#FeesMustFall: Re-imagining the University

The closing months of 2015 were marked by unprecedented student protests calling for both free tertiary education and the end to outsourcing of domestic and security workers within the university sector. It has become clear in 2016, as the #FeesMustFall movement continues and protests become angrier, South African universities are being re-imagined and altered. Undoubtedly, a change is necessary but the voice of post-graduate students in all of this seems to be mute.


Photo credit: barbourians via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

The truth is that university fees are out of reach for most South Africans. But, this piece is not intended to argue the merits or demerits of the current swell of student protests. It is becoming clear that no matter how these protests end, universities in South Africa are being forced to change. Professor Vuyisile Msila wrote an interesting opinion piece on the current wave of student protests and the need for the discussions around the social implications of symbols and knowledge systems. The main point that I got from his piece is that we still need to grapple with what higher education means at a societal level.

The media focus has weighed heavily on undergraduate fees, but that is just a tiny part of the equation. We are research leaders on our continent, but South Africans are powerfully affected by the state of international growth and global trends in research and education. With the global economy coming to a screeching halt and rapid digitization of knowledge, we haven’t really addressed how universities in South Africa can adapt and where post-graduates studies fit in addressing the challenges ahead.

We need to be asking — at least I know that I am – what is the purpose of being in a university or studying further, if it is not to help Africa meet its current challenges? Universities need to house innovation hubs, cross-disciplinary projects and overall be ahead of the developmental curve. Yet we are at a point where all of this could fall away if the change is not managed intentionally.

At the height of the protest, our department was warned that we have to be more financially prudent because of anticipated reductions in funding for non-critical projects. To be honest, I didn’t really feel the difference because my programme head has always been extremely cautious with funding. But, I wonder what the impact of the quality of tertiary education, at all levels, would be if appropriate funding couldn’t be found. Globally, there has been increasing pressure on the knowledge economy owing to increasingly scare funding. This has profound implications for African universities who are tasked with finding solutions to Africa’s various social and developmental challenges.

The university funding crisis also has implications with regards to talent rentention.          In European ,and American universities,the lack of appropriate funding has seen tenured positions become scarce. Similarly, South Africa faces an increasing risk that young graduates– particularly those who are black and/or female — would be co-opted in the university system without the prospect of getting a full time job. It is understood that you are likely to start your working career at a university in a contract or ad hoc position-which has a smaller pay package than that of full-time staff. What is clear, however, in the aftermath of the fees must fall, is that full-time opportunities are going to dry up and that teaching would likely be undertaken by staff from historically marginalised groups. This does not sound horrible at face value, but these “adjunct” lecturers will receive considerably less pay with little to no prospects of change. Such a system is running rampant in the USA, with devastating consequences for researchers. In South Africa too, brilliant academics of all persuasions would leave the universities for the private sector because of their inability to meet their basic needs.

Surely, we don’t want to simply repeat the mistakes being made by our international competitors. I leave this piece with two questions: What should the ‘new’ South African university look like? And, where do post-graduates fit in in creating the new academy?

My Work is My Art: the PhD thesis as a reflection

Much like a painter or a sculptor moulds their soul onto a project, so does a doctoral candidate lay their very essence into a document that would forever be laid bare for others to admire or admonish. As Africans, across the colour spectrum, we often get bombarded with statistics about how South Africa, and Africa in general, does not produce enough doctoral candidates. What all these statistics and policy laments seem to forget is the human element in producing a doctoral thesis. Living in a social context that has  dual expectations of its emerging academics: put your nose in your books and figure out solutions to the countries problems; on the other hand, always keep your mind on the fact that you’re expected to plough back into your community sooner rather than later.

My journey as a black African female PhD candidate has been a very interesting one. The very nature of being black and female already socially locates you in your interactions with colleagues, and your community of practice. There is an unspoken pressure to conform to “rules” that nobody ever voices out loud: be confident but not seen as aggressive; be well read and articulate but not appear arrogant; and, take initiative but do come off as bossy… amongst other ridiculous unspoken rules.

Certainly, all women, regardless of race, have undue pressure placed upon them but the weight of the pressure is made more acute by their intersecting identities. Some identities have a heavier burden than others.

My other identities are as wife and a mother of two children, each identity with its own pressures and complications. What does this have to do with completing a thesis? A lot. Writing any piece of academic work entails you wearing two hats simultaneously: a researcher hat and that of a writer. The work you ultimately produce is a reflection of your skill, labour, spirit and how much you have been able to translate your knowledge into a piece that is capable of impacting your reader in some way. Putting it differently, there is a constant tension between the creative and the academic.

Photo credit: modul via Foter.com / CC BY-NC
Photo credit: modul via Foter.com / CC BY-NC

All these unspoken pressures have a way of either spurring you on to produce something worthy or pushing you completely off course. In the Atlantic’s Creative Breakthrough Series, Ta-Nehisi Coates, an author and journalist, provides profound advice on writing. I would like to share two gems, put in my own words: innovations come from pressure; and, to become better writers we need to write more.   This truth is the same for academic composition- at least in my opinion. Every thesis chapter that I write, revise, and rewrite, has made me a better writer. The academy, at least in South Africa, is pretty good at teaching research and data mining skills but not how to write. Yet, the art of writing is one of the most powerful tools of communication and provides a snapshot of who we are.

What does your snapshot reflect?