From failing GCE ‘O’ Levels to being offered a course in one of Singapore’s top universities.
While reading, listen along with the accompanying playlist here!
Writer’s note: If you’ve reached the next song marker even though the current song hasn’t finished, wait for it to finish, before moving on. If you finished the song before the next song marker, just let Spotify play and keep reading :)
Rock Bottom
The year is 2016, the year for the national examination we had all spent 4 years preparing for. We had crossed the half-year mark, and everyone was feeling the pressure as the examination dates loomed closer.
And there I was having the emotional breakdown of my life because I just broke up with my then girlfriend. It wasn’t a great time.
Listen to: Already Dead by Puppet
Looking back, I think I was pretty numb to failing. My grades starting dropping off back in Primary 3, and it never recovered. I had spent the past three years in my secondary school fooling around and doing the absolute minimum. Teachers were telling me to start studying, or else failing my ‘O’ Levels would be a likely scenario.
My only response, in typical Singaporean English fashion, was “fail lor”, which would translate to something along the lines of “I’m alright with failing” in a highly indifferent and nonchalant tone.
Soon enough, the day of my first paper came. 20 October 2016.
To be honest, I don’t remember how I felt on that day. However, judging from the fact that I went out with a bunch of friends who weren’t taking the same examinations as me, I was pretty chill about it.
I slept in some exams, and tried my best in others. The ones where I put in my best efforts, I was honestly pretty proud of. It represented the hardest I’ve worked for an examination, probably in my whole life up till that point. This was especially so for my Elementary Maths paper. I remember the revision I did and the midnight oil I burnt for that, and am still extremely happy at the grade I got. For the ones where I slept, well, it was pretty much standard procedure for me at that point in time.
I think I was even annoyed that one of the invigilators kept waking me up.
After each paper ended, I would go home, ignore my mum’s questions about the day’s paper, close my room’s door behind me, and attempt to start studying. Of course, most of the time, I would give up in frustration, or distraction.
While I understood that my mum was concerned and had good intentions, I just didn’t want to think about the day’s paper anymore. Life was already taking enough of a toll on me, and I didn’t need another person reminding me of my likely failures.
Fortunately, the 3 weeks of examinations went by very quickly, and soon I felt the relief of ‘O’ Levels being over, and the few months of freedom that it entails. I went on picnics with friends, hung out with friends whom I haven’t met in years, and visited my relatives overseas.
Things were good. Or at least I thought so. The bubble was about to pop.
Disintegration
11 January 2017. D-Day.
At exactly 2.30pm, all schools across Singapore would be allowed to distribute the result slips to their students. Of course, there was the yearly routine of schools showing (off) the results of the batch. School’s percentage of distinction rates versus national distinction rates. Revealing the top scorers. And even the occasional press, when the school has someone who “against all odds, became a top scorer”. It was all pretty boring to me.
After some amount of time, the teachers were finally given the go-ahead to give us our results slip. It was time. Now, the unfortunate part of this whole situation, was that I was going to get my results slip last.
Around me, faces of worry and anticipation slowly turned into faces of despair and joy. People started crying, parents went to hug their children, and the atmosphere was an uncomfortable mix of solemnity and celebration. It was suffocating to sit there, waiting for my turn.
When it finally came to my turn, I forced a smile to my classmates as I walked up to the teachers’ table to collect my results. My teachers had an evidently sad and grim smile on their faces.
“Good luck,” they said, as they handed the slip to me. My laugh tried to mask the nervousness, but they didn’t seem amused. Guess I’ll take a look at my score. What’s the worst that it could be?
L1R4: 27.
My L1R5 score wasn’t even computed. It was 35 when I calculated it myself. For those that know how the system works, you know that it’s really bad. For everyone else… well I nearly failed the entire national exam.
