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25 May 2020 | Story Dr Munyaradzi Mushonga | Photo Supplied
Dr Munyaradzi Mushonga

As we virtually celebrate Africa Month in 2020, it is worth reflecting on the journey of the African university as a reminder of where we are coming from, where we are today, and where we are going. The emergence and development of university education in Africa can be conceptualised in four distinct phases, namely the pre-colonial university (before 1900), the colonial university (1900-c.1960), the developmental (post-colonial) university (1961-c.1980), and the market (entrepreneurial)/crisis-era university (1980-present). If we follow this scheme, with the Coronavirus and COVID-19 in our midst, the African university is entering the fifth phase. Just a week into the pandemic, African universities were already experimenting with various online learning and teaching approaches to keep the academic programme afloat, away from the walled university. 

Higher education on the African continent long antedates the establishment of Western-style universities in the 19th century and is traceable to the 3rd century BC. The oldest university still in existence is Al-Azhar in Egypt, founded in 969 AD. It is regarded as one of the leading Islamic HE institutions in the world today. Not only did the idea of higher learning begin in Africa, but the spread of universities into “Western Europe was mainly through the traffic of knowledge and ideas that flowed across the Strait of Gibraltar from North Africa” (Tisani, 2005:2). 

Colonial universities were a product of the European colonisation of Africa and most of these emerged after the Second World War. Their mandate was to reorient European colonies through the idea of ‘colonial development’ as well as to “cultivate and sustain indigenous elites” moulded along European traditions; elites that would be crucial in maintaining links with the former colonial powers after the departure of the physical empire from Africa (Munene, 2010:400). Thus, colonial universities were among the major instruments and vehicles of cultural westernisation and assimilation, bent on removing the hard disk of previous African knowledge and memory, and downloading into it a software of European memory. Today, the continent remains dominated by universities shaped by the logics of colonialism. It is this resilient colonial university that decoloniality seeks to disrupt and to plant in its place an African university steeped in epistemologies of the Global South. 

Following the retreat of the physical empire, African states established development-orientated universities. It was readily accepted that HE was capable of contributing to the social, cultural, and economic development of Africa. As such, many universities were initially generously funded and supported by the state. However, this commitment only lasted for about a decade or so. The ‘independence’ university was overly concerned with first – ‘Africanising’ the public service, and second – with the anti-colonialist aspiration of taking over and ‘Africanising’ positions within the institution. The more nationalism turned into a state project, the more pressure there was on the developmentalist university to implement a state-determined and state-driven agenda, and the more this happened, “the more critical thought was taken as subversive of the national project” (Mamdani, 2008). Resultantly, the university lost its original mandate and the international policy environment did not help matters, as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund suggested that ‘Africa did not need university education’ and called for the privatisation of public universities. 

The fate of the ‘developmental university’ was sealed in 1990 when the World Conference on Education for All prioritised elementary education. The increasing frustration with the perceived failure of the ‘developmental university’ on the one hand, and changed Western priorities and the inevitable influence of Western aid and Western academic organisations on the other hand, gave rise to the market (entrepreneurial)/crisis-era university. Since the structural adjustment programmes of the 1980s, many African universities have been under pressure to liberalise, following the retreat of the state in the provision of education. This led to various forms of disputes and contestations (#FeesMustFall is one of them) – contestations centred on the meaning, purpose, and mission of an African university (Zeleza and Olukoshi, 2004:1) in a fast decolonising yet liberalising environment. 

