Why Share This Story?

You might wonder, “Why write this? Is there a lesson to teach?” There isn’t one. I’m simply sharing my story—nothing more, nothing less. This is a space where you’re free to listen, not agree or disagree.

It’s a glimpse into how someone else navigated the world—knocking on doors, sometimes hearing “no,” not because of effort or ability, but because of a name on a diploma. Yet what truly opened doors was resilience, curiosity, and a willingness to learn and adapt.

As I’ve lived and shared this journey, I’ve come to understand one thing: the more you know, the more you realize how much you don’t know. This, for me, is not a weakness—but an invitation. An invitation to keep questioning, keep learning, and keep opening new doors together.

The Full Story

The Doors That Closed — And the Paths I Opened: My Story in Global Higher Education

From Manchester to Zurich, from Kyiv to classrooms around the world, his journey has been shaped by a sustained passion for learning. Speaking six languages and working in the education sector since 2005, he has built a résumé that reflects both breadth and depth. His academic path includes degrees and training from Switzerland, the United Kingdom, the United States, and several other countries often ranked among the world’s leading education hubs. He has studied at respected institutions, collaborated with leaders in his field, and earned qualifications that could fill an entire wall.

And yet… even with all that, he still heard “no.”

Not because he lacked skills. Not because he hadn’t worked hard enough. But because, in certain rooms, the name of the institution mattered more than the name of the person. The right logo on the diploma could open a door instantly. The “wrong” one — even if it came with world-class learning — might not even get a glance.

They say education opens doors — and for many, it does.

I believed that promise with all my heart — like millions of students born in the ’80s, I was taught that education would shape my future. I poured years of my life into studying, earning degrees, and following the rules I was told would lead to success. I stayed up late, worked through weekends, learned new languages, and sacrificed more than I can count — because I believed hard work and education would open every door.

And yes… some doors did open. But not all.

There were doors I knocked on again and again, only to be told they weren’t for me. Not because I lacked ability, but because my diploma didn’t carry the “right” name. Not from the elite circle. Not from the centuries-old institution with a famous alumni list. Not connected enough to the networks that quietly run the world.

I’ve met people with the same story — a brilliant leader who speaks three languages but was told her degree “doesn’t carry enough weight” abroad. A teacher who poured 20 years into shaping young minds, only to be rejected from an international school because their university wasn’t on the “elite” list. A researcher who published groundbreaking work but was told he needed a “better” alma mater before anyone would take him seriously.

This isn’t an attack on prestigious universities. It’s a reality check. And it’s also a celebration — of those who didn’t stop.

Because the truth is, what matters most is not where you studied, but what you do with what you learned.

I’ve studied alongside former professors as my classmates. I’ve pursued degrees in English, German, and other languages, across legal systems I didn’t grow up in. I have walked into classrooms where I barely spoke the language compared to the native speakers — and walked out with distinction. I’ve been told “no” more times than I can count, and every time, I found another way forward.

If you’ve ever been told your hard work “isn’t enough” because of the name on your diploma — this story is for you.
If you’ve ever applied for something and been told you’re “not the right fit” — this story is for you.
If you’ve ever wondered whether your dream university will decide your future — this story is for you.

This is more than my academic record. It’s proof that resilience, adaptability, and relentless learning matter more than any logo on a certificate.

And maybe — just maybe — it will remind you to never stop knocking, even when the doors aren’t opening. Because sometimes, the most important door is the one you build yourself.

Where It All Began

Like many born in the ’80s, I grew up believing in the promise of education.
We were the generation told that if we studied hard, got good grades, and collected degrees, the world would open its doors to us. I wasn’t born into a powerful family or an elite social circle. What I had was ambition, curiosity, and an almost stubborn willingness to work hard.

While other kids dreamed of being astronauts or pop stars, my early fascinations were different. I was drawn to business, law, and international relations — fields that promised both intellectual challenge and the chance to influence the real world. I devoured news stories about global markets, corporate mergers, and diplomatic breakthroughs, imagining one day I’d be part of that conversation.

After considering many options, I chose to enroll at Manchester Metropolitan University (MMU) a famous university in the United Kingdom.
Was it Cambridge or Oxford? No. MMU wasn’t in the Russell Group, nor in the top 100 globally. But it was a respected, state-accredited university with a diverse international student body, strong business programs, and, crucially, one of the few at the time offering a practical degree in International Business taught entirely in English — a language that was neither my first nor my second.