The next few days were a blur. I sat at home, locked myself in, and just gamed all day. I lost my appetite, and everything that my parents were screaming at me was lost in the black hole that the numbness has spun up. I honestly did expect a better grade, and couldn’t comprehend the fact that I was so close to failing a national examination. The only options I thought I had at that time were to
- Retake O Levels (which I wanted to);
- Go to an Institute of Technical Education (ITE) (while not desired, it was an option I was willing to accept);
- Enlist for National Service.
My world kind of fell apart. Disintegrated. Any hopes and dreams I had in the past were essentially shattered, and my future, as far as I was concerned, was dead in the water.
Up till that point, I wanted to go to Temasek Polytechnic for their Diploma in Aviation & Management Services (now Aviation Management), as I had a keen interest in aviation. Well, guess not.
My parents forced me to put in my choices for the Joint Acceptance Exercise (JAE), and amidst the white noise my brain was generating, I forced myself to research a little into the different courses in ITE and decided on a few that I could live with. I was slowly accepting the fact that I was indeed going to enrol in an ITE, and carried on with my life, while still carrying the burden of my horrendous results.
A Silver Lining
The weekend after results were released, I was working at my part-time job as service staff at a business hotel in the CBD. The work was tough and tiring, but it helped me to take my mind off the struggles of life. Or at least it was a distraction for an inevitable fate that I had to face sooner or later.
During one lunch break, I got a call from my dad. Rolling my eyes, I answered my phone. He asked if I knew what Millennia Institute (MI) was.
“No”, I answered, “why would I?” He then briefly explained that it was a 3-year course for an ‘A’ Level certificate and that he already changed the first two options in my JAE form to MI’s commerce and arts stream.
Now, I was already vehemently against the idea of another 2, much less 3, years of waking up at 6am in the morning, wearing the same uniform, and having the same routine over and over again. I didn’t want another round of national examinations to scar me deeper than what I already felt at the O Levels. I wanted more fun and freedom that a polytechnic course seemed to provide. Only a few years later would I realise how wrong I was.
Nevertheless, I tried to keep my mind open as my parents explained the perks of going to MI. Even if I didn’t accept my parents decision to forcefully change my choices, I didn’t have a choice — the JAE form was closed, the deadline was up.
Over the rest of the month, I sat at home and contemplated life and read more into the school I was about to venture into. The only information I could find were threads on KiasuParents from 2012. While 5 years was a big difference, and while much could have changed, the posts on those threads did not paint a rosy picture.
My conclusion? Go in, keep a low profile, do my best for 3 years, get an ‘A’ Level certificate, get out. Seems easy enough.
To me, MI was a place where I could turn over a new leaf. A completely new environment, with new people, new teachers, new everything. While I didn’t have any expectations for the school, I was excited to start a new chapter of my life afresh with a clean slate. I didn’t want to screw it up again. I wasn’t going to screw it up again.
The school year started off pretty uneventfully. Your standard orientation programme, a bunch of boring talks, some fun games with icebreakers, covered the first week of school. Pretty standard stuff when you go to a new school.
After the orientation week, I was honestly feeling pretty hopeful. Maybe this is where I really turn things around.
Listen to: A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay
A Second Chance
It was a pretty normal day, until our home tutors told us that our allocated CCAs were up on the school’s noticeboard. I was excited and ran over to the board during our break. Of all the CCAs I could choose, I chose Student Council, and I got it, at least for now.
Why Council? In all honesty, it was a primary school goal to be a prefect. I had no idea why I wanted to be one, but I didn’t get selected. Going through secondary school constantly being defeated, and having such an abysmal grade, gave me no chance to be in Council. MI was the place for me to change, and I thought that it was a good platform for me to prove to myself that I had what it takes.
Eventually, I got selected to be a councillor and was pretty proud of myself. With the standards that a councillor had to adhere to, I wanted to push myself to be better, both as a student and as a person. That seems like a standard answer that you would hear in an interview, but to me, it was a genuine and powerful motivator. It was one of the major turning points of this journey.
In my first year, I was selected to be in the Teachers’ Day planning committee. Being the first project for my batch, and the biggest project for a Y1 team, it was a daunting challenge.
