Is the new curriculum offering Uganda a new Hope?

Historically, education began as a personal quest for "truth" pursued by individuals often considered unconventional or even "crazy" by society. These individuals were called philosophers, and names like Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato stand out prominently. These thinkers were seen as possessing something rare and exceptional—knowledge not easily accessible to the average person. Consequently, they became societal celebrities, attracting the attention of the ruling powers of the time—kings, emperors, and spiritual leaders. History demonstrates that those in power have always been keen to recognize and address emerging centers of influence, either by collaborating with them or suppressing them. Both scenarios played out, but collaboration was often the path chosen. Philosophers became extensions of the ruling class's influence, using their knowledge to cultivate obedient subjects, often under the banners of nationalism or patriotism. This marked the origins of formal education from a Eurocentric perspective. However, if formal education is defined as learning acquired outside the home, Africa had its own systems of formal education. Cultural practices and teachings, delivered by experts during organized community gatherings, served as a structured form of education beyond the confines of the household.

Now, if you've understood the above, you may agree that formal education has often been shaped by the interests of those in power. In today’s terms, this could be described as education driven by "national interests," a far cry from its origins, where curiosity and questions like, "Why does an apple fall down instead of up?" served as its foundation. As societal power shifts and priorities evolve, so too does the nature of formal education—it is far from a constant. Before the 18th century, power was concentrated in monarchs, emperors, and spiritual leaders, who used education to maintain their dominance and discourage rebellion, while keeping their territories resource-rich through the hard labor of their subjects. However, the industrial revolution in Europe introduced new power centers—the industrialists, the makers of machines. In the age of kings, a man’s worth was measured by his physical strength, but the industrialists, having created machines that outperformed manual labor, shifted the focus to intelligence and brainpower. This shift is one of the main reasons formal education became such a significant industry. Industrialists shaped the modern world, where intellectual labor became more valued than physical toil, which explains why white-collar jobs still pay more than manual labor. Today, parents are more likely to invest in their children studying a three-year course like “Guidance and Counselling” over a trade like carpentry, not necessarily because they dislike the latter, but because society has conditioned them to value the former over generations.

Unfortunately, like many other countries, Uganda faces a surplus of graduates compared to available jobs. High unemployment rates have forced educators and policymakers to rethink curricula, teaching methods, and the relevance of what is being taught. The blame is often placed in a simplistic narrative of “lacking skills.” The newly launched lower-secondary competence-based curriculum, which is expected to extend to higher education, aims to ensure that graduates emerge with practical skills to create jobs not only for themselves but for others, contributing to national development. While this sounds logical at first glance, it raises deeper issues when closely examined. Here is my argument: "Merely tweaking the curriculum will not solve the problem." The claim that all unemployed graduates lack skills is simply not true. For example, Uganda has unemployed nurses, midwives, and doctors—professionals with essential skills that the country desperately needs to strengthen its healthcare system. The issue is not their lack of skills but the country's inability to employ them, as both the public and private sectors lack the capacity to absorb them. Many of these graduates come from humble, peasant families and lack the capital to start their own businesses. In simpler terms, skills alone are not enough to secure employment. Other critical factors must be addressed, including job creation, economic growth, and the purchasing power of the population. A stagnant economy with widespread poverty creates a vicious cycle of unemployment, regardless of how skilled the workforce becomes. After all, producing skilled individuals without sufficient demand for their expertise only exacerbates the problem.

In conclusion, Uganda’s focus should be on building a vibrant economy rather than overly fixating on curriculum reform. If the economy is thriving, the content of the curriculum becomes less of a concern. Ask those currently employed and they will often tell you that the most valuable skills they use in their jobs were learned on the job, not in school. Learning does not stop when someone leaves the gates of higher education. In our rapidly evolving world, it is nearly impossible to predict all future challenges through curriculum redesign alone. Learners will naturally adapt to the demands of the world if given the opportunity. Therefore, the government and other stakeholders must prioritize creating opportunities—ensuring that "the chance" remains accessible for all. Education reform is important, but it must go hand in hand with broader efforts to foster economic growth and job creation.