The Struggle Years

My bachelor’s years were far from glamorous. I wasn’t a straight-A student. I failed exams. I had to retake coursework. I watched some classmates breeze through assignments while I wrestled with the language, the concepts, and the cultural differences. But every failure came with a choice — quit or try again. I chose “try again.” Every time. That became the defining rhythm of my academic life.

I wasn’t alone in this. There was a friend from Asia who worked night shifts at a hotel to pay tuition, often coming to class still in his uniform. A classmate from Eastern Europe who almost dropped out when her visa renewal was delayed, yet somehow returned after weeks of uncertainty. We weren’t the privileged few; we were the persistent many.

Eventually, I graduated with Honours — not because I was naturally gifted, but because I refused to give up. My final thesis carried me across the finish line.

A Swiss Case Study

For my dissertation, I focused on Mövenpick, the Swiss hospitality brand, and wrote “The Impact of Training on Employee Satisfaction.” I explored how strategic training could empower staff, improve service quality, and ultimately create unforgettable customer experiences.

What I discovered surprised me. Training wasn’t just about improving skills — it was about building confidence, trust, and pride. I interviewed staff who spoke of feeling “valued” for the first time after proper training. I saw how motivated employees could transform an ordinary hotel stay into something remarkable. That project planted a seed in my mind: knowledge isn’t powerful until it’s applied.

A Taste of Law

During my studies, I developed a curiosity for the legal dimensions of business — contracts, compliance, and the fine print that shapes how companies operate. This led me to pursue a Level 7 Diploma in Business Law, a UK Ofqual-regulated qualification at the postgraduate level. It was an intense program covering corporate law, international regulations, and business ethics. For me, it wasn’t just a diploma — it was another brick in the foundation I was building for my future.

Cambridge Calling… Almost

Armed with my bachelor’s degree with honours from MMU — a British state-accredited university — and a postgraduate diploma regulated by Ofqual — the UK’s qualifications authority — I decided to aim high and apply for a Master’s in Business Administration at the University of Cambridge. My CV showcased academic achievement, real-world experience, and fluency in multiple languages. Surely, I thought, I had a shot.

Cambridge responded exactly how you’d expect: politely, formally, and… with a “no.”
When I inquired further, the subtext became clearer — my background didn’t match their informal expectations. They preferred candidates from the Russell Group or Oxbridge itself. My MMU degree and Ofqual diploma, despite being legitimate and accredited, weren’t considered “elite” enough.

That rejection stung. Not because I thought I deserved Cambridge, but because I had done everything “right” — studied in English, passed through regulated academic systems, engaged in real industry projects — and still, it wasn’t enough.

The Lesson Hidden in “No”

It took time to see it, but that “no” wasn’t an ending. It was a redirection. Over the years, I’ve met others with similar stories — a lawyer from Latin America who was top of her class but rejected from a European scholarship because her university “wasn’t recognized enough,” an African engineer whose decade of experience couldn’t offset the fact that his degree came from an unknown local college.

These moments teach you that education really does open doors — but not all of them. And when one stays shut, you have to be ready to find another door… or build one yourself.

The Shift That Changed Everything

After the Cambridge disappointment, I decided to turn my gaze toward continental Europe — and in particular, Switzerland, a country whose name is synonymous with quality, precision, and world-class education.

By that point, I was already living and working there, holding a solid position at Benedict Schools Zurich, one of the country’s most prominent private educational networks. With more than 18,000 students each year, the campus buzzed with the rhythm of lectures, exams, and the quiet hum of ambition.

My role was senior administrative and academic support — close enough to the heart of operations to see how the Swiss education system really functioned. Every day, I worked alongside Swiss professionals, interacted with German-speaking students, and supported top-level instructors. I saw how meticulous lesson plans were crafted, how every assessment was documented, and how deadlines were treated like law.

It didn’t take me long to realize: if I wanted to keep growing, I’d need a program that both respected the work I’d already done and fit into the demanding schedule I was juggling.

The ETH Temptation

Naturally, my eyes turned first to ETH Zurich — a global academic giant, often ranked among the top ten universities in the world. Their MBA program had an aura about it: prestigious, elite… and staggeringly expensive. The tuition alone was about CHF 80,000, but when you factored in administrative fees, project costs, travel, and the inevitable “extras,” the full cost could climb past CHF 100,000 (over USD 120,000 or EUR 110,000).

