This post has been posted on behalf of Undergraduate Laws. Please note views expressed on the following blog are those of the students and publication on the Undergraduate Laws blog does not constitute an endorsement.
This post has been contributed by Sarah Henderson, Associate Dean.
As we celebrate graduation, we hear from some of our First Class graduates from 2025. In this post, they share their experiences of what went well, what was challenging, and what they learned along the way. They’ve also included some practical advice for their fellow students who are still on their study journey.
Khadija Johar
I did not begin my law degree with clarity or confidence, but with time, it became a journey that reshaped my mindset, work ethic, and ambitions.
I entered the programme without a strong sense of direction, and in my first year, I did not achieve a distinction, which was quite disappointing for me. That moment forced me to reflect and acknowledge that I was not taking my studies as seriously as I needed to.
From my second year onwards, I made a deliberate decision to change this. I began taking my classes more seriously, staying consistent, and putting in focused effort. I made full use of the undergraduate VLE and online library resources, engaged more deeply with textbooks, and carefully studied examiner reports to understand exactly what was expected. This shift allowed me to move beyond surface-level learning and develop a clearer, more strategic approach to my studies.
As a result, I scored two distinctions in my second year and three in my third year, which ultimately led to me graduating with a First Class degree. It was not an easy journey and required sacrifices, discipline, and sustained focus, but with determination, I was able to make it happen.
Along the way, I also developed a genuine interest in law, and my confidence grew alongside my performance. What once felt uncertain became something I truly enjoyed and took pride in.
My advice to future students would be to trust your ability, even if your journey does not begin perfectly.
Do not be discouraged by early setbacks. With the right mindset, consistency, and determination, you can achieve far more than you initially believe. Nothing is impossible if you are willing to put in the work.
Alishba Irfan
Eight First-Class Honours in twenty years, across four campuses. That was the statistic presented to us during orientation in 2022 at the University of London Recognised Teaching Centre I was enrolled in. Most people in that room dared not dream of such a possibility. And only a few beyond it, across the world, had. Still, there was a small, persistent voice in my head urging me to try. And while I would never admit it out loud at the time, I had already promised myself I would work tirelessly to be the ninth.
But a month later, I was diagnosed with a chronic illness. The three years of my degree became a blur of hospital visits and blood tests. At first, I told myself it was temporary: a brief interruption, a detour I would quickly correct. I clung to the idea that discipline alone could outwork uncertainty. But illness does not negotiate with ambition. It arrives uninvited, rearranges priorities, and demands to be acknowledged.
Lectures turned into recordings I struggled to revisit. Deadlines blurred into one another. There were days when getting out of bed felt like an achievement more significant than submitting an assignment. I fell behind – not just in coursework, but in the version of myself I had imagined on that first day. And yet, that small voice never disappeared.
It changed, though. It became quieter, steadier. Less about proving something extraordinary, and more about refusing to let go entirely. I stopped chasing perfection and started chasing continuity. One lecture, one assignment, one exam at a time. Progress became uneven, sometimes invisible, but it was still progress. Somewhere in that chaos, I kept moving: not quickly, not gracefully, but consistently.
Each August, the results became a quiet measure of whether I was moving forward. I learnt that success depends as much on endurance as on ability. And that somewhere along the way, almost without noticing, I found myself drawn to the law in a way I hadn’t expected. It gave me something to return to on days that otherwise felt reduced to uncertainty. It kept my mind alive while my body struggled against the contours of illness – the small, persistent disruptions that quietly dictated the rhythm of each day.
Then the final results came.
First-Class Honours.
For a moment, it didn’t feel like a dramatic ending. Only a recognition of everything that had happened in between: the interruptions, the adjustments, the persistence that never quite looked like persistence at the time.
That number from the orientation day no longer felt as distant as it once had – the eight had become nine. Not because it had been the goal all along, but because, despite everything, I had quietly worked my way into it.
Yet First-Class Honours is only the beginning. The endurance that once felt circumstantial has become intentional. I carry forward not only what I learned through the degree but also the habits it required – consistency, patience, and discipline. They now shape how I approach the law: as something to be engaged with steadily and with a willingness to work through complexity and uncertainty. What I learnt to simply keep me going has become the foundation of how I move forward.
Mohammad Ahmad Shahyan Naeem
My journey into studying law was shaped by a deep interest in providing meaningful solutions to the legal challenges faced by marginalized groups in Pakistan, particularly women, religious minorities and people with disabilities.
During my academic career, I faced the challenge of balancing demanding coursework with practical research commitments, which I overcame through disciplined time management, consistency, and mentorship. Additionally, my progress was driven by engaging with further readings, using the VLE for additional resources, and regularly attempting past papers. I would advise present and future students to do the same, as incorporating examples beyond the basic concepts into their answers can maximize marks. Besides this, I believe that one shouldn’t just study to pass exams; the aim should be to understand the concepts, because these very concepts will stay with you and guide your thinking in the practical field throughout your professional life. Lastly, the most valuable virtue one can cultivate is critical thinking – not only in academics but in life more broadly. By questioning assumptions, considering different perspectives, and thinking beyond conventional boundaries, one can navigate both legal studies and life more effectively.
Jeanne Lombard
In 2021, I decided to enrol in the graduate LLB programme. I had a master’s degree and more than a decade of experience in a language-related field, but I was ready for a new intellectual challenge and wanted to enrich my understanding of the world around me.
My first module was Criminal law, and I was shocked to receive the worst mark I had ever received for an exam. I knew I had understood the study material, so it was a question of teaching myself how to answer law exams. If I could have my time again, these are the things I would tell myself at the start of my LLB:
- Provide definitions of concepts, even if this feels unoriginal and boring. This is not a creative writing course.
- Work through every aspect of whatever it is you must demonstrate. In a question on theft in my first disastrous exam, for example, I immediately zeroed in on what I thought the main issue was instead of working methodically through all five elements. When you work through all the elements systematically, even the ones that seem obvious, you often spot sneaky, less noticeable issues. I finished my first exam with lots of time left over. That never happened again.
- Read the cases. Read all the important ones. Read the ones mentioned in the pre-exam update. But don’t go overboard memorising every single case mentioned in the textbook: once you’ve read and understood the important cases, trust your ability to reason based on your understanding of the law. Also, relax into reading the cases instead of rushing through them. Once you get over the initial overwhelm, it is fascinating to see how judges reason through all the messy situations people manage to get themselves into.
- Be open-minded about the kinds of questions you plan to answer in the exam. I was very set on answering only problem questions, as all my previous academic studies had involved lots of essays and problem questions felt fresh to me. I also assumed that essay questions would require too much research and insight. In practice, if you are strategic, you should be able to identify a few essay question topics that are almost bound to crop up. If you prepare well for those, it is easier to score higher marks. Reading extra material for essay questions can also enrich your answers to problem questions.
- You are never too old or too experienced to make elementary time-keeping mistakes in an exam. Plan your time carefully beforehand and do not, under any circumstances, deviate from this plan, even if you made a complete mess of the first question you answered.
- It can be lonely, especially if you are studying independently and juggling your studies with a full-time job. Try to attend online events and reach out to other students also toiling alone. For some modules, I had weekly online discussions with students I had met at the university’s revision sessions. Meeting regularly with a fellow student keeps you accountable and complaining together boosts morale!
All the solitary hours spent reading cases will be worth it when you finish: not only for the physical piece of paper, but for the feeling of accomplishment it brings.