In pre-university, things were different from what people were used to in secondary school. You started from scratch, and the only reference points you had were the plans of your seniors. We spent days brainstorming for ideas, themes, concepts, and everything you needed for a mindblowing celebration.
After countless weeks, we came out as an overambitious team, looking to raise the bar of the celebration. It was a tough journey — rushing to shops to buy materials at the last minute, falling asleep over Skype meetings, burning the midnight oil to finish both project deliverables and homework — it was a mad rush, and even our teachers were concerned for our health.
Months later on the actual day, the multi-purpose hall would turn dark, covered in cardboard painted in black with stars and constellations on it. The lights were turned off, with fairy lights hung across the ceiling. Coldplay’s A Sky Full of Stars filled the airwaves. It was showtime.
The theme, “Our Guiding Stars”, took the breaths of the teachers away. Being the lost students that we are, our teachers — the guiding stars — would lead us ahead, helping us to forge a journey that we would never forget. It was something that was felt by the entire team through our short 8 months in MI, and we wanted to convey it to our teachers.
The event was a colossal success, and our principal insisted that the decorations stay on for the teachers-only part of the celebrations, even if it had a completely different theme. It was a testament to the work we’ve accomplished, and we were all extremely proud of the event that we pulled off.
With that done and dusted, it was time to place all of my focus on my grades. I wasn’t doing great, and I wasn’t intending to retain a year. The rest of the year was pretty uneventful, and fortunately, I got the grades I needed to promote. Heck yeah, onto Year 2.
To put Year 2 into perspective, we were stepping up into ExCO positions in our CCAs, Project Work was about to hit us like a truck, we had to ensure that we scored well enough to promote, and most importantly, we were taking our ‘A’ Level exams for our H1 contrasting subject — for me, Maths. To many people, Y2 was probably more stressful than Y3.
Of course, there are also the handful of events that a councillor would be involved with in Y2. One of them was Orientation, the biggest event of the year. Having the honour of being an orientation group leader (OGL) was rare, and the experience you get is probably one of the toughest, but most fulfilling one you’ll ever get in school.
Looking back, I would think that Orientation was one of my most humbling experiences. I wasn’t particularly good at talking to people (honestly still ain’t good), but one of the main jobs of being an OGL was to engage with their group members, and to make them feel welcome into the school. My own OGL welcomed me into the school with open arms, and I wanted to pay it forward to the next batch of students.
Being the biggest event of the school year, it was also the most important. Over the course of the preparation period, we would spend our after school hours in some random classroom, practicing the batch dance over and over again. Outside of dancing, we would be painting our flag, or preparing for the games. This journey started from the start of the year, and was a constant rush for the two months before the new batch came in.
Fast forward to orientation. We were missing entire days' worth of lessons, falling behind on homework, and even had to report to school at the same time the security guard unlocked the school for the day. It was beyond tiring, but the smiles at the end of the orientation week was well worth it. The bonds were formed, new friends were made, our job here was done.
Over the course of the week, I heard many stories, similar to mine. Getting an abysmal grade, coming to MI for a second chance. It was heartening to hear such stories, and the determination they had to come to this school. We soon had to part ways; them to begin their ‘A’ Levels journey, me to continue mine as I soon reached the halfway mark.
The Beginning of The End
After orientation, selection for the ExCO positions quickly arrived. The conundrum arrived soon after— should I run for presidency or nah? It was a coveted role, and while it wasn’t the main reason for any of us running for it, the portfolio boost it provided was undeniably considerable. The responsibilities were large, and the workload incurred would probably be even larger.
The teachers encouraged me to run for the spot, although I cannot deny that the consistency of my (barely average) grades was likely one of the reasons they wanted me to compete for the role. Apparently, they had faith that I was able to make it.
On the other hand, many were doubtful that I was able to juggle between presidential duties and the rigour of academics, myself included. I already almost failed my ‘O’ Levels, how could I handle this? Being already in the danger zone of retaining, my plate was seemingly full, and adding more to that wobbly plate didn’t seem like the best idea.