I remember talking to a colleague over coffee in the staff lounge. He’d done the "elite" degree years earlier. “It’s worth it,” he said with a knowing smile, “but you’ll need deep pockets — and deeper patience.” He explained how the networking was unmatched, but also how it had left him paying off loans well into his forties.

That was a reality check. I wanted excellence, but I also needed pragmatism.

Finding My Swiss Fit

That’s when I discovered ZFH – Zürcher Fachhochschule, known in English as Zurich University of Applied Sciences. While not as famous as ETH, ZFH was still ranked among the top 800 universities worldwide. Today, it's accredited by AACSB, EFMD, and AMBA, and is highly respected in the German-speaking world. Its degrees carried full recognition from the Swiss government, and the MBA program was designed for working professionals.

The catch? Classes were conducted entirely in German, and the cohort wasn’t made up of fresh graduates — it was filled with senior managers, CEOs, and corporate leaders. I was not only the youngest in the room and the only non-native German speaker, but, as the Dean of the MBA program later told me, I was the youngest person ever to be accepted into the program.

One of my classmates was a senior executive at one of Switzerland’s largest companies. Another classmate had once been my lecturer in an earlier program. The moment I saw him walk into the classroom as my peer, I couldn’t help but smile to myself — life has a way of turning the tables and humbling you in the most unexpected ways.

The Climb

The program was no walk in the park. I had to absorb complex business theories, economic models, and legal frameworks in a language I’d only learned well enough to survive daily life. Writing a grocery list in German was one thing; writing a 30-page paper on corporate governance was another.

But I kept going. Every group project meant late nights, and every presentation felt like a linguistic obstacle course. One case study stands out in my memory — I stumbled over a very hard German word, sometimes German words are like 5 words in 1 word. The room filled with laughter — not cruel, but the kind of warm chuckle that says we’ve all been there. Still, it was a reminder of how much I was stretching beyond my comfort zone.

Months later, the stage shifted to the United States for our exchange weeks at the Darden School of Business. This time, the program was in English, and the dynamic flipped. My classmates, accustomed to studying in their native German, were now the ones adapting. To their surprise, I thrived. Two of them told me they felt I performed on par with UVA’s professors. One professor from India even joked mid-lecture that I had spoken more than he did that day — only because the topic was IT management, a field where I felt completely at home.

Over time, I became not just competent, but confident. My work improved. My grades improved. And eventually, I graduated with an MBA from ZFH, a degree I earned through persistence, adaptation, and the willingness to feel uncomfortable every single day.

Another Closed Door

With my new MBA in hand, I thought: Now, ETH will take me for a doctorate.
But the Swiss academic hierarchy can be as rigid as the Alps are tall. ETH didn’t formally reject me — they simply didn’t accept the MBA as qualifying for doctoral entry. Their criteria were clear: unless your previous degree came from one of Switzerland’s top 12 universities, the door stayed shut.

It wasn’t personal. It was policy. But in that moment, it felt like déjà vu — another locked door, another polite “no” that wasn’t really about ability.

What I didn’t know then was that this pattern — of finding my own path when the “obvious” one was blocked — would keep repeating. And every time, I’d get better at navigating it.

Beyond Borders

After completing my BA (Hons) from Manchester Metropolitan University (MMU) and a Level 7 Diploma from a UK Ofqual-regulated body, I felt proud of the ground I’d covered. Those qualifications had already helped me secure admission into the MBA program at ZFH in Switzerland — a respected, state-accredited institution.

And yet, if a BA (Hons) from a state-accredited university in Manchester, a British state-recognized postgraduate diploma, and an MBA from a state-accredited university in Zurich weren’t considered “good enough” for a PhD, I thought — why not try a Level 8 diploma?

For those unfamiliar, Level 8 is the highest level on the UK Regulated Qualifications Framework — equivalent to a doctoral diploma — and in this case, it was also officially recognized by Ofqual.

Now I had more than enough letters after my name: a BA, an MBA, and two postgraduate diplomas at Levels 7 and 8. Surely, I thought, this combination would finally unlock the doors at Cambridge or ETH Zurich.

At the time, the next step felt obvious. If Level 7 had opened doors, Level 8 should be the master key. I pictured myself walking the historic halls of Cambridge, or sitting in ETH’s glass-walled seminar rooms overlooking Zurich, surrounded by scholars from around the globe. My qualifications were UK state-accredited, my MBA was Swiss state-accredited — surely that was enough.

It wasn’t.

