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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

Judge Albie Sachs and Candice Mama discuss traumas of the past and forgiveness in the present
2015-08-05

 

Judge Albie Sachs embraces Candice Mama for her courage in confronting Eugene de Kock, who killed her father.

Two generations. Two stories of triumph. Two South Africans who have displayed immense courage.

Public Dialogue on Trauma, Memory, and Representations of the Past

Judge Albie Sachs and Candice Mama exchanged their experiences of past trauma and subsequent transformation in a public conversation. The event was co-hosted by Prof Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela and The Institute for Justice and Reconciliation (IJR) in Cape Town on Thursday 30 July 2015.

The event was the first instalment in a series entitled Public Dialogue on Trauma, Memory, and Representations of the Past. The theme of the discussion was ‘Intergenerational Dialogue on Trauma and Healing’.

"The aim of these public dialogue events we are co-hosting with IJR is to place the issues of trauma and memory, and the strategies that individuals and communities use to heal, in the public sphere," Prof Gobodo-Madikizela, Senior Research Professor in Trauma, Forgiveness, and Reconciliation Studies at the University of the Free State (UFS) said.

Judge Albie Sachs and Candice Mama in conversation

Former Constitutional Court Judge, Albie Sachs, talked about his participation in South Africa’s liberation struggle, the loss of his right arm in an assassination attempt, and meeting the man responsible – Henri van der Westhuizen. Despite years of exile and extended periods of solitary confinement, Judge Sachs maintains that “we need to acknowledge our history, not be trapped by it.” Judge Sachs also remarked, though, that “we’re seeing too much lamentation, not enough activation.” In a heartrending gesture, Judge Sachs embraced Candice Mama in a hug for her courage in confronting Eugene de Kock, who killed her father.

How poignant then, when Mama said, “I wanted to embrace the brokenness within him,” when she spoke about her meeting with De Kock. By the time I met with Eugene, I could meet him as a human being, not as a villain.” Mama believes that forgiving someone translates into an investment in the person you are forgiving and in your own sanity. She also emphasised the importance of dialogue to move our country forward: “When we share our stories with each other authentically, walls break down.”

This is a stance that Prof Gobodo-Madikizela supports strongly: “When we listen to one another, something unexpected emerges; we encounter the human in each other,” she said. “When we listen with open hearts to each other, we see and experience each other’s humanity.”

Building a bridge between research and society

Referring to the research aspect of the event, Prof Gobodo-Madikizela said that, "in establishing the series of public dialogue events, our vision is to create a bridge between scholarly research and the community at large, on the one hand, and a visual conscience of society, on the other." The UFS is collaborating with the IJR on this research project, which is funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. The endeavour is led by Prof Gobodo-Madikizela, who also serves as Board Member of the IJR.

 

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