February 2013 has come and gone, bringing
with it yet another set of abysmal O level examination results and another round
of national gnashing of teeth, finger-pointing and acrimonious name-calling.
Some attempted to score cheap political points at the expense of rational
debate, while the Minister was at pains to point out the difficulties faced by
children trying to learn over the past chaotic few years. Indeed, the schools
have suffered drastically through the decade of economic collapse and political
violence, starved of funding, abandoned by teachers, who left children to fend
for themselves without much opportunity for learning. The Minister was not
wrong in pinpointing the problems of recent years. However, if we step back to
take a longer view of the evolution of our education system, we will find that
the present dysfunction originates much further back, and is in fact the
logical outcome of policies introduced in the immediate post-independence years
– those very policies which have been hailed as bringing Zimbabwe the “best
education system in Africa”. It is time for us to revisit the developments of
those years.
Much glowing rhetoric has been mouthed and printed lauding the
miraculous achievements of Zimbabwean education in the post-independence
period. But how much has been myth and how much hard fact? Public and private
figures talk about restoring our education to “excellence”. Certainly there
were excellent aspects and segments, but is it correct to characterise the
system as excellent? In comparison to many other African nations, Zimbabwe
could certainly boast of both quantity and quality, but is the low standard
achieved by others the measuring stick we should be using, or should we be
looking at what was done in comparison to what might have been done? Or at
least should we not be telling the truth about what was done and the legacy it
left?
Post-Independence expansion policy – democratisation means
quantity
A major component of both liberation movements’ promises to the
Zimbabwean people when independence was achieved in 1980 was to bring expansion
and equality in the education system. Education was considered to be a
necessary ingredient of economic development, but it would also fulfil the
demands and aspirations of the general populace to have their children educated
so that they could emerge from poverty into a more comfortable life with modern
amenities. Thus everyone expected that the new government would address the
racial disparities in educational provision and meet the people’s demands. Few,
however, were really expecting the massive expansion which took place in the
early 80’s, with the aim of fulfilling the election promise to provide both
primary and secondary education to all children.
During the final war years, many schools had been
closed, so enrolment numbers had declined from their peak in
1977[i]. But when the schools opened in January
1980 after the signing of the ceasefire, the numbers skyrocketed. The
expansion which took place in the ensuing years has been the hallmark of
Zimbabwean education, and it was a truly remarkable achievement. The figures
tell the story.
During 1980, 1,310,315 children registered for
school[ii]. Of these, the vast majority were in
primary school – 1,235,994 – with only 74,321 being registered for secondary
schools. The total was an increase of 424,514 or 47.9% over the previous year,
and of 38.5% over the higher enrolments of 1977 before the war took such a
toll. The huge 1980 increase took place primarily because the war had ended and
schools which had been closed reopened. Parents rushed to enrol their children
in school, now that they could move freely without fear, and the Grade 1 intake
more than doubled from 1979 or any earlier year. Returning refugee children also
swelled the school population.
But after independence in April of 1980, a much bigger
expansion was introduced, to begin taking effect in 1981. The abolition of any
primary school tuition fee from Term 3 in 1980 encouraged many to enrol their
children the following January. In that next year, the Grade 1 intake increased
again by 25%[iii] and the numbers in
every grade from 2 to 7 were substantially higher than in 1980, indicating that
most children had by this time returned to school, and many who had been unable
to enter school during the war registered even though they were now overage.
The total primary enrollment for 1981 was nearly half a million more than in
1980. By 1982 the number was over 1.9 million and by 1983, as the huge grade 1
intakes from 80-82 began to make their way through the system, the figure
reached over 2 million, never to drop below this again. The essence of this
growth was to move from a 70% participation rate of children in primary schools
in 1976 to 97% in 1984[iv].
