Palesa Molefe

“Human, what?” he paused, mid-chew of the pasta in his mouth.

“Human biometeorology,” I said, chuckling at the expression of confusion that spread across his face.

He blinked and tilted his head, staring at me with concentration. “Sounds like something between sci-fi and weather forecasting”, he shrugged.

“Close!” I grinned. “It’s the study of how the weather and environment affect people in different spheres of life. Whether it’s health, tourism, or thermal comfort. Think of it as the bridge between meteorology and other scientific disciplines. With a human twist.”

That’s usually how most of my conversations go when people ask about my research.

What is My Research?

My MSc research sits right in the middle of the fascinating field of biometeorology; looking at the risk of heat stress in medical practitioners working in the emergency department of a government hospital.

It may sound niche, but it touches on something that affects all of us, especially as our climate continues to warm. It examines how our bodies cope with heat, especially when we’re working in high-stress, high-pressure environments.

The Emergency Department: A Heat Trap in Disguise

When we think of hospitals, we usually imagine sterile, air-conditioned halls and state-of-the-art equipment. But that image doesn’t always align with reality, especially in South African government hospitals that are often overburdened and under-resourced.

Now, zoom in on the emergency department. It’s a pressure cooker. Figuratively and, at times, literally.

When hospital heat stress and workplace pressure collide, even the lunchroom cannot survive under this pressure. (Image created with the help of ChatGPT Open AI).

Doctors, nurses, and support staff are constantly on their feet, making critical decisions, attending to trauma cases, and navigating overcrowded rooms, all while wearing personal protective equipment. Add poor ventilation, high patient turnover, and South Africa’s increasingly hot climate, and you get a perfect storm for occupational heat stress.

So this is the question: What is the risk of heat stress in healthcare in such a busy environment, and what can we do about it?

Why Human Biometeorology Matters in a Hospital

This is where human biometeorology comes in. It’s not just about tracking temperatures and humidity. It’s about understanding how those conditions interact with the human body. Specifically, it’s about how heat exposure affects heart rate, core body temperature, concentration, and even decision-making abilities.

My research explores these relationships in real-time hospital settings. Using tools that measure indoor temperature, humidity, radiant heat, and air movement, I will assess the thermal comfort and heat stress risk for emergency department practitioners. I plan to gather data on their experiences during their shifts.

The goal? To combine objective environmental data with personal experiences to build a fuller picture of how heat stress manifests in real-world clinical environments.

Climate Change Isn’t Just an Outdoor Problem

One of the most surprising insights I’ve had during my postgraduate journey is how climate change is not just an outdoor problem.

We often focus on farmers, construction workers, or athletes when talking about heat risk. Just like outdoor spaces, indoor spaces can be just as hazardous, especially when they lack adequate cooling systems or airflow. This is often the case in our public health facilities.

And when heat affects medical professionals, it’s not just their health that’s at stake. The quality of healthcare they provide to patients can be compromised. The risk of heat stress not only affects outdoor labourers, it also affects all other professions. Just a little differently.

The beauty of research like this is that it doesn’t just point out problems. It can also help spark solutions. I will explore these deeper as I conduct my research.

Back to the Pasta Bowl

“So, you’re basically making sure doctors don’t melt while saving lives?” he said, finally swallowing his pasta.

“Exactly,” I nodded enthusiastically. “They take care of us. The least we can do is to make sure their work environment doesn’t burn them out. Literally.”

He raised his fork in salute. “I’ll never look at a hospital the same way again.”

And honestly? That’s the point. If one conversation over pasta can shift someone’s perspective, then imagine what awareness, research, and action can do on a larger scale.

After all, human biometeorology may sound like a mouthful. At its core, it’s about keeping people safe, healthy, and thriving. Even under pressure. Even in the heat.

Note: The headline image of this blog post was created with the help of Canva.

