Let Makerere cut the numbers or sink
Jul 27, 2005
WHILE speaking at the inauguration ceremony of Makerere University in September 1970, the then president Apollo Milton Obote remarked: “Makerere University must never be called an ivory tower because it will once spoil itself knowingly or unknowingly. This is the danger of the new university we ha
Michael Nsasiirweki
WHILE speaking at the inauguration ceremony of Makerere University in September 1970, the then president Apollo Milton Obote remarked: “Makerere University must never be called an ivory tower because it will once spoil itself knowingly or unknowingly. This is the danger of the new university we have inaugurated today.â€
Thirty-five years later, Makerere University is in the news, this time not for receiving an award for its outstanding research in AIDS nor for discovering new economic theories, but for rampant examination malpractices.
Incidentally, Obote has lived to see his prophecy come true three-and-half decades after he predicted doom. Since time immemorial, Makerere has been rated among the best universities in the world, occasionally referred to as the Oxford of Africa by its alumni.
However, with the news of examination malpractices emerging in the media spotlight, one wonders if the ivory tower can still measure up to the standard.
Makerere’s troubles started unfolding in the early 1990s following the introduction of the self-sponsorship scheme, apparently to satisfy the growing needs of university education in Uganda and create a strong economic base for self-sustainance. And, indeed, such an institution needs sufficient funds to run its day-to-day businesses.
However, the issue of academic standards should not be under-rated since the ultimate goal of the institution is academic excellence, not business. The challenge is to reconcile the two areas if the institution is to survive.
Initially set to cater for 6,000 students as University of East Africa, Makerere, under its autonomy, has stretched its admission streak fivefold, bringing the total number of students to over 30,000.
This has created a serious shortage of space and learning aids, paving way for academic mess.
Today, every learning aid that was initially meant to be used by one student is shared by six on average. This means in a practical class such as computer science, which calls for 1:1 computer student ratio, only the genius can grasp a concept, leaving slow learners at the mercy of God.
Surely under such conditions some students are left with no option but to resort to cheating.
One may argue that the university has set up a sizeable infrastructure by constructing more lecture rooms, more computer laboratories and modernising the library. Still these facilities are not enough for thousands of students who flock the university every year for higher education.
In the wake of the examination malpractices, some sections of the media have quoted the university spokesperson saying “the university is still the best because it admits the best studentsâ€. But surely, is this excuse viable?
It is important for Makerere to know that universities in developed countries admit students who have been rejected by universities in Third World countries and transform them from academic mediocrity to meritocracy.
Former Kampala mayor, Hajji Nasser Ssebagala is a case in point. Initially rejected by Ugandan society on his maiden attempt to run for presidency in 2001 under the pretext of insufficient education, he returned from the UK three years later with a degree in political science and economics.
Using his universal knowledge, today Ssebagala is giving Ugandan politicians a good run for their money.
Therefore, the Ssebagala case is a positive testimony that every student can learn provided they have skilled teachers, moderate students-teacher ratio class and, above all, sufficient modern teaching aids. This method is imperative for Makerere if it is to regain its former glory.
Whether Makerere has spoilt its self knowingly or unknowingly is debatable. But the way forward is twofold — either to reduce the number of students by a half and shine again or retain the number and become a laughing-stock.
The writer is an educator and civil rights campaigner
WHILE speaking at the inauguration ceremony of Makerere University in September 1970, the then president Apollo Milton Obote remarked: “Makerere University must never be called an ivory tower because it will once spoil itself knowingly or unknowingly. This is the danger of the new university we have inaugurated today.â€
Thirty-five years later, Makerere University is in the news, this time not for receiving an award for its outstanding research in AIDS nor for discovering new economic theories, but for rampant examination malpractices.
Incidentally, Obote has lived to see his prophecy come true three-and-half decades after he predicted doom. Since time immemorial, Makerere has been rated among the best universities in the world, occasionally referred to as the Oxford of Africa by its alumni.
However, with the news of examination malpractices emerging in the media spotlight, one wonders if the ivory tower can still measure up to the standard.
Makerere’s troubles started unfolding in the early 1990s following the introduction of the self-sponsorship scheme, apparently to satisfy the growing needs of university education in Uganda and create a strong economic base for self-sustainance. And, indeed, such an institution needs sufficient funds to run its day-to-day businesses.
However, the issue of academic standards should not be under-rated since the ultimate goal of the institution is academic excellence, not business. The challenge is to reconcile the two areas if the institution is to survive.
Initially set to cater for 6,000 students as University of East Africa, Makerere, under its autonomy, has stretched its admission streak fivefold, bringing the total number of students to over 30,000.
This has created a serious shortage of space and learning aids, paving way for academic mess.
Today, every learning aid that was initially meant to be used by one student is shared by six on average. This means in a practical class such as computer science, which calls for 1:1 computer student ratio, only the genius can grasp a concept, leaving slow learners at the mercy of God.
Surely under such conditions some students are left with no option but to resort to cheating.
One may argue that the university has set up a sizeable infrastructure by constructing more lecture rooms, more computer laboratories and modernising the library. Still these facilities are not enough for thousands of students who flock the university every year for higher education.
In the wake of the examination malpractices, some sections of the media have quoted the university spokesperson saying “the university is still the best because it admits the best studentsâ€. But surely, is this excuse viable?
It is important for Makerere to know that universities in developed countries admit students who have been rejected by universities in Third World countries and transform them from academic mediocrity to meritocracy.
Former Kampala mayor, Hajji Nasser Ssebagala is a case in point. Initially rejected by Ugandan society on his maiden attempt to run for presidency in 2001 under the pretext of insufficient education, he returned from the UK three years later with a degree in political science and economics.
Using his universal knowledge, today Ssebagala is giving Ugandan politicians a good run for their money.
Therefore, the Ssebagala case is a positive testimony that every student can learn provided they have skilled teachers, moderate students-teacher ratio class and, above all, sufficient modern teaching aids. This method is imperative for Makerere if it is to regain its former glory.
Whether Makerere has spoilt its self knowingly or unknowingly is debatable. But the way forward is twofold — either to reduce the number of students by a half and shine again or retain the number and become a laughing-stock.
The writer is an educator and civil rights campaigner