There was a time when the company’s only PCs belonged to the secretary.
I had to ask for permission just to use one.
My boss, no manual, no softness, simply said:
“You will learn this computer stuff. I assume you are not stupid.”
That was how my relationship with this new technology began.
No handholding. No hype.
Just a blinking green screen and a Lotus 1-2-3 certification course, which I bought with an entire month’s salary, a fossil now, but once my passport into the future.
During that course, I met fellow students from a competing big pharma company, a magical place where many free PCs were available like grazing cattle in a digital pasture, all sponsored by their company. One VP of Accounting even invited a small group of us to his company on weekends to practise on their vacant PCs. Huge, bulky screens that could double as gym weights.
Just a few weeks after I got my certification, a vacancy opened at that same company where I had been diligently practising my PC skills. The VP suggested a candidate. Me. And just like that, I landed the job. Double the salary, a company car, and the prestige of working at BAYER.
A moment frozen in time.
A change in technology that also shifted the trajectory of my career.
The future never arrives with fanfare. It arrives in freezes.
Quiet shifts. Sudden disorientation.
And then, if you are paying attention, reinvention.
This is a moment of change frozen in time.
One that would impact everything moving forward.
For more stories, reflections, practical leadership tips, and to stay updated you can follow me on Instagram, X (Twitter), and Facebook.