
A Summer with the Brain and Mind Institute Aga Khan University, Nairobi, Kenya
By: Anaum Showkat, MS'25
There's a particular kind of energy that fills a room when people are genuinely excited to learn. I felt it on my first day at the Brain and Mind Institute (BMI) at Aga Khan University in Nairobi, Kenya, watching researchers lean forward in their chairs, interrupting each other with questions, staying long after meetings ended just to keep the conversation going. I felt it every single day after—a collective enthusiasm that turned routine research meetings into animated exchanges, that kept conversations going long after work hours, that transformed what could have been a standard internship into something I'm still trying to find words for.
I came to Nairobi to contribute my neuroimaging skills to BMI's crucial work on brain health and dementia research across East Africa. What I didn't anticipate was how much I would learn—not just about global health research, Stata coding, or navigating a new city, but about what it means to be part of a team where curiosity isn't just encouraged, it's the default state of being.
Building Something That Lasts
My primary objectives for the summer were to co-lead the BMI neuroimaging workshop alongside Dr. Thomas Thesen, neuroscientist and associate professor of medical education at Geisel, Dr. Karen Blackmon, clinical neuropsychologist and associate professor of psychiatry at Geisel, Camilo Castelblanco Riveros, a neuroscience PhD candidate at Geisel, and Bernard Alaka, a postdoctoral research fellow at BMI, as well as develop and deliver comprehensive FreeSurfer Quality Control training for the team, and collaborate with Dr. Blackmon on the International Brain Health Index (IBHI) normative reference development. The workshop became the centerpiece of my time there—a chance to share technical skills while learning from a team whose enthusiasm for research was unlike anything I'd encountered before.
For those unfamiliar, FreeSurfer is a software that processes MRI scans to measure brain structures—but it requires meticulous quality control to ensure the data is accurate. When I led the FreeSurfer training session, I expected questions—but I wasn't prepared for the depth of engagement. The BMI researchers didn't just want to know how to identify segmentation errors; they wanted to understand why those errors mattered, what they revealed about brain anatomy, and how they could impact clinical interpretations. Their questions pushed me to articulate concepts I thought I had mastered. I'd done FreeSurfer QC for months, but explaining why a segmentation error mattered, not just how to fix it, forced me to think more deeply about the anatomy, the implications, the reasoning behind each decision. They weren't just learning from me; they were teaching me to see my own expertise differently.
The workshop culminated in an interdisciplinary hackathon where we were divided into teams and given access to the complete Brain Resilience Kenya dataset. My team developed a research question investigating which brain features are most predictive of self-reported memory changes in mid to late adulthood, using multiple machine learning algorithms with cross-validation. It was the perfect demonstration of how quality-controlled FreeSurfer data can be used to address meaningful research questions—and how much more creative that work becomes when you're collaborating across disciplines.
Over the following weeks, I worked alongside BMI researchers through the entire QC pipeline—troubleshooting on individual laptops, developing consensus protocols, and creating certification exams. We would lean over to each other's screens, debating the best approach to a particularly tricky temporal lobe segmentation.
I created a comprehensive training manual and uploaded it to the Neuroscience-Informed Learning and Education (NILE) lab wiki—a permanent resource for future researchers. But more meaningful than any document was watching the team develop confidence with these technical skills, knowing they'd continue this work long after I left.
Research Beyond Borders
Parallel to the workshop preparation and training, I collaborated closely with Dr. Blackmon on developing normative references for the IBHI. This work required careful Stata analysis to identify cognitively healthy participants across multiple study waves—excluding those with neurological conditions while preserving comparison groups for validation. The technical precision mattered because the work matters—these tools could eventually help identify dementia risk across diverse populations where such resources are scarce. I also completed literature reviews of the 10/66 Dementia Research Group studies, analyzing methodology and findings across multiple countries, and attended webinars on Adverse Childhood Experiences and AI futures.

But the real education happened in the spaces between formal work. It happened over tea when a colleague would explain the challenges of dementia diagnosis in resource-limited settings. It happened during casual conversations about how to make neuroimaging research sustainable without constant international support. It happened in the way the BMI team celebrated small victories—a clean dataset, a successful segmentation, a breakthrough in understanding.
Beyond the Lab
Nairobi itself became part of my education. The view from AKU's campus, where modern research facilities overlook a city of extraordinary complexity and vitality. The rhythm of days that began with analysis and often ended with running into other AKU interns at lunch or sharing the shuttle back to our apartment. Having my fellow Dartmouth peer, Mia Jimenez, MED'28, in Nairobi with me made the transition so much easier—we both worked at BMI and lived together, which meant I had someone who understood both the research and the adjustment to a new country. There was comfort in processing the day over dinner or discussing our projects on the shuttle ride home. These random meetups with other interns—swapping stories about our different departments, comparing notes on navigating the city, just existing in the same space after intense workdays—became some of my favorite parts of the experience.

On weekends, Kenya revealed itself in ways that textbooks never could. Maasai Mara offered its endless golden grasslands, wildlife moving in ancient patterns, and the generosity of Maasai hosts who welcomed us into their village. Standing in that landscape with fellow interns, I felt the sharp clarity that comes from being completely present.
These moments—watching a lioness at sunset, learning from Maasai hosts, navigating Nairobi's vibrant streets—weren't separate from the work. They were part of understanding what it means to do research that matters to real communities, in real places, with real stakes.
What I'm Taking Home
I'm returning to the US with ongoing projects—the FreeSurfer QC work continues, as does the IBHI normative reference development. But the technical deliverables aren't what I think about most.
I think about the BMI team's genuine excitement when someone grasped a difficult concept. I think about how they taught me that the best research environments aren't the ones with the most resources, but the ones where people genuinely want to learn from each other. I think about how every day felt energizing because we were all invested—not just in our individual projects, but in each other's growth.

This summer arrived at exactly the right moment in my academic journey. I needed to remember why neuroimaging research matters beyond publications and datasets. I needed to see what happens when technical expertise meets genuine curiosity and collaborative spirit. I needed to understand that the most sophisticated research tool we have isn't software or algorithms—it's people who care enough to keep asking questions.
The BMI team gave me something rare: a vision of what research culture can be when learning itself becomes the driving force. I'm leaving Nairobi changed—not just by what I learned, but by who I learned it with. Now, as I begin my work as a clinical researcher at Yale with hopes of becoming a physician, I'm carrying forward the hope that I can help create that same energy, that same joy in learning, in every research environment and clinical space I enter.


