Luria Leslie Founou
BIO
Researcher in maternal and child health at CEDBCAM Research Institute and career coach at D2AFRICA (Cameroon). Mother of two.
”I struggled to find role models of successful African women in STEM who were balancing their careers with family life.”
When I was completing my Master’s in Clinical Biology in Cameroon back in 2013, I looked forward to the independence that would come with working and caring for my future loving family. I dreamed of having at least five children, a full basketball team, because of my deep passion for sports. At the time, pursuing a PhD wasn’t on my radar.
I struggled to find role models of successful African women in STEM who were balancing their careers with family life. The few women I knew who pursued a PhD often did so without children or partners, and they seemed to navigate challenging family relationships. This disparity made me uncomfortable. I feared that starting a family would mean sacrificing my aspirations for an academic career, and that I would have to choose between a PhD and a fulfilling family life.
I now realize that nothing could have prepared me for the choices I made, and I’m not entirely sure I fully understood the implications of those choices at the time. However, everything changed when I graduated alongside my fiancé, who later became my husband. He had a strong desire to pursue a PhD to fulfill his own purpose, and he encouraged me to consider the same path. I was talented and young, with immense potential that I hadn’t dared to explore fully.
Eventually, I secured a PhD scholarship at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa. My supervisor and mentor was an inspiring professor who managed a research unit and an entire college with incredible zeal and efficiency, all while actively participating in her family life. She would drop her child off at school, which was a revelation for me—it was possible to have it all, even if it was challenging. This realization lit a fire in me to chase my dreams.
I completed my PhD in just three years, achieving exceptional productivity, and gave birth to my first son in 2018. I vividly remember traveling from Cameroon to South Africa for my graduation when he was just one week old. After graduation, I embraced my new role as a mother while continuing my research. I was fortunate to have a nanny for the first six months, but that arrangement didn't last. Thankfully, my mother-in-law volunteered to care for my son during my work hours for nearly a year. A year and a half later, I welcomed my second son.
During my second pregnancy, I experienced firsthand the stark realities of maternal health in Cameroon. I witnessed the tragic loss of families whose babies either died during delivery or shortly thereafter. Two of my classmates, both healthcare professionals and pregnant at the same time as me, tragically lost their children during labor or in the first week after birth. One of them nearly lost her life. I grappled with an existential crisis, questioning why I was among the few fortunate enough to have a healthy child while others faced such profound loss. This injustice fueled my resolve to ensure that my children would not grow up in a world where having a healthy child seemed like a privilege.
This experience inspired a pivotal shift in my research focus. I moved away from food safety, where I had been highly productive for five years, including during my PhD, to concentrate on maternal, newborn, and child health. Since then, I have secured significant funding to realize my vision of creating a better world for my children.
Navigating this journey has been made much easier thanks to my support system: my husband, who is also a full-time researcher, my family, friends, mentors, and collaborators. They have helped me navigate this path with confidence.
In Africa, it’s often easier to raise children due to stronger family support systems. In Europe, however, it requires patience and self-care as family is not always nearby, and financial constraints can pose challenges. I find myself scheduling my children's activities in my calendar just like meetings, striving to attend their school functions and weekend events.
Being a mother in STEMM sometimes means turning down invitations to conferences because childcare isn’t available or working late at night while the rest of the family sleeps. My children may be too young to fully articulate it, but I know they sense the sacrifices involved in raising them; their love and support reflect that understanding.
Some of my decisions, like launching a YouTube channel, were inspired by discussions with my youngest child, who was just four at the time. It reminds me that everything I do is part of a legacy I am creating for my children and future generations.
Being a mother in STEMM has become my superpower. I strive to be a superhero for my kids, and I believe all women, especially those in STEMM, are superheroes who should never settle for less than they deserve.