How Nouha Kisra and Anna Hutchens (two medical students) turned a summer idea into Oxford’s newest humanitarian society
Credit: Nouha Kisra
They met on the second day of the first term. Two medical students at the same college, thrown together by timetable and tutorials, who discovered within weeks that they shared more than lecture notes. Both carried a quiet restlessness about medicine—a sense that healthcare shouldn’t stop at the hospital doors, that the skills they were learning had to reach beyond Oxford’s sandstone walls.
By the end of Trinity term, they were already talking about starting a society for like-minded students. Not just another society, but a platform that could channel student energy toward real change. The question was: how?
Finding MSF
The answer arrived unexpectedly, during a summer of research and possibility-mapping. While exploring options for global health engagement, one of them stumbled across Médecins Sans Frontières’ Friends program—a network allowing universities to establish fundraising chapters directly supporting MSF’s field operations.
“It was perfect,” one founder recalls. “MSF does such incredible work, and 98% of their funding comes from donations. As a university chapter, we could raise money, bring in speakers, and build awareness—all while staying connected to their humanitarian mission.”
The timing felt right. Oxford had societies focused on public health theory, on medical careers, and on academic discussion. But there was a gap: nowhere for undergraduates passionate about humanitarian medicine to actively contribute, to learn from practitioners, to fundraise for organisations working in conflict zones and crisis areas.
By late August, the decision was made. The society would launch in Michaelmas.
Building the Committee
Registration required a minimum of four committee members. The founders started with friends who shared their vision, enough to submit the initial forms to set up the organisation. However, when they opened applications via Instagram, expecting modest interest, something unexpected happened.
Within weeks, they had assembled a sixteen-person committee spanning colleges, year groups, and disciplines. Yes, many were medics, but there were also historians, politicians, and biochemists. Freshers joined alongside postgraduates. Doctors returning for further study expressed interest in getting involved.
“Our first committee meeting was genuinely surprising,” one founder says. “We thought we’d spent months thinking through every possible initiative. Within ten minutes, everyone was contributing ideas we’d never considered. Different perspectives, different experiences—it made everything richer.”
The diversity feels intentional. They didn’t want an insular medical society or an extension of a college friend group. Instead, they wanted keen, passionate people from across the university, united by shared values rather than shared social circles.
Staying True to the Mission
Ask them about their non-negotiables, and the answer comes quickly: staying true to MSF’s humanitarian principles.
“It’s easy to get excited about high-profile speakers or flashy events,” one founder acknowledges. “But the core mission—supporting neutral, independent medical aid in the world’s most difficult places—that has to remain central.”
MSF’s reputation rests on its ability to access areas other organisations cannot reach. In Gaza, in Sudan, where political affiliation can mean the difference between life and death, MSF’s neutrality and medical focus allow it to operate where others are turned away. The Oxford chapter sees its role as amplifying that work, raising funds and awareness without diluting the message.
It’s a careful balance: creating engaging programming for students while never losing sight of the warzone realities their fundraising supports.
Beyond the Committee Room
The founders are thinking bigger than membership lists. They’ve established a mailing list, built an Instagram presence, and begun reaching out to other colleges and societies. The marketing team is exploring collaborations with refugee health groups, public health societies, and college charity representatives.
The goal is to create overlapping networks of engagement: some students will attend speaker events, others will volunteer for fundraising initiatives, and the rest will simply follow along and donate when they can.
“Humanitarian work doesn’t require everyone to do the same thing,” one founder notes. “Some people will be deeply involved. Others will contribute in smaller ways. Both matter.”
The Long View
Where do they see society in five years?
“Fully established,” comes the immediate answer. “With a committee of people we’ve never met—students who are equally passionate but bringing completely new perspectives. A society that’s recognised across the university, that has genuine reach and impact.”
It’s an interesting answer. No ego of ownership, no desire to remain indispensable. Instead, a hope that the structure they’re building now will outlast them, evolve, and become something larger than its origins.
Both founders came to medicine through different routes. One grew up visiting hospitals each summer, sensing early that medicine and humanitarian work were inseparable. The other discovered the calling later, in secondary school, drawn by the combination of scientific rigour and direct human impact.
At Oxford, those paths converged. And in a university sometimes criticised for insularity, for being too focused on academic achievement and future careers, they’re creating something that looks outward—toward crisis zones, toward populations in desperate need of medical care, toward the kind of humanitarian work that doesn’t make headlines but saves lives daily.
Why Oxford Needed This
There’s untapped potential here, they argue. Medical students, particularly at the undergraduate level, are passionate about global health but have few avenues for meaningful engagement. Non-medical students interested in humanitarian logistics, policy, advocacy, or simply supporting good work.
“Oxford has incredibly bright, incredibly driven people,” one founder says. “But passion needs direction. We wanted to create a space where students interested in humanitarian medicine—whether as future doctors or in supporting roles—could explore that, learn from practitioners, contribute meaningfully, and connect with others who care about the same things.”
It’s also about exposure. Bringing field workers to speak, hosting discussions about the realities of medical aid delivery, and creating opportunities for students to understand what humanitarian work actually looks like.
The Practical and the Idealistic
There’s an interesting tension in their approach: deeply idealistic about humanitarian principles, entirely pragmatic about how to build a functioning society.
They talk about fundraising targets and social media strategy with the same seriousness they discuss MSF’s neutrality doctrine. They’re thinking about speaker programming, collaboration opportunities, and long-term sustainability. They know that passion alone doesn’t sustain organisations—structure does, alongside careful planning and willing volunteers.
But the idealism never disappears. It surfaces when they discuss why this matters, why they’re spending evenings in committee meetings and weekends planning events. It’s there in their description of MSF’s work, of field hospitals in impossible conditions, of medical staff who stay when others evacuate.
“That’s what we’re supporting,” one says simply. “Not the idea of humanitarian work. The actual work itself.”
What Comes Next
Michaelmas term has been about foundations: registering the society, building the committee, establishing social media presence, and planning initial events. Hilary term will bring speaker events, fundraising initiatives, and collaborations with other societies. By Trinity, they hope to have established rhythms—regular events, consistent engagement, a growing membership base.
The first conference in March will be revealing. Meeting other chapters, learning what’s worked elsewhere, building relationships with MSF staff—it’s the moment when this local initiative becomes part of something larger.
But even now, there’s momentum. The committee meetings overflow with ideas. Students from across the university are expressing interest. The network is forming, slowly, deliberately, with attention to both immediate impact and long-term sustainability.
It’s not the sound of instantaneous triumph, but a beginning. It’s the steady accumulation of small actions toward a significant goal. Meetings held, plans made, connections formed. The unglamorous, essential work of building something meant to last.
And in the background, always, the reason for it all: the field hospitals, the vaccination campaigns, the surgical units in war zones, the medical teams crossing borders to reach communities everyone else has forgotten.
That’s the work they’re supporting. That’s the mission they’re serving.
And for two medical students who met on the second day of term and decided Oxford needed this—it’s only just beginning.