Banking on Saeeda: from leaving school without GCSEs to becoming an investment banking lawyer

The wonderful thing about this country is that education is mandatory. My parents were first generation British-Pakistani Muslims; my father came over in the ‘60s and my mum 20 years later. Neither went to school, both were illiterate and didn’t speak any English. They sent me to school but struggled to understand or support it. They did the best they could but it’s a stark difference to my children’s upbringing.

I didn’t finish school and left without any GCSEs. I was placed on the Child Protection Register at birth and remained under the care of my local authority throughout my childhood. But I landed on my feet in rural Wales as a young teenager and did my GCSEs on a re-sit course in Shropshire, even though I was taking them for the first time! I couldn’t get travel expenses, so contact time was minimal and I scraped through with what I needed.

Further education wasn’t an option for me. There were no grants, so I signed on at the job centre and got myself a job working there. After everything I’d survived, I just wanted independence. I ended up being seconded to a Whitehall department as part of a homegrown talent programme, and worked on policy development linking worklessness to drug and alcohol abuse.

I remember repeatedly thinking I wasn’t good enough. It was interesting work, but everyone else was a graduate. So, I signed up to law school. I would work all day, leave the office at 5.30pm, have lectures at Birkbeck until 9pm, and then study at the LSE library until after midnight, four nights per week. I did that for four years.

I got to the end of my degree not realising you needed the Legal Practice Course (LPC) before you could practise. So, I had a qualifying law degree and a great job as a civil servant, but I needed an LPC to become a solicitor. I tried repeatedly to get a training contract that would fund one, but the market had dried up as the global financial crisis hit and law firms were deferring trainees from starting, because there was no work.

I thought I might stand a chance of getting a training contract if I had the LPC. I couldn’t fund it myself and applied for the Law Society’s Diversity Access Scheme (DAS). They told me at the interview there were many applicants with compelling cases and asked why they should award me. I remember replying, “it’ll be the best return on your investment. I understand the outcome you’re looking for. If you back me, you’ll get it.” Now, I love helping others in that position.

With DAS funding my LPC, I applied to a new training contract programme at the Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS). I was in France at the time of the advert and my son was a newborn. I remember reading reams and reams on RBS trying to prepare for the application process. They used a blind selection process at each round, which was great because no one cared about which uni I attended or my lack of UCAS points!

I knew straight away during my training that I wanted to be a regulatory lawyer. A role came up during my second seat, but they were looking for someone with post-qualification experience (PQE). I told them I would learn whatever was needed to do the job. After several interviews, I got an offer, which was amazing news to receive just before my wedding.

There used to be stigma around in-house lawyers being somehow sub-standard to private practice ones. But these days, big law firms want you. You’re given a lot of responsibility early on. There isn’t any fee-earning and you’re a cost to the business, so value creation is approached very differently. I sit on the trading floor and help structurers complete complex deals. I understand the policies, processes and procedures of a large bank and how different parts of it interact. This experience and insight are invaluable to any big law firm.

My son loves telling people his mummy is a lawyer. Growing up, the only books we had in the house were the Argos catalogue and the Qur'an. That’s what held me back the most – it wasn’t the fact I’m Asian, or a woman, or gay or live with a severe hearing impairment, but coming from an underprivileged background has been the greatest inhibitor. It’s why I champion social inclusion. I want to be an inspiration for people who want to further themselves and carve a proper future for their families, regardless of personal characteristics.

Some deep-seated biases persist but the world is changing. Diversity is good for business because when you have different perspectives, you succeed at collaboration, promote innovation and you create thriving workplaces with the best levels of customer engagement. Revenue growth depends on inclusion.

I’ve worked hard to dispel doubts about my ability. Prejudice I might have suffered was never harder on me than I was on myself, so I became impervious to it. If I hadn’t had that tenacity, I wouldn’t have got to this place. Someone close once told me that if there were anything I needed to prove, I’d done it and should relax and enjoy it now. Truth is, when you’ve pushed yourself this hard to simply level with the privileged, it’s difficult to just switch it off. If little Saeeda was sitting here, I’d give her a hot chocolate, put my arm around her and tell her it’s going to be alright. But I wouldn’t change a thing.