By Nahrizul Adib Kadri
SPM results are out today.
For many 17-year-olds across the country, this will be a day to remember. For some, it’s the best day of their lives—finally seeing the fruits of their sleepless nights, the tuition marathons, and the prayers of hopeful parents. For others, it may feel like the end of the world. I’ve seen both sides. I’ve been both.
My SPM results came out in 1992. That was 33 years ago. And yet, I still remember the pressure—not so much about the grades themselves, but what came after. The pressure to choose the “correct” path. The “right” course. The “perfect” university. The “sure-win” future.
And the truth is, at 17, who really knows?
Well, I certainly didn’t. But I did what many do—I followed my childhood ambition. I wanted to become a doctor. It sounded noble, respectable, and, honestly, a little cool. Plus, I had the results to back it up. So when I was offered a spot in the foundation programme for a medical school in Australia under a JPA scholarship, it felt like a dream come true. All systems go.
Until it wasn’t.
I failed my first year. Not just barely—properly failed. The kind of fail where you don’t just repeat a paper, but the whole year, because the system ran by terms. It was embarrassing. Painful. Confusing.
Still, I pushed through. Repeated the year, picked myself up, moved forward. Barely passed the first and second years.
And then, I failed again in my third year. This time, JPA said, “Come home.”
Was it the wrong choice? Maybe, maybe not. Was it the right thing to happen? Maybe, maybe not.
I’m now a professor of biomedical engineering at the top university in Malaysia. I’ve had the privilege of teaching hundreds—if not thousands—of bright young minds. I’ve travelled. I’ve spoken at conferences. I’ve written papers and articles and perhaps even inspired a handful of students (hopefully) along the way. In my capacity as the Fellow and Principal of UM residential colleges, I’ve been involved in various community work—from feeding the homeless in downtown KL, to outreach programmes with urban poor children in the PPRs. It’s all part of the same journey: trying to be useful, in whatever way I can.
Does that mean I’m successful now? Maybe. Maybe not.
You see, life is a really, really long journey. And wherever you are now—whether celebrating or crying, whether on a high or at rock bottom—you are simply at one leg of that journey. You are not defined by your results, but by what you do with them next.
And more importantly, you are not the sum of your choices, but the product of your attitude towards those choices.
In hindsight, maybe medicine wasn’t my true path. Or maybe it was, and I just took the scenic route into academia. Maybe those failures were the universe’s way of nudging me toward where I truly belong.
Because here’s the thing: life rarely unfolds the way we plan it. It meanders. It throws detours. It gives us wins and losses, breakthroughs and breakdowns. And through it all, we evolve. We adapt. We make meaning out of our experiences.
So rather than obsessing over whether a decision is “right” or “wrong,” perhaps the better question is: Do I have the right attitude to see this through?
James Clear, in his bestselling book Atomic Habits, says, “Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.” At 17, you won’t have all the answers. You won’t know where your path will take you. But if you show up, consistently and wholeheartedly, you’ll cast enough votes to become someone you can be proud of.
I didn’t become a doctor. But I became someone else—someone I dare say my younger self would still respect.
So to those receiving your SPM results today, I offer you this: Celebrate if you’ve done well. You deserve it. And if you haven’t done as well as you hoped, grieve if you need to. It’s okay. But don’t stop there.
Whatever path you choose next—pre-U, A-Levels, IB, matriculation, diploma, STPM, or even taking a break—commit to it fully. Be present. Be curious. Be kind. Work hard. Not because the world is watching, but because your future self is counting on you.
Don’t be paralysed by the need to pick the “right” road. Life is not a one-way street. It’s more like a roundabout—with plenty of exits, re-entries, and unexpected turns. You’ll find your way, even if it takes a few extra loops, or a re-route after you missed an exit.
And in the end, wherever you are—that’s where you were meant to be.
Ir. Dr. Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering and Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Malaya. He may be reached at nahrizuladib@um.edu.my