Kakamega Primary School head teacher Dickson Wanyangu gives instructions to Grade Six students sitting the Kenya Primary School Education Assessment on October 24, 2025. KPSEA begins on October 27, 2025. [Benjamin Sakwa, Standard]
The examination season is once again upon us. As learners sit the Kenya Primary School Education Assessment (KPSEA) and the Kenya Junior Secondary Education Assessment (KJSEA) from today, there is a twist: These are being conducted under the newly introduced Competency-Based Education (CBE) framework.
The promise of CBE was bold and ambitious — to shift Kenya’s education system from rote learning and high-stakes examinations toward the acquisition of practical skills, creativity, and problem-solving competencies. Yet, several years into its implementation, one cannot help but wonder: Beyond the rhetoric, what truly sets it apart from the outgoing 8-4-4 system?
Kenya’s CBE framework is a beautifully designed document. But there lies the danger: An elegant design without matching implementation is a recipe for failure. As the Greek philosophers taught, every system should aim at its telos — its ultimate purpose. The question is whether Kenya’s CBE is genuinely moving toward that purpose or merely performing a theatrical awareness campaign about skills and competencies.
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The danger signs are already visible. While the curriculum design is rich, the mechanisms for its implementation remain shaky. Teachers — who are the pivotal agents of transformation — are often ill-prepared and uncertain about how to translate competencies into daily teaching and assessment. Many lack the necessary materials and support, and the promised continuous professional development has been sporadic.
As a result, what we witness in many classrooms is not a pedagogical revolution but a dramatisation of reform — a mimicry of change rather than its reality.
Despite all the hype, the difference between the 8-4-4 system and the new CBE framework remains largely cosmetic. Yes, we have new textbooks — many of them emblazoned with the label “competency-based” — but their content often mirrors the old ones, with only minor tweaks. Publishers have flooded the market with books and mock tests branded as CBE-compliant, exploiting teachers’ confusion and parents’ anxiety.
In practice, most teachers fall back on what they know best: Drilling learners for tests. The irony is painful — while CBE claims to de-emphasise examinations, the current KPSEA and KJSEA results will still allocate a whopping 60 per cent of learners’ final scores to summative exams. The remaining 40 per cent, supposedly derived from continuous assessment, is riddled with subjectivity and inconsistency.
In a country where exam malpractice is a lingering vice, the integrity of these formative assessments is questionable. Teachers, under pressure to maintain the appearance of good performance — still a key criterion for career advancement — are unlikely to record weak scores honestly. The result is a hybrid system that carries the worst features of both the old and new worlds: The stress of exams without the clarity of standards.
The tragedy of Kenya’s education reforms is not in ambition but in execution. We speak passionately about “competencies” and “skills” without clearly defining how they should be taught, demonstrated, and assessed. What does it mean, for instance, to teach problem-solving or critical thinking to a 10-year-old?
Until we develop a shared understanding of what learning under CBE looks like — and invest in training teachers, resourcing schools, and aligning assessments — we risk entrenching a cycle of confusion.
Critics have consistently argued that successful curriculum reform demands more than policy enthusiasm. It requires material investment, consistent teacher support, and cultural readiness. Kenya has struggled on all three fronts. The infrastructure gap is glaring — many schools still lack adequate classrooms, laboratories, or digital resources. Teachers are under-equipped to deliver the new pedagogy. Parents are unsure how to support their children through a system they hardly understand.
Perhaps it is time to step back and ask the hard questions. What exactly does it take to make a “good” system work? Beyond the glossy policy documents and international endorsements, what mindset shifts are needed — from policymakers to teachers, parents, and learners?
Dr Osabwa is lecturer of Educational Foundations, Alupe University
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By Wycliffe Osabwa