Today, with the Coronavirus and COVID-19 in our midst, one thing is certain – the pandemic will have a lasting impact on all national institutions, the African university included. It is not possible to predict the kind of university that might emerge both during and beyond the pandemic. However, the following questions might help us imagine such a university. What kind of university do we have (now/today)? What kind of university do we want? What kind of university do we need? What kind of university can we afford? These are transhistorical questions that have informed all previous versions of the university. Clearly, the COVID-19 pandemic is sure to give birth to another crisis-era university. While such a university will be dictated by the prevailing socio-economic and socio-political ideologies and landscapes shaped by the pandemic, we should also refuse to allow the pandemic to define such a university for us. The COVID-19 pandemic should only be used as a stage for a ‘great leap’ forward. The pandemic offers the African university a fresh start. Yet, we must, as some Kovsies have already cautioned, guard against the temptation to respond to crises in particularist and isolationist fashions. It is time to overcome. It is time to unite. It is time to grab the bull by the horns. It is time for Africa’s place in the sun. #ONEAFRICA.  

This article was written by Dr Munyaradzi Mushonga, Programme Director: Africa Studies, Centre for Gender and Africa Studies 


News Archive

Prof. Letticia Moja a winner in her category
2004-08-17

 

Prof. Moja a finalist in award 
'Every member of staff is important to me'

Michelle Cahill - Bloemnuus

IF you are in need of a dose of inspiration, try and get an appointment with Prof. Letticia Moja, the Dean of the Faculty of Health Science at the University of the Free State. It will not be easy as she has an extremely tight schedule, over and above being a finalist in the 2004 Shoprite/Checkers Woman of the Year competition.

 

Although not a born and bred Free Stater, this dynamic woman has come to love the Free State. "Once you get past the mindset of a small town and all the negatives surrounding it, it is an absolutely wonderful experience," Moja said.

Moja was born in Pretoria and grew up in Garankuwa as the second eldest of five children. "That was nothing special. I was not the eldest and I wasn't the youngest," she quipped. She had two younger brothers, one of whom died in a car accident and then two sisters.

She went to school in Pretoria and her first contact with the Free State was when she wrote her matric at Moroka High School in Thaba Nchu. "That was one of the best schools for us at that time," she says. After completing matric, she went on to study medicine in KwaZulu-Natal.

In 1982 she returned "home" and completed her internship at the Garankuwa Hospital. Hereafter she specialised in gynaecological obstetrics at Medunsa.

She became the head of the gynaecological obstetrics unit and later opened a branch in Pietersburg.

"This was just about the most heart-rending time of my life. You saw people travelling for up to three days just to see a doctor," she says. "Here we really interacted with the community."

In 2001 she was invited by the University of the Free State to apply for the job of vice-dean of the Faculty of Health Science. "I wasn't too keen," she says, "but they kept on calling to find out if I had applied or not," she says with a smile. "Eventually I gave in and was appointed."

She thought she would work a couple of years under Prof. Kerneels Nel, then the dean of the faculty. "Unfortunately that was not to be. I had hoped that I could learn from him," Moja says.

Prof. Nel died of a heart attack in 2003 after which Moja deputised for him before being appointed as dean.

"This brought along a whole newset of challenges," she says, "Now I have to work out budgets and I need to know what human resources are," she jokes. This has prompted her to take up her studies again and she is currently doing her MBA.

"It has certainly been a challenge to go into management and without my support structure I most certainly wouldn't have been able to do it," Moja says.

Moja is actively involved in her church and serves on various committees including the Health Professional Council where she is acting president of the Medical and Dental Board and the Provincial Aids Council.

To her no job is menial. She recalls when she used to have "high tea" with her staff in Gauteng and Limpopo. "One of the cleaning ladies used to think her job was menial. That is just not so. No hospital can do without even the lowest position. Imagine stepping over rubbish while you're trying to catch a baby. To me everybody is important no matter what you do. "

Moja's eldest daughter is studying for her B.Accounting degree at Wits . Her youngest daughter is in Gr. 9 at Eunice and she has also brought along her niece, who is in Gr. 8 at Eunice. "You see, we need to be three girls in the house."
She feels honoured to have been nominated by the institution especially as it is traditionally male-dominated. "It is not about me, but about the support structure. Nobody can do it on their own. It is a team effort."
BLOEMNUUS - VRYDAG 9 JULIE 2004

 

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