Latest News Archive

Please select Category, Year, and then Month to display items
Previous Archive
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

Mafuma aims at elusive tournament victory with Junior Springboks
2016-06-03

Description: Mafuma Tags: Mafuma

The University of the Free State’s Mosolwa Mafuma
recently scored five tries in the Junior Springboks’
three practice matches against a Golden Lions U20
invitation team, a Maties team, and the
South Western Districts. Photo: SASPA

He has never won a rugby tournament, so Mosolwa Mafuma has only one goal: to win the Junior World Cup as Junior Springbok in England.

Even though the 20-year-old Shimlas wing has achieved success, and it is pleasing to excel individually, he believes it is more satisfying when his team triumphs. According to Mafuma, who could just as well be an athletics star, he wants to help the South African U20 team take a different approach.

He and the prop Kwenzo Blose are players from the University of the Free State who will represent the Junior Springboks from 7 to 25 June 2016 in Manchester. The team will play the first of three group matches on 7 June 2016 against Japan in the Academy Stadium.

New approach for SA U20 team
Mafuma, who was Player of the Tournament in his first Varsity Cup in 2016, says the Junior Springboks are well prepared. “We have the skills, and the structures at the Junior Springboks are different than before. There is not just one game plan like playing with big guys. We want to try new things and have a different approach.”

It is with this team that he wishes to achieve something. “It is one thing to be able to say that you are the Player of a Tournament, but your team did not win. I have not won something at school (with St. Benedict’s Boys College in Johannesburg) or this year with the Shimlas.”

Speedster on athletics track
The speedster is one of only a few rugby players who also have a profile on the IAAF website. His fastest time in the 100 m is 10.37 seconds (a national U17 record) and 20.37 s in the 200 m.

In high school, this first-year Psychology student played rugby during winter and took part in athletics during summer. Only at the end of Grade 11 did he started focusing on rugby. “I was more of an athlete than a rugby player,” he says.

It is no coincidence that the nickname he acquired due to his speed, is Dash. His other nickname, Senkie (derived from the Afrikaans word ‘seuntjie’) he received as a child from his parents because he was such a small child.

We use cookies to make interactions with our websites and services easy and meaningful. To better understand how they are used, read more about the UFS cookie policy. By continuing to use this site you are giving us your consent to do this.

Accept