Zanele Mabena

Like any parent, Elizabeth felt a wave of emotions as her daughter, Naledi, started school—anxiety, joy, nervousness, and mostly, excitement. But that excitement quickly faded as complaints from school began crawling in. It felt as if they were validating her deepest fears and her late-night tears: “She talks out of turn”, “She’s disruptive”, “She won’t sit still”. At first, Elizabeth thought Naledi would grow out of it. As a first-time parent, she assumed perhaps Naledi was simply more energetic or imaginative than other kids. But as the calls persisted, Elizabeth realised something deeper was at play. She knew she wasn’t a bad mother, and her daughter wasn’t badly behaved. Naledi’s brain just worked differently. She knew her daughter was empathetic, loving, creative—and misunderstood. Elizabeth, like many parents raising a child with Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), was doing the best she could with the knowledge and resources she had, while also processing her own upbringing and experiences.

If you’re wondering who Elizabeth is and why her story matters, allow me to explain. My name is Zanele Mabena. I’m a master’s student in research psychology at the University of Stellenbosch. My work focuses on the parent-child relationship in families where a child has ADHD, specifically exploring how parents perceive that bond. ADHD, or Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, is a common neurodevelopmental disorder, which affects roughly 7.6% of school-age children. It is characterised by symptoms of inattention, impulsivity, and hyperactivity. The condition can present in three ways: primarily inattentive, hyperactive-impulsive, or a combination of both. It’s also frequently co-occurring with other conditions like mood disorders, anxiety, or learning difficulties. Children with ADHD often experience emotional challenges like low self-esteem and poor frustration tolerance, as well as behavioural issues such as aggression, irritability, and emotional dysregulation.

Raising a child with ADHD often leads to heightened parental stress, sometimes even marital strain. The relationship between parent and child is bi-directional—each influences the other. The behaviours associated with ADHD often require extra parental monitoring, increasing stress levels. This stress can lead to frustration, guilt, and even depression for parents who may feel like they’re failing their child. My research delves into both the behavioural and emotional dynamics of the parent-child bond—looking at things like shared activities, communication styles, parenting practices, empathy, affection, and feelings of rejection.

My research sits at the intersection of developmental psychology, family systems, and neuropsychology. In families affected by ADHD, parent-child relationships are often under strain, largely due to stigma and misunderstanding. As part of my research, I facilitated a beading workshop, where parents and children created jewellery for one another. I wanted to see whether creative, mindful engagement could strengthen these unique relationships.

But why does this matter?

The quality of the parent-child relationship is vital to a child’s cognitive, social, and emotional development. A nurturing and understanding environment helps children thrive. At the same time, parents need adequate support so they don’t experience burnout or mental health difficulties. While we know how crucial these relationships are, there is limited research that explores them in-depth—particularly in the South African context, where external factors such as poverty, substance abuse, and high rates of violence also place added pressure on families. These challenges often result in harsher or more authoritarian parenting, which can further strain the parent-child dynamic.

Through my work, I aim to understand the factors that help or hinder these relationships. What causes strain? What promotes connection? How do families cope? ADHD is often surrounded by stigma and misinformation, leaving parents feeling isolated and judged. It is essential to create safe spaces for families to share their experiences—spaces where they can feel heard, supported, and less alone.

Moreover, such stories and experiences inform researchers, educators, and clinicians, helping us build more effective interventions and support structures. The creative workshop component of my research—where parents and children crafted jewellery for one another—was designed to encourage mindfulness, communication, and quality time. The aim was to foster connection, reduce stress, and provide families with tools to build more resilient relationships.

Ultimately, I hope this research contributes to both academic literature and practical interventions for families living with ADHD. My goal is to promote mindful, shared activities that support healthy communication and emotional bonding. When parents are supported and confident in their parenting, children benefit. When children feel understood and accepted, they flourish.

In the end, families like Elizabeth and Naledi’s deserve not just awareness, but empathy, support, and tangible resources. It is through these efforts that we can build stronger, healthier relationships—one beaded bracelet, one shared story, at a time.

Images from the beading workshop