A few years back, I rediscovered something both disconcerting and empowering: my 1969 matriculation results. In the seven subjects I’d taken, I’d obtained four E and two D symbols – and a single C

What makes these symbols distinctive is the fact that they were out of alignment with my academic and professional performance before and after matriculation. My primary and tertiary academic records were enviable. The same applies to my professional record, which includes an academic career spanning two decades and 10 years in the private sector. None of these foreshadowed, or even reflected, my high school performance. Three lessons emerge from this disjuncture.

In the first place – in the short term, at least – who we are, or who we turn out to be in our lives, is largely a function of what’s been said about us by those in authority over us. This is an uncomfortable admission. We like to believe we’re fully in charge of our lives. Almost everything is “me-centred”.

The reality, though, is that we’re only partly responsible for outcomes in our journey. My personal academic history portrays this.My home was a shebeen frequented, among others, by one of my primary school teachers. During each of her several visits, she urged my mother to save up money for my education because, as she put it, “this boy will go places in future”. These words inspired and affirmed me. They enhanced my confidence and largely explain my glittering primary school performance. Consequently, the desire to prove my teacher right underpinned my attitude towards learning.My fortunes changed drastically at high school. On the third day of classes, one teacher, who wasn’t young, described me as the “worst student she’d ever encountered in her teaching profession”. My performance plummeted from that day onwards until matriculation. Clearly, teachers, parents, managers and leaders share one characteristic with God: they can create or decimate people through a single turn of phrase. They wield immense psychological power over their subjects or charges. Where damage occurs, it can be irreparable.This explains why victims of colonialism and oppression remain mental slaves for generations. Secondly, even under the most stressful conditions, people retain a measure of control over their destiny. After high school, my tertiary record improved year by year.

I regained my confidence and ultimately completed four post-graduate degrees, one with distinction and the other with a summa cum laude. This revival was underpinned simply by a refusal, on my part, to be broken by anyone, regardless of their power.Finally, few, if any, universities would admit me with those grades today. My application would probably be thrown out by a computer programme.

We should never write off people hastily. Sometimes institutions and companies should be willing to take risks on those who look like a lost cause. Otherwise, we’re in danger of fulfilling Thomas Gray’s observation: “Full many a flower is born to blush unseen/And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”