I remember learning the story behind the name R.W James in one of my first-year physics lectures. How he battled storms at sea, survived against the odds, and went on to become a pioneer of physics in South Africa. I was mesmerised by the scale of that legacy and by what it meant to have a building named after you at a university like UCT. His journey took place a century ago, at a time when no women held such honours. And when I looked around, at the postgraduates, the lecturers, the researchers in the very building bearing his name, I found myself asking, how much has changed?
When I first walked into the RW James Building as an eager first-year student, I didn’t quite know the waters I was stepping into. I had just switched degrees and was fueled by the excitement of pursuing something larger than life. All I had was my will and the quiet hope that perhaps I belonged here. Because I didn’t intend to study physics originally, I’ve often asked myself, when did I decide not to consider it in the first place? Maybe it was the pressure to pursue a more “practical” or stable career path that quieted my curiosity. Perhaps it was the guidance counsellors who encouraged my strategy-driven ambitions in business. Or maybe, deep down, I never believed that a degree (and a future) in physics was a viable option for someone like me. As the years passed, I came to realise that I wasn’t alone in that feeling: many of the women in my class had followed similarly winding, uncertain paths into physics. In fact, a few in my class similarly switched degrees to end up here.
As our first year rolled into the second, and then third, our numbers dropped — and with them, the number of women in my class. I find myself both saddened by that drop-off and discouraged by how invisible women still seem in this space. As a third-year, I still hesitate to claim my place on the “North side” of campus, the science side. That hesitation was something, it seems, many of my female classmates quietly echoed. Beyond the complex theories and difficult problem sets we worked through, there was a different kind of challenge: the unspoken weight of being one of the few women in the room. To paint the picture more glaringly: For physics majors at UCT, there is only one female lecturer throughout the three-year degree. Currently, the postgraduate Honours class of 2025 has only one woman. Choosing to stay at UCT for postgraduate studies seems daunting when there are few female researchers, lecturers, or even postgraduate students in the building. That reality remains hard to ignore. With so few mentors in sight, staying in the physics course requires more than just intellectual stamina; it takes a steady internal compass to keep heading north.
Few have come before us as women in the field, and this makes the journey require extra grit. For two inspiring women in the UCT Physics Department, this truth underpins their own stories. It motivates the Women in Physics events they’ve organised at UCT: one designed to change things for future female physicists to come. These events were introduced this year, with one planned per term, and I am already seeing a difference in confidence and connection among the years. These young women don’t feel alone at sea. The Women in Physics events at UCT were founded by master’s student Jemma Bagg and lecturer Dr. Daphney Bucher.
Jemma Bagg, a master’s student at the University of Cape Town, is the primary driver behind these events. She is currently studying under the UCT-CERN team. Like many female students, she has questioned her place in the department. However, her ambition and determination to root herself in the field she loves are nothing short of admirable. Jemma is a student herself who values and represents what the students are looking for in a university department.
After attending conferences held by WAFIRA (Women Advancement Forum International Exchanges, Research and Academia) and AIMS (African Institute for Mathematical Sciences), Jemma began to dream of creating a similar space, albeit on a smaller scale, at UCT. Although the university previously hosted a Women in Physics luncheon in August to celebrate Women’s Month, annually funded and supported by the official WiPiSA (Women in Physics in South Africa), this was primarily a blanket event. It included all women of the RW James Building, and sometimes even extended to chemistry majors. But what Jemma also pointed out to me was that many of the conferences she was invited to attend targeted postgraduate students. As a result, outreach to undergraduate students is limited. She was smart in narrowing her target audience to undergraduate female physics students, because given the small class sizes, the events become more individualised.
Inspired by the style of the luncheon (where students eat, mingle, and listen to talks from professionals), the Women in Physics events were born. However, what Jemma aimed to do differently was to envision the events as interactive workshops designed to foster a consistent and responsive community that evolves alongside students’ needs. So far, both events this year have focused on sharing experiences and breaking down the walls between cohorts. Having attended both events, it was eye-opening to write down personal doubts, stories, and goals that were pinned to the whiteboard in front and mirrored by the other responses from the women in the room.
So far, the speakers invited to these events have addressed topics ranging from industry to research, and Jemma has emphasised her desire to expose younger students to the realities of being a woman in physics. Since the events have primarily attracted second and third-year students, discussions around future opportunities and the challenges they face have resonated deeply. This makes sense, given the rarity of women in the field and the uncertainty many feel about whether physics is a viable long-term career.
For Jemma, her Honours year was characterised by feelings of isolation and demotivation, largely due to the absence of a strong, supportive community. This experience reflects a broader trend where many women leave the field after their undergraduate studies. But these new events will hopefully slowly change that. With one held each term, they are beginning to take on a life of their own, with attendees continuing the conversations afterwards and encouraging others to join. Sometimes, all it takes is one woman to start a ripple that becomes a wave.
