Heman Bekele whipped up the most dangerous of what he called his “potions” when he was just over 7 years old. He’d been conducting his own science experiments for about three years by that point, mixing up whatever he could get his hands on at home and waiting to see if the resulting goo would turn into anything.
“They were just dish soap, laundry detergent, and common household chemicals,” he says today of the ingredients he’d use. “I would hide them under my bed and see what would happen if I left them overnight. There was a lot of mixing together completely at random.”
But soon, things got less random. For Christmas before his 7th birthday, Heman was given a chemistry set that came with a sample of sodium hydroxide. By then, he had been looking up chemical reactions online and learned that aluminum and sodium hydroxide can together produce prodigious amounts of heat. That got him thinking that perhaps he could do the world some good. “I thought that this could be a solution to energy, to making an unlimited supply,” he says. “But I almost started a fire.”
After that, his parents kept a closer eye on him. As it turned out, having adults watching what he does is something that Heman, now 15, would have to get used to. These days, a whole lot of people are paying him a whole lot of attention. Last October, the 3M company and Discovery Education selected Heman, a rising 10th-grader at Woodson High School in Fairfax County, Virginia, as the winner of its Young Scientist Challenge. His prize: $25,000. His accomplishment: inventing a soap that could one day treat and even prevent multiple forms of skin cancer. It may take years before such a product comes to market, but this summer Heman is already spending part of every weekday working in a lab at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health in Baltimore, hoping to bring his dream to fruition. When school is in session, he’ll be there less often, but will continue to plug away. “I’m really passionate about skin-cancer research,” he says, “whether it’s my own research or what’s happening in the field. It’s absolutely incredible to think that one day my bar of soap will be able to make a direct impact on somebody else’s life. That’s the reason I started this all in the first place.”
It’s that ambition—to say nothing of that selflessness—that has earned Heman recognition as TIME’s Kid of the Year for 2024.
Born in Addis Ababa before emigrating to the U.S. with his family when he was 4, Heman recalls that some of his earliest memories were of seeing laborers working in the blistering sun, usually with no protection for their skin. His parents taught him and his sisters—Hasset, now 16, and Liya, now 7—to cover up, and explained the dangers of too much time outdoors without sunscreen or proper clothing.
“When I was younger, I didn’t think much of it, but when I came to America, I realized what a big problem the sun and ultraviolet radiation is when you’re exposed to it for a long time,” Heman says.
It didn’t take too long for him to start thinking about how he might help. A few years ago, he read about imiquimod, a drug that, among other uses, is approved to fight one form of skin cancer and has shown promise against several more. Typically, imiquimod, which can help destroy tumors and usually comes in the form of a cream, is prescribed as a front-line drug as part of a broader cancer treatment plan, but Heman wondered if it could be made available more easily to people in the earliest stages of the disease. A bar of soap, he reckoned, might be just the delivery system for such a lifesaving drug, not just because it was simple, but because it would be a lot more affordable than the $40,000 it typically costs for skin-cancer treatment.
“What is one thing that is an internationally impactful idea, something that everyone can use, [regardless of] socioeconomic class?” Heman recalls thinking. “Almost everyone uses soap and water for cleaning. So soap would probably be the best option.”
There was a long way to go between inspiration and application, however. Executing on his idea was more complicated than simply mixing the drug into an ordinary bar of soap, since any therapeutic power the imiquimod might confer would just be washed down the drain with the suds. The answer was to combine the soap with a lipid-based nanoparticle that would linger on the skin when the soap was washed away—much the way moisturizer or fragrance can stay behind after the suds are rinsed off.
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There was only so much brainstorming Heman could do on his own, however. Then, in 2023, he came across the 3M challenge and submitted a video explaining his idea. Soon, he received an invite to the company’s HQ in St. Paul, Minn., to deliver a pitch in front of a panel of judges. Before that day was out, he’d been named the winner. The $25,000 prize, he knew, would go a long way toward helping him afford to pursue his research, but he’d still need a professional lab in which to conduct the work. That opportunity arrived in February, when he attended a networking event hosted by the Melanoma Research Alliance, in Washington, D.C. There, he met Vito Rebecca, a molecular biologist and assistant professor at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore.