However remarkable that may have been, the far greater
expansion took place in secondary schooling. Prior to independence, one of the
major grievances of African Rhodesians had been that secondary schooling was
harshly restricted by a selection process at grade 7. Thus, in 1976 when 70% of
children were able to attend primary school, only 23% of Grade 7 pupils could
proceed to secondary. The new government made an early decision and in mid-year
announced that from January 1981 every child who finished Grade 7 could
automatically proceed to Form 1, regardless of examination results. Places would
be made available for all. From 22,201 in 1980 the Form 1 intake nearly
quadrupled in 1981 to 83,491. With this policy being continued from year to
year, by 1986 the secondary school population surged to over half a million.
The combined school enrollments reached just over 3 million for the first time
in 1991 – representing 28% of the total Zimbabwean population at the
time.[v]
Of course the consequences of such an explosion in
numbers were manifold and would have been debilitating for any school system.
As the Permanent Secretary wrote in his report “1981 might be described as the
year of shortages; shortages, that is of everything but
children”[vi]. There were not enough buildings, not
enough teachers, not enough teaching materials, not enough ministry staff to
conduct supervision, and certainly not enough experienced administrators.
Everything became make-do.
Providing Material and Human Resources
The logical consequence of such rapid expansion was the
urgent need to provide physical and human resources. Classrooms were of course
required, but this issue was more easily solved that the demand for teaching
staff. Existing classrooms could be double-sessioned – on occasion
triple-sessioned, so that one group used the rooms in the morning and another
group used them in the afternoon. Frequently classes were simply held in the
open, under trees with pupils sitting on the ground or on stones or logs; other
communities in resettlement areas created schools in former farm houses. In
rural areas “upper tops” became the norm; these were secondary classes held in
primary schools, using the primary classrooms. They were intended to be a
stop-gap emergency solution to accommodate numbers while new schools were
built. And new schools were indeed built – with the total number of primary
schools increasing from 2,401[vii] in 1979 to 4,530 in
1990. Secondary schools increased from 177 to 1,512 in 1990[viii]. But somehow they
never managed to keep up with the growing enrolments, especially in urban areas,
where hot-seating continues in some schools up to today.
Obviously, these were not ideal learning environments, but
probably more critical from the point of view of teaching and learning were the
provision of text books and other materials such as science equipment, maps and
atlases for Geography, and implements and consumables for practical subjects.
Even after classrooms were built it was still common in the 1980’s to find eight
to ten pupils jockeying for position around a single text
book.
But most critical of all were the human resources – the
teachers. Having set out on such an expansionist programme, the Ministry then
strained to provide teachers – and not just trained teachers, but anyone who
might fill the role. There was bound to be a time lag, because teachers have to
be trained; but what if there are not sufficient recruits with the necessary
qualifications to be trained, what is to be done then? In 1980, for example,
only 12,926 pupils completed Form 4, and of course not all of them were
successful in obtaining a certificate which would qualify them for teacher
training. Furthermore, with all the opportunities opening up after
independence, few might be interested. A 1986 projection showed that with a
teacher/pupil ratio of 1:28 and a 70% transition rate to secondary school, a
total of 18,750 secondary school teachers would be required as early as
1985[ix]. A teacher generally needed to have
completed O Level and then spend three years being trained. To solve the
problem of teachers while the additional ones were being trained, there were
only two alternatives – either bring teachers from elsewhere or utilise
untrained teachers. Zambia, which expanded its education at a far more measured
rate and from a much smaller base, chose the former and made extensive use of
expatriate teachers, especially at secondary level. ZANU PF, on the other hand,
displayed a can-do approach, sharply reducing the requirements to become a
teacher. They relied to an astonishing extent on “temporary teachers”.
Throughout the 1980’s many of these were Form 4 leavers who had failed most of
their subjects. They replaced primary school teachers who were moved up to
teach in secondary schools. Many of these, trained before 1980, had not
completed secondary school themselves, having been trained after leaving at Form
2 or even at Standard 6 (the former name for Grade 7). They did however, have
the benefit of classroom teaching experience. But even they could not fill all
the vacancies in the secondary schools, so many who ended up teaching Form 1 and
2 were in fact recent O Level failures.
