UP lecturer Dr Thabi Soul chats about the life lessons that she has learnt through her work as a forensic pathologist.

Dr Thabi Soul realised in the early years of her life that she wasn’t scared of the dead. She was 16 years old when she found out about pathology, the branch of medicine that deals with the deceased. Now she’s a specialist forensic pathologist for the Gauteng Department of Health’s Forensic Pathology Services, and a lecturer and programme leader of the BSc (Hons) Medical Criminalistics course at the University of Pretoria (UP).

Two vivid childhood memories cemented her conviction about pursuing pathology, Dr Soul says.

“My maternal grandmother had a stroke in the latter years of her life, and subsequently developed paralysis on one half of her face,” she recalls. “Upon her death, to present her mortal remains to us as her family, the undertaker prepared her face such that her tongue stuck out between her teeth and out her mouth. This was done in an effort to align her face in light of the facial paralysis. It did, however, somewhat ridicule the sombre moment. Her face was in stark contrast to the no-nonsense, respected matriarch that my grandmother was. I never forgot that image;  as a result, I wanted to become a mortician to give people dignity in death.”

Her second memory is of a scene in the 90s movie My Girl.

“There was scene inside a funeral home where one of the characters was putting on make-up and doing the hair of an elderly woman whose funeral it was. This confirmed the idea of a job that involved preparing human remains for burial, though at the time, I was unsure how it would manifest.

At high school, she excelled academically and enjoyed biology as a subject, and began to toy with the idea of studying medicine.

“When I was 16, I found out that there was a branch of medicine that deals with the dead and that it was called pathology,” Dr Soul says. “So I wrote a letter addressed to God to indicate that I wanted to be a pathologist when I grow up, because I wasn’t scared of dead people. I had forgotten about the letter until my late mother found it at home after I’d commenced my studies in forensic pathology. While the extent of what pathology entailed was not clear to me back then, all I knew was that I wasn’t scared of dead people.”

Her field of work can be emotionally and psychologically challenging. Yet, however taxing it may get, it does have rewards and highlights, Dr Soul says.

“Forensic pathology aims to give medical answers to questions of the law. As such, it is rewarding when some of those answers lead to justice for victims of crimes. I recall one such case I was involved in of an unknown woman found dead on the outskirts of Pretoria. Through collecting biological samples, a positive match was made through the DNA database to a suspect who was subsequently found guilty of her rape and murder. The woman was also positively identified, and the family could give her a dignified burial. The case highlighted the benefits of DNA evidence in bringing about justice, and was presented at the 2023 DNA Hit of the Year Programme.”

This programme highlights the work of forensic DNA professionals around the world by showcasing the cases they helped solve with the help of forensic DNA. 

Dr Soul says that much like parenting, eating or living well, taking care of one’s mental health is a lifelong journey that requires commitment and consistency.

“While I’m not always consistent at this, I strive to maintain a few habits that are integral to my holistic mental health. I have regular check-ins with my therapist, who has helped me tremendously, particularly in managing my grief after my mom’s passing. I find frequent walks and/or exercise particularly useful in keeping my head clear. Journalling is extremely important to me. I have benefitted immensely from documenting my feelings, thoughts, dreams and aspirations. And finally, play-time with my three-year-old son is a good way to unwind and stimulate my creativity.”

With all that her work exposes her to, Dr Soul says the lesson she has learnt from her work as a pathologist is that, contrary to popular belief, death is not an equaliser.

“As a sixth-year medical student (at the University of Cape Town), I was tasked with interviewing a patient admitted to Groote Schuur Hospital to learn more about his heart condition,” she says. “Our interview was cut short when his two little children came running into the ward to visit him. I went back the following day to continue the interview only to find the curtains around his bed drawn and his body covered with a bed sheet. My mind immediately went to the smiling faces of his children, and I was filled with sadness for them. It is often said that death is the ultimate equaliser. Having seen the many ways in which people die, often with intense cruelty at the hands of another, I realised that death itself is not equal. It’s the grief from the loss of a loved one that unites us.”