As a regular attendee, I hope these events foster a culture of collaboration and confidence, ensuring that every woman feels a sense of belonging. Maybe, in time, this will change the statistics of women pursuing postgraduate physics. Looking ahead, I often wonder whether this kind of initiative could inspire something similar across other faculties. On the one hand, the gender gap exists in other majors too; on the other, the strength of these events lies in their focus on physics-specific community and solidarity. For now, Jemma and I both see the value in a possible crossover event.
One particularly moving story from the Women in Physics events is a full-circle moment: Jemma and Dr Daphney Bucher invited a remarkable woman in the field, Prof Zinhle Buthelezi, someone who had inspired Jemma herself to study physics, to speak. Years earlier, Zinhle was a part of an outreach program teaching physics and other science-related materials to senior primary and high school students. As a young girl, Jemma attended, unaware of the future collaboration they’d share. Prof Buthelezi, who has a long history with iThemba LABS and travels there frequently, continues to make an effort to do as much outreach work as possible. This opens up exciting possibilities for future university partnerships, perhaps even involving current UCT students in these outreach efforts across South Africa. I, for one, will be signing up to help however I can.
Dr. Daphney Bucher, a senior lecturer in the UCT Physics Department specialising in nuclear physics, is one of the driving forces behind the Women in Physics events. After Jemma Bagg expressed her vision for the initiative, Daphney threw her full support behind it, assisting with planning, coordinating, and guiding it into existence. But beneath her clear support and steady presence lies a remarkable story of resilience, vision, and grit.
Born in the small village of Ngwenani Ha Mapholi in Limpopo, Dr Bucher grew up walking six kilometres to school in the neighbouring village every day. Nights spent under dim candlelight doing homework, and her fascination with learning powered her through high school. It was also here that, in many ways, her early interest in electricity was piqued. A notable and touching story from high school was also one where her uniform was accidentally burned, and without being able to afford a new set, young Daphney attended school in her regular clothes. This was until a classmate offered her an old, ill-fitting uniform, an act of kindness that stayed with her.
Dr Bucher, right from the very start, carried a deep drive to learn fiercely in her heart. She set out to North-West University with the help of her mother’s funding to enrol in a Bachelor of Science majoring in mathematics and electronics. She had initially hoped to study computer science. However, when the university didn’t offer the program, she chose the next best thing—one that still let her tinker with circuits and fuel her passion for electronics. With help from the National Student Financial Aid Scheme (NSFAS), she began her tertiary education journey. After completing her bachelor’s degree, she faced pressure to start working to support her family, but her dream was to continue her studies. Her electronics lecturer had told her about a fully funded scholarship at the African Institute for Mathematical Sciences (AIMS) in Muizenberg. She applied and was accepted, which marked a turning point in her life.
It was at AIMS that her fascination with electricity led her to nuclear physics. Load shedding in South Africa had sparked her curiosity, and she learned that a career in nuclear physics could bring her into the world of energy production and research at Eskom’s Koeberg Nuclear Power Station. This interest ultimately led her to iThemba LABS, where she completed her master’s through UCT. At iThemba, she made an impression with both her determination and her intellectual courage. Not once throughout her educational journey has Dr Daphney Bucher backed down from a challenge. Later, Daphney earned her PhD from Stellenbosch University and is currently a lecturer and researcher at UCT in nuclear physics. It is here that I see her nurture other young minds.
Beyond academia, Daphney’s heart remains with the communities she came from. She continues to support learners from under-resourced schools by buying school uniforms, knowing firsthand how not having one can crush a child’s confidence. Her compassion, generosity, and brilliance make her a true role model for young women in science. She is a force that reminds you just how revolutionary education is.
Today, she plays a key role in research at iThemba LABS and continues to inspire others through her work and mentorship. In our conversations, Daphney spoke candidly about the tension between teaching and research, ultimately finding joy in the personal relationships built through supervising students. But her talent for community-building and her rich life story make her an irreplaceable part of the Women in Physics events, and of the UCT physics community at large.
These stories of Jemma, Daphney, and the young women attending the Women in Physics events reveal a powerful truth: representation matters. When women in science are seen, heard, and supported, they don’t just persist; they thrive. Initiatives like this create a ripple effect, offering younger students not just a seat at the table but a space where their questions, ambitions, and even their uncertainties are welcomed. The presence of women at all stages of the academic journey, whether mentoring, organising, or simply showing up, helps dismantle the myth that physics is reserved for a select few.
The Women in Physics events at UCT are still young, but their impact is already being felt. More than just gatherings, they show how community, collaboration, and courage keep the circuit alive. With the university’s support, the path forward in physics feels less daunting. More importantly, these efforts help women in science claim space in lecture halls and labs. A building once grounded in the legacy of a man now echoes with the voices of women reshaping its future:
