My path here’s a bit unconventional. But maybe convention has changed …
I didn’t enjoy school. I was good in a school that expected great. I was barely into my teens when I watched my friend get thrown out for “underperformance” and I suspected I was next.
Rather than wait for the inevitable, 13-year-old me made a pitch …
Home school. It was easy enough to sell mum on the concept – she knew I could handle it – but then mum wasn’t the dealmaker …
My dad’s a financial adviser and a massive inspiration to me. We’ve always had a bond but it still took three attempts, two pub dinners and an actual PowerPoint presentation before he finally bought-in to the idea of home school. When he did it was indescribably liberating.
Cue a couple of years of me on my own in my books; head down and racing through the syllabus. I loved it and was even ready for GSCEs ahead of time.
Age 15 I sat eight of them. I got some As, mostly Bs and a couple of Cs. What now?
I learned early in life that money means choice. At ten years old I tagged along with my older brother (I’m one of four) on his Saturday job delivering leaflets. In my native South Africa back then the effort was worth a cool 10 Rand … roughly five pence. I could do whatever I wanted with it. Being ten I obviously spent some on sweets, but the rest I invested in a massive bag of cheesy Wotsits. Those I portioned up into little bags to sell at the school tuck shop … and I always sold out. Ten-year-old me instinctively knew how to make money go further.
At 13 I began waitressing and soon I could buy the things I wanted. I later sold essays and homework on the side and I loved the independence of being self-sufficient. I still do.
By 19 my feet were itchy. Older restaurant colleagues spoke of their adventures abroad and I simply had to have a piece. I booked a solo trip to the UK and felt pure exhilaration as I boarded my first ever flight. People thought I was crazy, but I was young with a wild imagination. I was ready to meet opportunity.
Day two in the UK and I went job hunting. Every shop and business on Potters Bar High Street got a copy of my CV. A florist asked if I had experience and I told her no but you can teach me. I wasn’t feeling any fear. I must have handed a CV in to Nationwide because a month later I got a call from the branch manager inviting me to apply for a job.
I did, I got, and my career in finance began.