Both institutions responded with polite, carefully worded rejections. My diplomas, while legitimate and recognized by their issuing governments, didn’t fit the unwritten rules of entry into these elite doctoral programs. They wanted degrees from their own circle — Russell Group universities for Cambridge, and one of Switzerland’s top twelve for ETH.

It was frustrating, but also clarifying. I realized that if I kept chasing the same closed doors, I’d spend my life standing outside. It was time to change direction.

Heading East

So I looked further east — to Kyiv, the vibrant capital of Ukraine. The city was buzzing with change, caught between its Soviet past and its European future. Ukraine had declared its aspirations to join the EU, and its universities were modernizing rapidly.

I enrolled in a Master of Laws (MLaw) program at a state university in Kyiv. The environment was different from anything I’d experienced before. Professors blended traditional lecture styles with lively debates. Classmates ranged from fresh graduates to mid-career professionals — one worked in the Ministry of Justice, another in a multinational bank.

Studying there wasn’t just about the coursework; it was about learning how law functioned in a society balancing reform and tradition. I saw how much determination it took to modernize legal frameworks while navigating political challenges.

A Broader Lens

Living in Eastern Europe changed me. I realized that real knowledge isn’t the monopoly of the UK, USA, or Switzerland. It exists in lecture halls in Kyiv, in cafés where students argue about EU law, in courtrooms where young lawyers fight for reforms.

I began to see the academic world differently. Rankings, I understood, are just one lens — and often a narrow one. The world of learning is wider than the top 10 list, and far richer than any reputation.

It was the beginning of a new chapter in my academic journey — one where I stopped asking permission from the same gatekeepers, and started exploring the vast landscape of education on my own terms.

Proud of the Journey, Not Just the Destination

By the time I held a Bachelor with Honours from MMU, a Level 7 diploma from the UK’s Ofqual, an MBA from a Swiss state-accredited university, a Level 8 doctoral diploma from the UK, and an MLaw from a state university in Kyiv, something had shifted inside me.

I realized that earning a PhD from one of the world’s “Top 10” elite universities was no longer my dream. The letters “PhD” mattered, but where they came from mattered far less than what I could do with them.

Instead of chasing a single, shiny destination, I chose to travel, to learn, and to grow — not just once, but over and over again.

Education became a habit. A passion. A lifestyle.

I didn’t stop at one doctorate. I earned several — each from a state-accredited university in a different country, and I started to love traveling and living in different cities. The first was the hardest. Doctoral research isn’t just “a bigger master’s thesis” — it’s an entirely different way of thinking, of questioning, of breaking apart problems and building new frameworks. The process was exhausting, often frustrating, but it taught me how to think in ways I had never imagined before.

Once I learned the method, I never stopped applying it. Each new program was less about collecting a certificate and more about immersing myself in a new culture, a new academic system, and a new network of minds. One doctorate was written in English, another in German, another in a hybrid of languages. Each reflected the unique academic traditions of its country.

Along the way, I met other lifelong learners. A Jordanian entrepreneur earning his PhD in Eastern Europe while running a business back home. A European leader who enrolled in a Central American university’s doctoral program because he wanted to study environmental policy from a tropical perspective. A Kenyan educator who was doing her second doctorate because, as she said, “The first one was for my career. This one is for my soul.”

Today, I’m writing this for the next generation — for the ones who think they must follow a pre-approved path in order to be “successful.” You don’t. You don’t need Cambridge or Harvard to be proud of your education.

I hold multiple doctorates from multiple nations — and every single one of them reflects commitment, not privilege. Every one of them came from the decision to keep learning when it would have been easier to stop.

And yes, I am proud of that.

Studying at the elite "Top 10" Universities

Throughout my lifelong academic journey — which I hope will continue until my final day — I’ve made it a point to learn not only from formal degrees, but also from experiences.

That’s why I sought out executive and academic courses at some of the most prestigious universities in the world:

Harvard University
University of Virginia
University of Oxford
University of Cambridge
ETH Zurich

These were not online badges or quick one-hour webinars. Back then, online learning wasn’t the norm. If you wanted the experience, you packed your bags, boarded a plane, and showed up in the lecture hall.

I flew to Oxford for a course and walked its centuries-old courtyards. I later returned to study at Cambridge, soaking in the mix of tradition and academic energy. I enrolled at ETH Zurich, not far from where I lived at the time, and crossed the Atlantic to attend programs at Virginia and other US universities.

I didn’t go for prestige. I didn’t go to collect logos for my résumé. I went because I wanted to see firsthand how these institutions taught — to sit in their classrooms, hear their professors speak, debate with their students, and immerse myself in their academic culture.

