Success Stories of Our Graduates: 5
A CAREER JOURNEY THAT BEGAN WITH A LETTER
Sometimes, changing the course of your life doesn't require monumental decisions; a simple envelope dropped into a mailbox can be enough to alter your entire destiny.
Today, Kubat Kasymbekov is the Editor-in-Chief of the London-based BBC Kyrgyz Service. In international media circles, his name is now synonymous with high professionalism, editorial discipline, and masterful on-the-ground reporting. Yet, his story did not begin in the bustling corridors of major metropolitan media hubs, but in a remote, far-flung village in Kyrgyzstan.
While still a high school student, a small university brochure that fell into his hands sparked an unexplainable feeling inside him. In those days, Manas University represented a gateway to an entirely different world in his eyes. And the only way to approach that gate was a letter—a short letter written in Russian. He introduced himself, expressed his deep admiration for the university, and asked how he could become a student. Then, he dropped the envelope at the post office and forgot about it. Truth be told, he wasn't expecting an answer. But a few weeks later, he was hastily summoned by his school principal. A lecturer from Manas University had traveled all the way to the village specifically to see him.
"For the first time in my life," he recalls today, "I saw a major institution take an ordinary student truly seriously." The brochures, posters, and student photographs that the lecturer brought along that day remained hanging on his bedroom walls for a long time. Looking back years later, Kubat believes this was a form of mental preparation.
"I had already begun to feel like I belonged there, even before I had ever seen the campus."
A Decision Made Between Two Lives
Kubat had a natural aptitude for learning languages, as well as for writing. As a result of the university entrance exams, he qualified for both the Translation and Interpretation department and the Journalism department. Initially, he felt closer to translation; it seemed like a safer, more orderly, and predictable life.
However, the registration officer he consulted during enrollment uttered an unexpected sentence: "Don't you know what the lives of journalists are like? They are constantly on the move. Every single day, they are inside a completely different world."
Many people only realize the turning points of their lives years down the road. Kubat, on the other hand, still remembers that exact moment vividly today: "Sometimes, a single sentence defines a person's fate."
He chose journalism. And with it, he chose a life of relative uncertainty.
Building an Intellectual World Amid Economic Hardship
His family's financial means were limited. City life was expensive, and it was impossible for his parents to send him money regularly. However, the scholarship system at Manas University provided not only financial support for students like him but also fostered a profound sense of social equality. "In that environment, nobody cared what brand of shoes or t-shirt you wore," he explains. "People were valued for their thirst for knowledge."
As he speaks these words, his voice softens. In his memory, the university years were filled with much more than just lectures. They were alive with ideas floating through the faculty corridors, long intellectual debates, hours spent at Manas Radio, late-night chats in the dormitory, and deep friendships forged in the library.
He attended classes by day, worked at Manas Radio in the afternoons, and spent his summer breaks working in textile workshops to earn enough to get through the upcoming semester. Yet, he emphasizes that he never once felt "poor" during that entire period: "Because mentally, we were growing."
The World That Opened Up Behind the Microphone
While still a student, Kubat began working on cultural programs for KTRK (the national broadcaster). Then came Radio Azattyk, followed by the BBC’s London office. To an outsider, his career might look like a seamless, steady ascent, but in his own version, success is simply the result of repetitive, relentless discipline.
"In journalism, nobody hands you a ready-made peak," he says. "You have to prove yourself all over again every single day." During his years spent in Prague, he adapted to the relentless tempo of a global newsroom. He learned to handle editorial workflow, manage crisis situations, combat misinformation, and remain constantly on high alert.
He defines journalism not just as a profession, but as a state of mind: "There are no working hours in this job. You cannot simply clock out at six o'clock and shut off the world." After a brief silence, he adds, "When a tragedy occurs, you carry its weight on your shoulders, too."
This Thing Called "Objectivity"
One of the concepts Kasymbekov emphasizes most heavily during our conversation is the idea of a "blank page." In his view, a journalist's greatest enemy is not just censorship, but our own internal preconceptions. "If you go to talk to someone with a preconceived judgment," he asserts, "even your questions start becoming biased."
That is why he believes every story must be approached with a mentally reset, completely unbiased mind. This is the very first piece of advice he offers to young journalists as an editor: "You must be ready to tear down your own beliefs when necessary."
In his understanding of journalism, objectivity does not mean emotionlessness. On the contrary, it means deeply feeling the weight of the event while still managing to remain faithful to the truth. He believes that just as doctors have the Hippocratic Oath, journalists share an invisible vow: "To connect society with accurate information."
News Born of Sleepless Nights
When the topic shifts to investigative journalism, his facial expression changes—he speaks with heightened focus and intensity. For him, this is the most demanding form of the profession. "Behind an investigative file, there is sometimes a mental warfare that lasts for months." Misdirection, deliberate leaks, security risks, sleepless nights...
Yet, he describes these grueling processes with pure passion because he believes that journalism exists in its most authentic form right there. "Sometimes you struggle for days just for the sake of a single, accurate sentence. But when that sentence finally falls perfectly into place, it makes everything worth it."
The Musician Inside the Journalist
It would be a mistake to view him solely through the lens of hard news. In his youth, Kubat Kasymbekov composed music and wrote poetry. He even mentions that some melodies used to come to him in his dreams; he would wake up in the middle of the night and hum them into his phone's voice recorder so he wouldn't forget them.
He plays the komuz, plays and watches tennis, and reads books on astronomy. "If I hadn't become a journalist, I definitely would have been an astronomer," he says with a laugh. Then he adds, "Contemplating the universe teaches a person humility." Perhaps that is exactly why he manages to remain calm even amidst the chaotic noise of global newsrooms.
"Be Here"
He admits that within the intense, non-stop flow of information, the hardest thing is mentally returning home. Over time, he realized that simply being physically present in the same room with his family was not enough. This became especially clear to him through his relationship with his children: "Sometimes, I tell my son just two words: 'Be here.'"
He frames this phrase almost as a philosophy for living. In the modern media landscape, people's bodies are often in one place, while their minds are entirely somewhere else. For him, "being here" means genuinely dedicating your attention to the present moment. Perhaps, after an entire journalism career, that is exactly what he is trying to achieve.
For Future Journalists
When describing today's media landscape, his enthusiasm surges once again: short-form videos, artificial intelligence, the accelerated news cycle, the attention economy... In his view, journalism education now has to transform completely.
"Writing a three-page analytical piece is easy," he points out. "But explaining the exact same thing in 90 seconds in a way that is clear and engaging is far more difficult."
He believes that nobody truly knows how artificial intelligence will ultimately reshape journalism. However, he is absolutely certain about one thing: "A person who learns languages will never get lost anywhere."
In this sentence, his own story invisibly resurfaces.
You can't help but picture that young high school boy, sitting in a remote village, drafting a letter in Russian.
And then, you look at the BBC newsroom in London.
And you realize that the long path connecting those two distant points was paved not just by sheer talent, but by genuine curiosity, fierce discipline, and one timely letter.
Reporters: Asylai Toroeva and Altynai Dosubekova
