Hurst Campus Graduation 2026
We were honoured to speak to the Class of 2025 at their graduation.
Watching the next generation of chefs step into their future is always special.
Here’s the speech we shared with these incredible young chefs:
“Good morning everyone, Thank you so much for having us here today. It’s an honour to stand in this room — a room filled with graduates, families, lecturers, mentors, and the people who carried you through some of the most demanding years of your lives. We’ll start at the beginning. In 2012, two girls from Pretoria were accepted into a school that was then known as The Culinary Academy. We were just that — two girls with a dream, a lot of hope, and very little understanding of what we were walking into.
We first heard about this school in early 2011, when Ilze and chef Ronan visited our high school hospitality class in Pretoria. They did a demonstration where they deboned this large piece of Salmon — we still remember how cool and inspiring it was. But what stayed with us most wasn’t the demo. It was the conversation that followed. At the end of the lesson, we gravitated toward this beautiful, tall lady and started asking questions about the school and what it had to offer. She answered every question with patience and care. And then she asked us one question in return: “What would you like to be?” We said, “Event planners.” She wrote it down in her little notebook next to our contact details. And that was it. From that moment on, we knew — we had to come to this school.We bothered our mom about it for months until she finally agreed to let us apply.
Then one Saturday, she drove us to Johannesburg for our interview with Mrs Leonie Barnard. On the way there, our car broke down. We arrived incredibly late and were convinced that was the end of the road for us. But Mrs Barnard waited. To this day, we can’t remember a single question she asked in that interview because we were so nervous. But we do know this — the rest is history. At the time, we didn’t fully understand what hospitality meant. But looking back now, we realise we were already experiencing it.
Hospitality is not just about service. It’s about care. It’s about making people feel seen, safe, and welcomed — often before they even ask for it. After we were accepted, the administrators of the school began helping our mom with accommodation options. They connected us with other students living nearby so we could share transport. They reassured her, guided her, and made sure we were taken care of before we even arrived in the Western Cape. By the time we got here, we already felt at home. And that’s saying a lot — because we were scared little cats. Anyone who knew us back then will tell you: we were shy, quiet, sheltered, and terrified. We had never lived away from home before. But we were academics at heart, so we felt prepared for the theory — or so we thought.
We could go on and on about the incredible facilities, the educators, and the staff — but we know you didn’t come here today to hear about us. You came here to graduate. Like you, we went through it all. The classes. The practicals. The industry exposure. The long hours. The shockingly tough jobs. When we arrived, we didn’t even have driver’s licences. We didn’t have a car, and we thought we didn’t need one. But Rebecca wouldn’t hear of it. She gave us a deadline and told us we needed to get our licences by the end of the semester. That was terrifying. We had never sat behind a steering wheel in our lives.She also encouraged us to get weekend jobs so we could start building connections. So we did. We worked, we saved, and by the end of that semester, we had our licences.
The following year, when our first HM practicals were about to start, we convinced our mom to take out a car loan for us — promising we’d pay her back every month with the money we earned from those weekend jobs. We even had enough saved for a deposit. On our first day of work, we drove our little white Chevy Spark and dropped each other off at work every single day. That season taught us responsibility, independence, and trust — lessons we still carry today.
Eventually, we did the hard thing. We completed HM, cheffing, and obtained our Grande Diploma. It was tough. It was beautiful. And it shaped the women standing in front of you today. So who are these two random girls speaking to you now? We are Tebo and Lebo — graduates of the Hurst Campus over ten years ago. We are chefs by profession, award-winning cookbook authors, pop-up restaurateurs, food and media personalities, accredited sports nutritionists, and simply lovers of good food. Every skill we have — we learned here.
We learned confidence.
We learned communication.
We learned how to “walk with purpose,” as Mrs Barnard used to say.
We learned to have teachable spirits — because no one enjoys working with a know-it-all.
We learned about accounting, contracts, and building relationships that last.
We’re here to tell you this: your hard work will pay off.
Not every day will be easy. But it will be worth it.
We chose this industry because we love and respect it — and that’s why, even
today, we experience joy in our work. We are still on Plan A.You’ve chosen a beautiful industry. It is broad, dynamic, and filled with opportunity. We were just as nervous on our graduation day as you might be today — and yet we pressed on. So we encourage you to press on too. It takes many years to become an overnight success — but you will become one. We hope our story reminds you that we are not special or extraordinary. We are just like you.
And finally, this isn’t only a graduation speech. It’s a thank-you letter. To every educator, administrator, mentor, and staff member who guided us all those years ago — thank you. There are no words that truly capture our gratitude, but we hope you can feel our hearts today. This is our alma mater. And we are so, so proud.
Congratulations, Class of 2026.
