The Cambridge literary scene is vibrant and lively – during her degree, student-poet Sam Elbahja created her own corner of that culture. It’s March 2025 when her society ‘Give Us The Mic’ hosts an event at Magdalene College. Sam, the host herself, is strikingly bubbly and has a natural knack for performing poems. She recites one of her own, her tone confident, her rhymes flowing. A month later, Sam publishes her first book, naked pen.

Publishing a book and graduating in the same year definitely requires a great amount of commitment, discipline, and strength. But does it also imply sacrificing parts of the university experience? With a radiant smile, Sam tells me that “third year is so intense […], but I didn’t want to sacrifice half of everything; I wanted to publish and graduate to the best of my abilities. It was worth the hard work!”

“I didn’t want to sacrifice half of everything; I wanted to publish and graduate to the best of my abilities”

Even though poetry and architecture might seem distant disciplines, Sam explains the connection she found between the two. “To a certain extent, I consider poetry quite academically rigorous, so there is a direct connection between poetry and architectural precision. When I search for an intersectionality and dig deeper, I find points where artistic and poetic rigour are as appreciated as architectural technicalities.”

“Publishing was a dream of mine,” she says, looking at the ceiling. “During poetry events I always brought my poetry notebook with me – people often asked me if they could read them. I knew that someday those poems were going to be published and available to everyone.”

The lowercase title of Sam’s book immediately captures the observer’s attention. When asked whether there is meaning behind it, Sam laughs. “Every part of my book was meticulously thought-out”. She clarifies what kind of role she wanted to give to her book: “it was meant to create a relatable aspect with the reader which allows it to be more like a journal than a cold and detached book. My title simulates an ongoing conversation, a stream of consciousness. I also left a space inside the last pages of the book, which can be filled with readers’ creativity. This way, my anthology becomes personal for everyone – it creates a unique connection with people.”

“Every part of my book was meticulously thought-out”

Last July, after graduating, Sam left Cambridge promising herself to keep her joy alive: “I carry with myself the magic and the love I found in Cambridge during the writing process of my book. I only realised that my degree journey was over when I looked at the ceiling of Senate House during the graduation ceremony. I already knew that once I came back to Cambridge as an alumna, I would not be a part of the hustle of the city in the same way, but I accepted it.”

Sam explains that she doesn’t want to be overwhelmed or saddened by the nostalgia of finishing a journey. Instead, she wants to appreciate the excitement of her future. “I want to perceive university as the starting point of my career. I left it feeling complete: I did what I’d dreamt of for my whole life and I will always remember my years at Cambridge as the most magical time”. The city influenced her life as well as the writing and editing process of naked pen: “Cambridge has a magic in itself that keeps you inspired and helps you find who you really are, not just as a student, but also as an individual.”

Reflecting on her journey and her achievements, I wonder what Sam would have told to her fresher self. Her answer can also be seen as a universal imperative: “Keep doing what you’re doing! Be curious, be inquisitive, have those big dreams!”