“I remember reading somewhere something about this young kid who had an idea for a skin-cancer soap,” says Rebecca. “It immediately piqued my interest, because I thought, how cool, him wanting to make it accessible to the whole world. And then, by complete serendipity at this Melanoma Research Alliance meeting, the CEO of the alliance introduced me to Heman. From the first conversation, his passion was evident. When I found out he lived very nearby in Virginia, I told him if he ever wanted to stop by the lab he’d be more than welcome.”
Heman took him up on that idea, and Rebecca agreed to sponsor Heman, acting as his principal investigator and inviting him to work at the Baltimore lab, toggling between benchwork and schoolwork back in Fairfax.
For close to half a year now, Heman and Rebecca have been running basic research on mice, injecting the animals with strains of skin cancer and preparing to apply the lipid-bound, imiquimod-infused soap and see what the results are. And though they’re getting ready to test it and a control against melanoma, Heman knows “there’s still a long way to go”—not just testing the soap, but also patenting it and getting FDA certification, which can take a decade altogether.
It is a measure of Heman’s enormous head start that when that decade passes, he will still be only 25 years old—the age at which medical students have not even completed their postgrad education. He’s making good use of that time. In addition to working on his idea, he’s promoting it. In June, he delivered a presentation before 8,000 people at Boston’s Tsongas Center, during a meeting of the National Academy of Future Physicians and Medical Scientists. “That was nerve-racking,” he says, “but it was fun.”
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Heman has fun in more conventional ways too. He’s part of the Woodson High School marching band, on both flute and trombone. He plays basketball, reads voraciously (especially fantasy, though he recently reread The Great Gatsby, which he describes as “a pretty good read”), and considers chess “a turn-my-brain-off-and-play kind of thing.”
He credits his family, particularly his parents, for setting the stage for his achievements. His mother Muluemebet is a teacher; his father Wondwossen is a human-resources specialist for the U.S. Agency for International Development. The example of their sacrifice, coming to an unfamiliar country in service of their children’s education, has imbued him with a love of learning and a commitment to pursuing the improbable—or even the seemingly impossible. Nor are his parents and Rebecca the only adults stewarding him on his long scientific journey. He is also aided by Deborah Isabelle, his mentor from 3M.
“I got really lucky,” says Isabelle. “Last year was my first year participating as a mentor in the Young Scientist Challenge, and I was paired with Heman. He’s an incredible, passionate, very inspiring young man.”
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t make mistakes—and Isabelle, for one, has been there to catch him when he falls.
“At one point when he was making the soap, things didn’t work the way he expected,” she says. “So I asked him, What didn’t work? What did you do? And we talked about it, and he’s like, ‘Wow, I didn’t exactly follow the directions.’ And so we had a conversation about that, and he was able to go up and figure out some things, and say, ‘OK, this is what I learned from that.’”
That kind of trial and error will, Heman hopes, take him to the day that his health-giving soap can at last be used in early-stage cancers—including so-called cancer Stage 0, when there is just a small growth that has not yet had much effect on the surface of the skin—and then in later stages, when it would be an adjunct to other treatments.
For all of this, Heman remains humble about what he’s accomplished in just 15 years. “Anybody could do what I did,” he says. “I just came up with an idea. I worked towards that idea, and I was able to bring it to life.” But he confesses that he worries too: scientific breakthroughs seem to be coming faster and faster—in medicine, in engineering, in artificial intelligence—and he frets that people may have reached something of a saturation point.
“A lot of people have this mindset that everything’s been done, there’s nothing left for me to do,” he says. “To anybody having that thought, [I’d say] we’ll never run out of ideas in this world. Just keep inventing. Keep thinking of new ways to improve our world and keep making it a better place.”
—With reporting by Julia Zorthian
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Write to Jeffrey Kluger at jeffrey.kluger@time.com