I went for it anyway. Amazing idea, I know. What could go wrong?
Listen to: To Be Alive by Puppet & Aaron Richards
At that time, I suppose that I took it on as a challenge. Prove the doubters (including myself) wrong. Pushing my own limits to better myself as a person. That was what I joined Council for in the first place, right?
The next few weeks was nothing short of intense. I had to come up with my own presidential campaign with my team to convince the school population that I could be the Council President for this term. Deep within my mind, I low-key knew that I couldn’t win, and was completely okay with being a vice-president (which I did end up becoming).
To others though, I already was the President. It was what I wanted to be, what I’m aiming for. My classmates and friends were mostly very supportive, and without them, I wouldn’t have been able to push myself through this period.
Soon enough, we were approaching the end of the year. It was time for our ‘A’ Levels — or at least our H1 content subject. My maths had never been the best, scoring a very solid U (ungraded) in my block test at the start of the year. My mid-years and prelims weren’t much better, both netting me a U grade. Extremely consistent, like my teachers reckoned.
I wouldn’t say that getting U grades for my school tests and exams for H1 Mathematics was intentional. The better way to put it was that it was an unfortunate byproduct of an intentional decision, which was to focus on promoting and working on my Project Work, before turning my attention to maths.
As it turns out, I promoted. Yay. I got B for both my H1 Mathematics and PW. Till today, my friend loves to point out that,
“The only time you didn’t get U for maths, was during A Levels.”
In all honesty, I was taking a huge risk. I was betting that in the few months I had after the end of year examinations, I was able to catch up with all the maths content that I had missed out, and be able to practice enough so that I was able to get a decent grade. It was somewhat of a calculated risk, and given the circumstances, I would probably do it again.
With that said, I was extremely lucky to have teachers who would push me even if I didn’t. Without them, I wouldn’t even have done the bare minimum to be able to understand the raw concepts of what was going on in class.
This was coupled by amazing friends who glared at me disapprovingly when I slacked, and guided me through questions that stumped me. Some of these said friends were even already in university and had their own busy schedules, yet they still set time aside to help me through what I would consider the most stressful period of my life, academically. I am beyond thankful for them.
The End
Year 3 was, all things considered, boring. Studying for an exam can’t be very interesting, and with our CCAs behind us, studying was legitimately the only thing left for us to do, and rightfully so. My memory of this period isn’t strong, likely because of how mundane it was. Mundane, but structured.
On school days, I would more often than not lock myself in one of the discussion rooms in the library after lessons ended, and study until the librarian had to chase me out.
Over the weekends, my body would, without fail, wake me up anywhere between 7.30am and 9am. Being unable to fall back asleep, I’d wake up, freshen myself up with some YouTube and Reddit, a few slices of bread with a wide variety of ingredients in between and a cold cup of milk, and proceed to study.
Looking back at my calendar, throughout the half-year where our only commitment was studying, my calendar was empty when compared to the same time in 2016. Perhaps a few social meetings here and there, a couple of birthday celebrations, and that was it.
Everything else was either consultations with teachers or people’s birthdays.
I remember the rush to book consultation slots with different teachers for each of my subjects. Every teacher’s slots were getting filled up by the minute. It was like buying tickets to a popular musician’s concert. People were asking friends if they could join in on their consultation slots since they couldn’t secure any for themselves, and it got to a point where some (thankfully none in my class) refused to share their slots.
It was the most “toxic” that my batch had gotten in the 3 years I’ve been in MI. Well, other than the fact that the people in my batch shuffled around and changed a ton, but that’s another story for another day.
Listen to: falling in reverse by EDEN
The start of November marked the beginning of the 2019 ‘A’ Level season. Our first paper, GP, was on the 4th of November, and the stakes were high.
I was still scarred by what I experienced 3 years prior, and I didn’t know if I was ready, both for the examinations, and the almost 3 months of waiting that entailed afterward. One could imagine the “what ifs” that ran through my brain. I didn’t need another disaster, because if that was the case, I would legitimately have nowhere to go.