And what did I find?

Yes — these institutions are legendary for a reason. They carry history, tradition, and a reputation that draws some of the brightest minds. But when I compared the quality of teaching, the level of class interaction, and the depth of academic material to what I’d experienced at MMU, ZFH, or other state-accredited universities, the gap wasn’t as dramatic as the branding suggests.

The biggest difference wasn’t in the content. It was in the aura. In the weight those names carry when spoken aloud. In how the world treats a certificate stamped “Harvard” or “Oxford” compared to one from anywhere else.

As someone who values knowledge over status, that realization stayed with me. True education, I learned, is not defined by where you study, but by how deeply you choose to learn.

The Real Credential

I never stopped learning — and I never will. But let me be honest with students reading this: sometimes, what changes your life isn’t a degree. It’s a six-week course that gives you the exact skill you need to make a real difference.

We’ve all heard the stories — some of the richest and most influential people in the world never finished university. That path doesn’t work for everyone, but it does prove one thing: learning comes in many forms.

Over the years, I’ve taken dozens of short, intensive courses. Some were at famous names like Harvard or Cambridge. Others came from smaller, specialized institutions you might never have heard of — but they gave me knowledge I used the very next day at work.

One thing I learned quickly: a well-designed, focused course can go deeper than a full university module, because it’s concentrated on one skill, taught by someone who lives and breathes it.

IT & Digital Competence

Digital Forensic Investigator (CHFI®) – EC-Council University, USA
IT Service Management (ITIL®) Certificate – AXELOS Institute, UK
Service Integration & Management Professional (SIAM®) – BCS, The Chartered Institute for IT, UK
Service Management Approach for the Digital Age (VeriSM®) – International Foundation of Digital Competences, Netherlands
Microsoft Office Specialist Expert – Microsoft, USA

Quality & Risk Management

Certified Lean Six Sigma Black Belt™ (ICBB™) – International Association for Six Sigma Certification, USA
Projects in Controlled Environments (PRINCE2®) – AXELOS Institute, UK
ISO 9001 Certified Auditor – Global Association for Quality Management (GAQM), India
Business Continuity Management Certificate – EXIN Institute, Netherlands

Excellence & Organizational Leadership

Leader for Excellence Certificate – European Foundation for Quality Management (EFQM), Belgium
Journey to Excellence Training Certificate – EFQM, Belgium
Quality Assured Learning: Guidance for Continuous Improvement – European Council for Business Education (ECBE), Serbia

Professional Development & Specialized Training

Serve & Sell Certificate – SYME Training & Tools, Switzerland
Accredited Management Accountant® – GAFM Academy, USA
First-Class Gastro Cigar Service Certificate – Davidoff, Basel, Switzerland
COVID-19 Webinar Series Certificate – Mayo Clinic College of Medicine and Science, USA

Academic & Executive Certificates from Top-Ranked Universities

These weren’t just symbolic certificates — they were practical, hands-on learning experiences that left a lasting impact:

Urbanization: Opportunity or Challenge – Swiss Federal Institute of Technology (ETH Zurich), Switzerland
Certificate for Marketing Executives – University of Virginia, USA
Question Formulation Technique – Harvard University, USA
Explorations of Spirituality – University of Oxford, UK
Medieval Culture – University of Cambridge, UK

I traveled for these programs. I sat in lecture halls, debated with peers from different countries, and absorbed not just the content, but the energy of learning environments that push you to think differently.

Because while a university degree teaches you a thousand things…
real life often asks you for just one — used wisely, and used well.

Recognition Along the Way

After all these years of learning, building, and moving forward, I’ve come to realize something important: recognition is not the destination — but it is a powerful reminder that the journey mattered.

I’ve been fortunate to receive acknowledgments not just from the institutions where I studied, but also from organizations and leaders who saw the results of my work.

One of the moments I’ll never forget was being called on stage to receive the Best Business Leader Award, jointly presented by Zurich University of Applied Sciences (ZHAW) and the Institute of Leadership & Management (ILM) in the UK. Standing there, I thought about the path that had brought me to that moment — the long nights of study, the languages I had to learn, the rejections I had to turn into redirections.

Another deeply humbling moment was being awarded an Honorary Doctorate from a state university in Eastern Europe. It wasn’t just a recognition of academic milestones, but of the broader journey — the research, the teaching, the mentorship, and the belief that education should be accessible across borders.

