Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Kristina Pikovskaia, Leverhulme Early Career Research Fellow, University of Edinburgh
Education, especially higher education, is a step towards adulthood and a foundation for the future.
But what happens when education loses its value as a way to climb the social ladder? What if a degree is no guarantee of getting stable work, being able to provide for one’s family, or owning a house or car?
This devaluing of higher education as a path to social mobility is a grim reality for young Zimbabweans. Over the past two decades the southern African country has been beset by economic, financial, political and social challenges.
These crises have severely undermined the premises and promises of education, especially at a tertiary level. A recent survey by independent research organisation Afrobarometer found that 90% of young Zimbabweans had secondary and post-secondary education compared to 83% of those aged between 36 and 55. But 41% of the youth were unemployed and looking for a job as opposed to 26% of the older generation.
The situation is so dire that it’s become a recurring theme in Zimdancehall, a popular music genre produced and consumed by young Zimbabweans. “Hustling” (attempts to create income-generating opportunities), informal livelihoods and young people’s collapsed dreams are recurrent topics in songs like Winky D’s Twenty Five, Junior Tatenda’s Kusvikira Rinhi and She Calaz’s Kurarama.
I study the way people experience the informal economy in Zimbabwe and Zambia. In a recent study I explored the loss of education’s value as a social mobility tool in the Zimbabwean context.
My research revealed how recent school and university graduates think about the role of education in their lives. My respondents felt let down by the fact that education no longer provided social mobility. They were disappointed that there was no longer a direct association between education and employment.
However, the graduates I interviewed were not giving up. Some were working towards new qualifications, hoping and preparing for economic improvements. They also thought deeply about how the educational system could be improved. Many young people got involved in protests. These included actions by the Coalition of Unemployed Graduates and the #ThisGown protests, which addressed graduate unemployment issues. Some also took part in #ThisFlag and #Tajamuka protests, which had wider socio-economic and political agendas.
Understanding history
To understand the current status and state of education in Zimbabwe it’s important to look to the country’s history.
Zimbabwe was colonised by the British from the late 19th century. The colonial education system was racialised. Education for white students was academic. For Black students, it was mostly practice-oriented, to create a pool of semi-skilled workers.
In the 1930s education was instrumental in the formation of Zimbabwe’s Black middle class. A small number of Black graduates entered white collar jobs, using education as a social mobility tool. The educational system also opened up somewhat for women.
Despite some university reforms during the 1950s, the system remained deeply racialised until the 1980s. That’s when the post-colonial government democratised the education system. Primary school enrolment went up by 242%, and 915% more students entered secondary school. In the 1990s nine more state universities were opened.
However, worsening economic conditions throughout the 1990s put pressure on the system. A presidential commission in 1999 noted that secondary schools were producing graduates with non-marketable skills – they were too academic and focused on examinations. Students’ experiences, including at the university level, have worsened since then.
The decline has been driven by systemic and institutional problems in primary and secondary education, like reduced government spending, teachers’ poor working conditions, political interference and brain drain. This, coupled with the collapse of the formal economic sector and a sharp drop in formal employment opportunities, severely undermined education’s social mobility function.
‘A key, but no door to open’
My recent article was based on my wider doctoral research. For this, I studied economic informalisation in Zimbabwe’s capital city, Harare. It involved more than 120 interviews during eight months of in-country research.
This particular paper builds on seven core interviews with recent school and university graduates in the informal sector, as well as former student leaders.
Some noted that education had lost part of its value as it related to one’s progression in society. As one of my respondents, Ashlegh Pfunye (former secretary-general of the Zimbabwe National Students Union), described it, young people were told that education was a key to success – but there was no door to open.
Some of my respondents were working in the informal sector, as vendors and small-scale producers. Some could not use their degrees to secure jobs, while others gave up their dreams of obtaining a university degree. Lisa, for example, was very upset about giving up on her dream to pursue post-secondary education and tried to re-adjust to her current circumstances:
I used to dream that I will have my own office, now I dream that one day I’ll have my own shop.
Those who had university qualifications stressed that, despite being unable to apply their degrees in the current circumstances, they kept going to school and getting more certification. This prepared them for future opportunities in the event of what everyone hoped for: economic improvement.
Historical tensions
Some of my interviewees, especially recent university graduates and activists, were looking for possible solutions – like changing the curriculum and approach to education that trains workers rather than producers and entrepreneurs. As Makomborero Haruzivishe, former secretary-general of the Zimbabwe National Students’ Union, said: “Our educational system was created to train human robots who would follow the instructions.”
Entrepreneurship education is a popular approach in many countries to changing the structure of classic education. In the absence of employment opportunities for skilled graduates, it is supposed to provide them with the tools to create such opportunities for themselves and others.
In 2018, the government introduced what it calls the education 5.0 framework. It has a strong entrepreneurship component. It’s too soon to say whether it will bear fruit. And it may be held back by history.
For example, the introduction of the Education-with-Production model in the 1980s, which included practical subjects and vocational training, was met with resistance because it was seen as a return to the dual system.
Because of Zimbabwe’s historically racialised education system, many students and parents favour the UK-designed Cambridge curriculum and traditional academic educational programmes. Zimbabwe has the highest number of entrants into the Cambridge International exam in Africa.
Feeling let down
The link between education and employment in Zimbabwe has many tensions: modernity and survival, academic pursuits and practicality, promises and reality. It’s clear from my study that graduates feel let down because the modernist promises of education have failed them.
Parts of this research have been funded by the University of Oxford and the Leverhulme Trust (ECF-2022-055).
– ref. Education in Zimbabwe has lost its value: study asks young people how they feel about that – https://theconversation.com/education-in-zimbabwe-has-lost-its-value-study-asks-young-people-how-they-feel-about-that-244661
