age should ever have to make. Their perseverance humbles us.

And then, there are the unsung heroes behind every graduate here. The single parents who worked multiple jobs to keep their children in school. The grandparents who became both guardians and providers. The migrant workers who missed birthdays, graduations, and milestones, sending money from far away so that their sons and daughters could have a better future. The families who never wore caps and gowns themselves, but made sure we would.

I also know that for many of us, the cap and gown we wear today will not remain on our heads for long. After the ceremony, many graduates will take them off and hand them to the very people who made this moment possible — the parents, guardians, and loved ones who supported us every step of the way. In doing so, we acknowledge that this achievement is not ours alone; it is a shared triumph, a symbol of their sacrifices, their love, and their unwavering belief in our potential.

Before I conclude, allow me to honor the many hands and hearts behind this moment. To the parents and guardians, thank you for your sacrifices, your faith, and your unconditional love. To those watching from afar, you are with us in spirit. To those remembered only in memory, your legacy carries us forward. To our professors, mentors, janitors, guards, and staff, thank you for your service, often unseen but always felt.

To my fellow graduates

Today, we close one chapter, but we are not closing the book. The world outside these gates is waiting, not just for our knowledge, but for our courage, our compassion, and our creativity. And as we step forward, let us remember that sometimes the greatest victory is not in standing here as valedictorian, but in refusing to sink despite the waves. Persistence, not perfection, is the true measure of success. The degrees we hold are not simply certificates of education; they are responsibilities: to lead with integrity, to innovate with purpose, and to serve with humility. As Denzel Washington wisely said, “If you don’t fail, you’re not truly trying.” To achieve what we have never had, we must dare to do what we have never done, to take risks, to embrace challenges, and to rise even when the odds are stacked against us.

Congratulations, Class of 2025, we have reached the summit. But let us never forget, we did not climb alone. I invite every graduate to rise for a standing ovation, not for us, but for the true heroes in our journey: our parents, guardians, siblings, and families. Because if we are the graduates, they are the reason we could graduate.

Thank you!