There were other certificates, plaques, and letters of appreciation along the way — each with its own story. A recognition from an international education conference where I spoke about cross-cultural leadership. A community contribution award from a museum and hospitality institute that valued the bridge-building work I’d done between cultures.

These awards were never the goal. I didn’t start this journey to collect titles or trophies. But when they come, they are a quiet reminder: persistence leaves a mark, and purpose leaves a legacy.

The Real Lesson — And Why I’m Sharing This

After all the degrees, diplomas, rejections, and global travels, I’ve come to one clear conclusion:

🎓 Education is not about impressing others — it’s about empowering yourself.

You don’t need to be accepted by the world’s top 10 universities to live a meaningful life. You don’t need an “elite” name to make an impact. What you do need is the willingness to keep learning, keep applying, and keep going — no matter how many times the world tells you “no.”

What Truly Matters — Ranked by Importance:

✅ What you apply, build, and contribute
Real impact comes from what you do with your knowledge — not just where you got it from.

✅ Continuous learning and growth
The world changes fast. Staying curious and committed to growth will always keep you relevant.

✅ Real-world value and expertise
Degrees and titles mean little unless you can solve real problems and deliver real results.

✅ Building your own path
Don’t spend your life waiting at someone else’s door. Sometimes the best option is to build your own.

What Doesn’t Really Matter — Let Go of It:

❌ The brand name on your diploma
❌ Whether your school is “elite”
❌ Academic politics and global rankings
❌ Waiting endlessly for acceptance

I’m not chasing ETH, Cambridge, or Harvard anymore.
I’ve walked through different doors. I’ve built my own. And I’m proud of every step.

That’s why I’m sharing this story — not to boast, but to remind the next generation:

Your worth is not in the ranking of your university.
It’s in the kind of person you become — and what you give back to the world.

From the Classroom to the Camera

Education didn’t just open doors to classrooms and boardrooms — it also led me to places I never expected: television studios.

During my journey, I was invited to share my insights on economy-focused talk shows on networks such as CNBC, Sky News, MBC Arabia, and many others. One day I’d be speaking in English to a global business audience, the next in Arabic to a regional market, and sometimes switching languages mid-interview when the discussion called for it.

These weren’t scripted moments. There was no time to rehearse or prepare perfect soundbites. I was often brought in to give immediate reactions to breaking news — a sudden market shift, a geopolitical event, or an economic trend shaking investor confidence. It was the real-time application of everything I’d studied over the years, condensed into clear, actionable insights for millions of viewers.

I remember one segment on CNBC where the host asked me to explain a complex policy in under 60 seconds. Years of academic research had taught me to go deep; television forced me to go fast and clear. On MBC Arabia, I once joined a panel discussing the future of education in the Gulf region. The debate became intense, but I learned that on live TV, respect and diplomacy carry as much weight as expertise.

These experiences reinforced something I’d learned both inside and outside the classroom: knowledge is only powerful when you can communicate it effectively. It’s not enough to know — you must also be able to explain, simplify, and inspire.

Television didn’t change my goals, but it expanded my reach. Instead of just speaking to students in a lecture hall, I was now speaking to millions — from young entrepreneurs in Cairo, to investors in Dubai, to policy-makers in London.

Looking back, I realize those moments weren’t just media appearances. They were another form of education — a reminder that learning and teaching happen everywhere, not just within the walls of a university.

habib al souleiman at KNU university kyiv.jpg

Final Reflection

This isn’t a complaint.
And it’s certainly not a criticism of any university — elite or otherwise.

It’s simply my story — a journey shaped by lessons, resilience, and an unshakable commitment to lifelong learning.

If you’ve ever felt unseen, underestimated, or overlooked simply because of where you studied, know this: you are not alone.

🎓 Your education is what you make of it.
📚 Your future isn’t defined by a brand name — it’s defined by your mindset, your growth, and your actions.

Yes, some doors will close.
But many others will open — especially the ones you build yourself.

So keep learning. Keep growing.
And always remember: you don’t need permission to succeed — only purpose.

With respect and encouragement,
Prof. Dr. Dr. h.c. Habib Al Souleiman
Independent Researcher | International Academic Advisor

Disclaimer

This story reflects my personal academic journey and experiences across various countries, institutions, and educational systems. It is not intended to discredit any university or suggest that one path is better than another.
Every learner's journey is unique, and the right institution or program depends on individual goals, opportunities, and circumstances.
My goal in sharing this story is to inspire students to keep learning, stay resilient, and find their own meaningful path — no matter where they begin.