In a world that celebrates instant wins, Dyan Buis reminds us that the greatest victories are often silent, slow, and forged in the fire no one sees.
From Small-Town Tracks to Global Podiums
Long before the roar of Paralympic crowds echoed in his ears, a boy from Riversdale, Western Cape, learned to walk with a body that didn’t always obey. Mild cerebral palsy could have written the first chapter of Dyan Buis’s story.
Instead, he rewrote it with every determined step. What followed was extraordinary: gold at the London 2012 Paralympics, world records in the T38 100 m and long jump, medals across continents. Yet, Dyan never saw the starting blocks as the finish line. Sport taught him discipline, yes, but it also taught him something deeper: excellence is not a moment; it is a habit.
When the Track Ends, the Real Race Begins
Retirement from elite parasport could have been an ending. For Dyan, it was a new starting gun. By day he teaches at Lückhoff High School and serves as deputy principal. By night he pastors a congregation. Somewhere in between, he raised a family, supported by his wife Erna’s quiet strength, and quietly chipped away at a Master’s degree in Education Policy Studies at Stellenbosch University.
On 8 December 2025, he walked across the stage (no limp in sight) to collect the degree that almost broke him. There were seasons of near-burnout. There were theses abandoned at 2 a.m. and training schedules that stole family dinners. “Quitting was never an option,” he says simply. “People were counting on me, and my faith carried me when my body and mind could not.”
A Legacy Bigger Than Medals
Dyan’s research is not locked in an ivory tower. It lives in every learner with a disability who still feels like an outsider in a mainstream classroom. His findings expose the gap between beautiful policy documents and the daily reality of exclusion. More importantly, they light a path toward genuine inclusion (because Dyan knows what it feels like to be physically present but emotionally invisible).
He dreams now of a PhD, of lecturing, of professionalising parasport in South Africa. But his proudest title remains the one no podium can give: husband, father, teacher, believer. To every reader juggling impossible hours, hidden pain, or dreams that feel too heavy: Dyan Buis has a message from the finish line he keeps moving.
“Don’t give up on your dreams. It may seem impossible in the moment, but if you put in the hard work (one foot, one page, one prayer at a time), you can fulfil them.”
”True endurance is not loud. It does not need a stadium. It is the quiet roar of a man who decided long ago that the story of his life would be written by perseverance, not by limitation. And every time someone reads his story and chooses to keep going, that roar grows a little louder.
