KEY POINTS:
Akerei Malesala grew up in a world where his heroes wore gang patches, wagging was more common than going to school and the only white faces he knew belonged to people he didn't have much time for - cops and teachers.
Fifteen years on and the 29-year-old is the only one of his seven close friends who is not dead or in jail.
Not only is the Otara lad not in jail but he is now a constable patrolling his old patch, and a member of the recently formed Youth Action Team, based in Manurewa.
One of the messages Mr Malesala - or Rei as he is known to most of Counties Manukau's teens - is keen to get across to youths these days is that life is all about choices.
Of his close childhood friends, four are dead.
"Of the three of us that are alive, I'm the only one that's managed to stay out of the cells. It's a testimony to what choices are, I guess.
"I'm not saying that I'm an angel. I guess that I just had angels in the form of social workers - people from the church who looked out for me. They didn't give up on me."
Mr Malesala grew up in Otara after migrating from Samoa at the age of 4. He lived with his two brothers, three sisters and parents, who spoke no English and worked in factories.
Despite his loving family, he lived in a world where the youth gang environment was all around him.
"There was nothing wrong with my family - we come from a really tough and religious family - but a lot of my friends, their parents were Black Power and Mongrel Mob members.
"We all grew up emulating them - they were the creme de la creme. They were like the guys in the movies."
The only white faces Mr Malesala saw were those of cops and teachers - people he thought were more privileged than him because they had everything handed to them on a plate.
He wagged his way through three high schools before finally dropping out at 16, without School C.
He then spent four years working at Anchor before going overseas to play rugby, an experience that opened his eyes not only to the world, but to the fact white people weren't any more privileged than or different to himself.
Some even had it harder than he did.
"That was a bit of a knock on the head for me ... It brought me back to Earth and I realised I had a lot more than I appreciated."
With that realisation came a newfound confidence and in his mid-20s Mr Malesala decided to pick a path that would take him places, give him options and allow him to make a difference. He joined the police.
After failing a mock test, Mr Malesala headed to the Bay of Plenty to do a three-month course for potential police recruits.
It wasn't without challenges but he persisted.
"Everyone had degrees so they had at least passed School C. After the first test I only got 19 per cent. At the end of the first week I had to decide did I want to keep chasing the dream?"
Mr Malesala "stuck with the brainy ones" in the hope of learning everything he could and by the time the last test rolled around he had topped the class. Until that point Mr Malesala hadn't told his family what he was doing for fear of the "disappointment and shame" if he failed.
When he graduated from police college two years ago his entire family hired a bus to see him on his big day.
Mr Malesala is now working as a Youth Action constable, drawing on his own experiences to help get the message across to young people.
"I see them every day and every time they tell a story, it's my story. It's frustrating. I [also] had police officers telling me that I could do it and I was like 'yeah, yeah'.
"When a white person was saying it, it was hard to believe it.
"I like to think that because of that I have managed to make a connection with a lot of the kids out there who see me as one of them."