But what could I do? Time doesn’t wait for my overactive brain to stop thinking of scenarios that I hope won’t happen. It keeps going, and I’d have no choice but to face it.
Exactly 29 days later on the 3rd December, my last paper started. It was for Accounting’s Paper 2, and was set on a date where most students would have already finished the entirety of their ‘A’ Levels. And when I mean most, I literally mean basically everyone except for accounting students and certain students who took a H3 subject. As far as the majority of students in Singapore was concerned, exam season was over, it was play time.
However, for me, I’ve been through hell and high water to get to this point, and I couldn’t stop here. Grabbing from my bag what I needed, I stepped into the hall for the last time as a student of Millennia Institute.
The next 3 months went by very quickly. I flew overseas to visit the relatives that I hadn’t visited for 3 years, and visited Shanghai for the first time. Back home, I founded a brand new department in SGExams —Marketing & Communications — to help better reach out to students in the student community. I also started driving lessons. Fun times.
Things were looking good, and for the first time in forever, I was free from school and was genuinely happy with what I was doing. I was getting the occasional nightmare about results day, but let’s put that aside and let past me be happy.
Anti-Climax
It was February, and everyone knew at that point that results day was going to be different. A pandemic was raging, and everyone was concerned for their health. We were given the option to collect our results online, but most of us chose to collect it in school. Despite anything that may have happened in school in the past, being around your schoolmates to collect our results still provided a sense of community and comfort.
We were confined to our classes, and our principal recorded a video to talk to us and show us our batch’s achievements. I didn’t expect my name to be up there in the top scorers list, but I had a sliver of hope.
Of course, I wouldn’t be rewarded for hoping for something so unrealistic.
At some point in time, I teared up. My brain couldn’t stop thinking about the past, I honestly was about to break down at that point. The scenario of getting something not ideal was scaring me way too much, and I simply wanted to get my results and crawl somewhere in shame.
When I actually got my results slip, I didn’t want to open it. I didn’t hear what my teachers were saying to me as they passed me my results slip. No more words could describe how terrified I was. It was paralysing. At that point in time, I knew the exact scores of the courses that I wanted to go, and having my scores fall short would crush me, again.
Do or die, I suppose, I thought to myself as I flipped over my results slip and prayed for the best.
- Accounting: B
- Management of Business: C
- Economics: C
- General Paper: D
Two Cs, one B, one D. Didn’t look good at all. A quick calculation shows 71.25. Minimally 5 points away from the cut-off. Well, shit.
I mean, it’s above 70, that’s something, right?
The day before, I went drinking with my friend to discuss the possibilities, and so I called the same friend to break the news. I didn’t know what to feel. It was such a mediocre score, and while it didn’t meet any of the IGP for the courses I wanted, it met the IGP of some of the alternative courses that I picked out.
The long day of having a near breakdown ended in a score that was so…in-between. I could only feel indifferent.
I spent the next month mulling over my university applications: writing essays, asking teachers for recommendation letters, all that standard stuff.
I suppose that in that month, I kind of accepted my score, and was just hoping for the best. I had a decent portfolio, and if anything that anyone has said about university admissions have any weight, it would help propel me into a course of my choice.
Finding Gold
Listen to: The Fire by The Eden Project & Puppet
University applications for most universities closed on the 19 March. Mine was all done and dusted, and it was just waiting for the universities to reply.
2020 was an extremely uncertain year for many things due to the pandemic, and university applications were no exception. Schools were taking longer to reply, and with the measures that the government implemented, we could no longer go to the universities in person for interviews. Zoom interviews were all the rage, and technical issues were even more common.
Online discussions went crazy over how competitive it would be, since students who previously intended to go overseas were more inclined to stay in Singapore. This pushed the score requirements even higher, or “spoiling the market” as I’d like to call it. Suddenly, the competition to get a spot in one of the coveted universities got even more competitive.
