Every year, when examination results are released and university admissions begin, thousands of young people across Ghana face one of the most consequential moments of their lives.

Some gain admission to the programmes they have dreamed about for years. Others, despite strong academic performance, discover that highly competitive cut-off points, limited spaces or institutional requirements have placed those programmes beyond their immediate reach.

For a young person, that moment can feel devastating.

I understand that feeling.

As a science student, I once imagined a future in aviation. I wanted to become a pilot and associated that ambition with science and engineering pathways, including aerospace engineering.

Then came the realities of university admission. The requirements of some of the pathways I was considering made that dream difficult to pursue as I had imagined. My parents and I therefore had to make a decision.

I eventually studied Public Administration.

It was not the future the younger version of me had planned. But it became the beginning of another pathway. My interests gradually shifted towards people, organisations and work. I moved into Human Resource Management, postgraduate education and research, and eventually earned a PhD in Human Resource Management.

I did not become a pilot.

Yet I have never considered the direction my life took to be a lesser future.

It was simply a different pathway.

A cut-off point is not a verdict

Universities need admission standards, and some programmes are naturally more competitive because there are far more qualified applicants than available places.

The difficulty arises when young people begin to interpret an admission outcome as a judgement on their overall ability.

A cut-off point performs an admissions function. It cannot fully measure curiosity, creativity, resilience, problem-solving ability or future professional contribution.

A relatively small difference in examination aggregates can determine whether one student enters a particular programme and another does not. But that difference should not lead the second student to conclude, “I am not good enough.”

Admission decisions determine access to a particular opportunity at a particular point in time. They should not define a person’s entire future.

We must broaden the conversation around science

This is especially important for science students.

In Ghana, we sometimes grow up with a narrow understanding of where science should lead. Medicine is highly prized. Traditional engineering disciplines are prominent. Pharmacy and a few other professions are familiar to most students and parents.

But the science and technology landscape is changing rapidly.

Biomedical Engineering is one example. Artificial Intelligence and Data Science are creating new professional opportunities. Cybersecurity has become central to protecting businesses, governments and individuals in an increasingly digital society. Robotics combines mechanical systems, electronics and computing. Healthcare itself is becoming more dependent on intelligent systems, biomedical devices, data analysis and advanced technologies.

Perhaps, therefore, the question we ask young people should change. Instead of asking only, “Which course can your grades get you into?”, we should also ask, “What problems do you want to solve, and what capabilities do you need to solve them?”

That is a much richer conversation.

Consider Biomedical Engineering

Biomedical Engineering illustrates this particularly well. At its core, it applies engineering principles and technology to problems in medicine and healthcare.

Think about medical imaging systems, prosthetics, rehabilitation technologies, patient-monitoring devices, biomedical sensors and the growing application of artificial intelligence in healthcare.

These require people who can operate across disciplines. A biomedical engineer may need to understand engineering, computing, human physiology, data and design at the same time.

For Africa, this is especially important. Our healthcare needs cannot always be addressed simply by importing technologies designed for other contexts. We also need engineers and innovators who understand local realities and can develop technologies that are affordable, maintainable and appropriate to our health systems.

This is why interdisciplinary education matters.

At Academic City University, where I currently serve, Biomedical Engineering students are exposed to areas such as programming, artificial intelligence, biomedical imaging, biomechanics, medical devices and rehabilitation engineering alongside their core engineering education.

I mention this not simply to highlight one institution, but because it reflects a broader transformation taking place in higher education.

The boundaries between disciplines are becoming increasingly porous. The engineer of the future may need business knowledge. The manager may need technological and data literacy. The healthcare professional will increasingly work with AI-enabled systems. The entrepreneur may need to combine technical knowledge with leadership and an understanding of human behaviour.

Parents also have an important role

Parents have a significant responsibility during the admissions period. When a young person does not gain admission to a preferred programme, the response should not simply be, “Choose whatever is available.”

A better conversation asks: What is the student genuinely interested in? What abilities have they demonstrated? What other programmes connect with those interests? What emerging fields might they not yet know about? Which institutions offer credible pathways in those areas?

My own parents helped me make such a decision when my original plans were changing. The destination turned out very differently from what I had imagined, but that redirection mattered.

Redirection should not mean surrendering ambition. Sometimes it means finding another route towards it.

More than one pathway

When admission lists are released, there will always be celebration and disappointment. What should not be inevitable is the belief that failing to enter one highly competitive programme means that a young person has failed.

There are many ways to build a meaningful career. Looking back, I sometimes wonder what my life would have looked like had my original aviation dream worked exactly as planned.

Perhaps I would have become a pilot.

Perhaps I would have followed an entirely different path.

I cannot know.

What I do know is that one closed pathway did not close my future.

That is the message I would want every young person navigating university admissions to remember.

Explore widely. Ask questions. Learn about emerging fields. Do not allow a single cut-off point to become a judgement on your potential. Your career is larger than one admission decision. And increasingly, there is more than one pathway to the future you want.

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Dr Reginald Arthur, Director for Graduate and Executive Education - Business Administration and Communication Arts, Academic City University