One major difference between the Greek and Roman empires was the fact that, while the latter was reputed for prizing chivalry, valour and the expansionist flaunting of military might, the former sought to be a global scholarship hub. Ancient Greek mythology still inspires contemporary moral didactics. And it’s not uncommon for teachers, college professors, artists and even leaders today to quote excerpts from the texts, speeches and debates of Greece’s imperial era.
However, the Greeks’ domination of global scholarship wouldn’t have been possible—and strung out—had it not been for the availability of institutions of learning, both locally and nearby, that were kitted out with adequate resources and enjoyed society’s full support. It’s this all-important, genuine support for institutions of learning—colleges especially—that this article is about.
It’s common knowledge that a number of public colleges in Kenya, including University of Nairobi, Moi University, Egerton University, Kenyatta University and Technical University of Kenya have lately been struggling to remain operational for a myriad reasons, including debt management, financial mismanagement, funding and administrative disharmony. University of Nairobi, for instance, is reported to be operationally encumbered by a Sh12 billion debt.
Moi University just announced the planned retrenchment of about 900 members of its staff. That, coupled with reports of perennial political meddling from high-ranking State officers, is bad news for a country whose degree-holding demographic accounts for less than 30 per cent of the total population. It all but heralds the end of the college-led minting of thinkers, scholars, innovators, artists and leaders as we know it. And this is not the kind of reality that we would want in Kenya, East and Central Africa’s largest economy—rivalled only provisionally by Ethiopia, Tanzania and Rwanda.
As part of foresight and counteraction, therefore, lessons on funding, administration and situational gumption (needed in moments of crises such as during a salary-spawned work boycott by staff), especially from such colleges that have defied the curse of time as the 930-year-old Oxford University in the United Kingdom, ought to be sought and internalised. How do Harvard University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, two of the United States’ most prestigious colleges, whose administrations only recently braved attacks from Jewish American billionaire Bill Ackman for students-led, on-campus protests staged in solidarity with Palestine during the post-October 7 Israel-Hamas War, deal with—and continue to operate despite—political interference?
How differently do societies in the UK and US, where Cambridge Union, Oxford Union and the Yale Political Union, college-based debating clubs first established in 1815, 1823 and 1934, respectively, continue to partly evolve, shape and seed thought and relate with their centres of learning? Some of the vaccines used in preventive inoculation during the coronavirus pandemic were manufactured either by or with the help of colleges in the West, particularly in the UK and US. Why are our colleges, unlike those in the developed world, not fully operationalised research bases?
In the 1970s and ’80s, at University of Chicago, the late US economist Milton Friedman, in debates mostly moderated by fellow scholar Robert McKenzie, led others, including the eminent African-American thinker Thomas Sowell, in disputing the economic models of the day. Some have even observed and argued that he (Friedman), with his ideas, saw to the complete re-conception by society in the West of its idea of economics from Adam Smith’s theory of the 1770s. Do we in Kenya—and Africa—honour our scholars with the same level of seriousness?
Holders of degrees from colleges abroad, especially in the UK and US, are looked upon with admiration and envy. Noticed that European football clubs enjoy more support from Kenyans and Africans than local ones? Does that explain why we seemingly think local colleges likewise don’t deserve the same scale of investment on our part?
Can we still blame our former colonial masters for the infinitely crippling sense of self-denigration they bequeathed us after decades of liberation-oriented labours, including for self-knowledge? Have we yet to realise how more expensive it is to import a product than make the same locally? Do we recall the levels of education among our people a few decades ago when the go-to institutions of higher learning in the region were mainly Makerere University and University of Dar es Salaam in Uganda and Tanzania, respectively?
The collapse of any of our premier colleges—if it were to happen—would be doubly regrettable as it would both be inimical to the intellectual pursuits of the individual and mean the mortgaging of our collective future as Kenyans. Only well-run, well-funded and well-resourced colleges committed to fiscal accountability and prudence can guarantee us continual learning that is helpful to our country’s development goals.
How we fare in the twin races towards the attainment of goals set against timelines in the Kenya Vision 2030 and Africa Vision 2063 will, to a great deal, be determined by how well, quickly and easily we can equip our youth, especially, with college-acquired skills important to areas of societal development that require special focus.
There’s need, therefore, for us to de-ethnicise and de-politicise appointment to university vice-chancellorship with a view to ridding them of bias and augmenting professionalism. We must aim for and hasten the reality of self-funded research for our colleges’ both institutional sense-making and growth. And we must begin to have an interest in the affairs of our colleges—especially how they are run, fiscally managed, resource-equipped and perform—a collective, inescapable duty as patriots.
By Mulang’o Baraza