Adding even more confusion into the mix was the addition of Aptitude Based Assessment (ABA) in replacement of Discretionary Admission (DA), which assesses students holistically based on their activities outside of school. While there was DA in previous years, ABA promised more focus on aptitude and interest, and even more places would be offered through the scheme (about 15% with DA, as compared to as much as 50% with ABA).
The government and universities said that they are assessing us “holistically”, but nobody knew what exactly “holistically” meant. There were no clear guidelines, and every school assessed students seemingly differently. It was chaos.
Over the course of the next month, I got interviews from SUSS, SMU, and NTU. All 3 were for my first choice course, Accountancy, although none of the interviews turned out to be much about accountancy at all.
Soon after, SUSS offered me a spot. I was pretty happy that a university wanted me. It meant that I had a place to go, and that was all I needed at that time. The other universities were still my goal, though they were still radio silent.
Half a month later, SMU sent me an email. It brought my hopes up until I opened the e-letter.
I was rejected.
SMU had always been a university that caught my eye. They were young, innovative, and was situated at the heart of the CBD. They marketed heavily towards students in MI, and they sent people for talks multiple times. Even within my class, there was much buzz about going to SMU as a first choice university.
To see that they’d rejected me was a disappointment. Being a school that prides itself on looking at students holistically, I thought that I may have had a better chance at an offer, given my portfolio. Heck, a senior of mine got into a course in SMU with an 11 point difference in IGP.
A day later, NTU sent an email:
Now, imagine this. You’re applying to a dream course and you’re hoping for a miracle because you don’t meet the IGP of the course, and you get this email. It’s so crazily suspenseful, to the point of being absolutely infuriating.
If you could see through my webcam, you would’ve seen me curse very visibly as I clicked on the hyperlink. I expected an e-letter, but nope. Got thrown to the application login portal. Guess I’m logging in. I scroll down to see a hyperlink with the test “Letter dated 4 May 2020”:
This was it. The link that had the letter addressed to me to either offer me a spot or reject me.
After SMU’s rejection, I carelessly opened the link, anticipating another rejection letter. Considering NUS’ speed of response, nothing much was expected, and I was preparing myself to enroll in SUSS.
As the letter loaded, the first word I saw was
Congratulations!
At that point, I thought I was hallucinating.
The next line read:
… is pleased to offer you admission into Accountancy…
I spent the next few minutes rereading the letter, and occasionally pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Jackpot. I’ve hit gold. THIS WAS IT! This was the letter I waited 3 years for. The years of hard work, pain, defeat, and everything else a struggling student could ever face, have all paid off. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
As I write this, I’m still feeling the goosebumps of excitement as I reread this letter over and over again. Almost a month later, the feeling of surrealness still hasn’t gone away, and the joy is indescribable.
Coming from a situation where I almost failed my O Levels, this was the pinnacle. I didn’t need a scholarship, I didn’t need 90RP, I didn’t need law or medicine school or computer science or whatever course was trending right now.
This letter was it.
It was a complete validation to myself that despite everything that the doubters have said over the years, I had it in me.
From sieving through the scraps that were my disastrous ‘O’ Levels, I found the gold that I’ve been yearning for since I entered MI. Even so, I would never have believed it if you had told me I’d have entered NTU Nanyang Business School. It was something so unrealistic at that time, I would’ve scoffed and waved the thought away.
Of course, this wouldn’t have been possible without my wonderful circle of friends around me, who supported me when I desperately needed someone to lean on. We had fun together over the years, creating memories that I will never forget.
As I’m writing this, the clock is ticking towards midnight of the deadline to accept a university course. I look back at everything that has happened over the years, and I can confidently say that the memories of the three years spent in MI, be it good or bad, will never be forgotten.
The year is 2020. Through fire and flames, I’ve made it. It’s not the top of the world, but it’s a place that I’m happy with. The sky’s the limit, but the sky is infinite. Break boundaries and push beyond the perceived limits. You might just surprise yourself.
Through hopelessness and despair, as long as you chip hard and chip smart, you’ll be able to find a shine in the darkness. With that, press on, work hard, and make the world your oyster.