Meanwhile a massive exercise in teacher training was
begun. Programmes were devised which placed student teachers in schools as
full-time classroom teachers for most of their training. In the
ZINTEC[x]programme, a crash course which trained
primary school teachers, students spent one term in lectures, followed by three
years in a classroom with minimal supervision, and finished off with another
term in college. In the conventional programme, for both primary and secondary
school teaching, a whole year out of a three year course was spent full-time in
the classroom, where there was often no better qualified person to supervise or
mentor them, and college lecturers visited once or twice a
term.
In the early years, the situation was drastic. Figures
from 1984 show that in rural secondary day schools run by district councils –
representing the vast majority of new secondary schools – the number of teachers
increased from 2,682 to 6067 between 1982 and 1984[xi]. In 1982 only 128 were trained for
secondary teaching, a figure which rose to 281 by 1984; in that year, of the
teachers in secondary school classrooms, 24.5% were primary trained, 13.8% were
students and 54% were completely untrained. The urban secondary schools fared
far better, with 29% in 1984 being trained for secondary school teaching. These
figures demonstrate the deep inequalities which rapidly developed between rural
and urban schools, especially at secondary level. The Permanent Secretary
described the situation in his 1991 report.(see quotation on page 7,
below)
The rapid expansion of teacher training colleges and
the development of the ZINTEC programme did make a rapid impact, especially on
primary school staffing. By 1989 the following had been achieved: out of
58,362[xii] primary school teachers, 5,409 were ZINTEC
graduates, 10,060 had O level plus 2, 3 or 4 years of teacher training, 6,027
had junior secondary school plus teacher training, 7,385 had standard 6 (end of
primary school) plus teacher training. 4,325 were student teachers, and a full
24,297 were completely untrained. The academic attainments of the untrained
teachers are not indicated in the statistics. Thus only 17% had completed
secondary school and followed a conventional 3 or 4 year training programme.
Another 9% had completed O level and then the ZINTEC programme. 22.9% had never
finished secondary school, having been trained before Independence, 7.3% were
students taking full teaching responsibilities and 41.6% were untrained.
In secondary schools the percentage untrained was
considerably lower by 1989, standing at 34%, however a significant number of
those with training were primary school trained (13.7%) and a further 14.3% were
students[xiii]. This left only
27.5% trained to teach at secondary level, plus 1,270 or 5% who were untrained
university graduates.
The position was to change fairly rapidly in the ensuing years, as
by 1995 the balance had shifted towards trained staff. In that year untrained
teachers constituted only 25% of the primary school staff, while 75% had some
form of training. In secondary schools 25% of the 27,458 teachers were
untrained, but nearly half of that 25% were university graduates without
certificates. So progress was being made to train teachers, but through more
than a decade children were taught primarily by untrained teachers, many of
those with very weak academic attainment. Furthermore, the rush to fill the
classrooms with bodies placed pressure on teachers’ colleges where the majority
were trained, to mass produce. Lecturers were not permitted to fail more than a
tiny few, even though others might not have reached a satisfactory standard.
Innovative approaches which would have encouraged a shift from the colonial
rote-learning methodology towards a stress on analytical and creative thinking
could hardly find a place. Very few of the college lecturers had any
preparation to become teacher educators, having been selected primarily for
their experience in the classroom and occasionally their possession of a higher
degree.
Even more rare than a trained and experienced teacher
was a trained, experienced and mature individual who could effectively
administer a school. Too often a student teacher in a rural school was the most
qualified staff member, and was appointed acting head the day he or she arrived
for teaching practice. Knowing as we do how important leadership is for the
effective running of an institution, we should not be surprised to find there
was poor administration and a high degree of absenteeism among teachers and even
heads[xiv], and discipline problems, especially in
the rural schools.
Curriculum
Having looked at the figures – the quantities of both pupils and
teachers – we next need to examine other issues which impinge on both quality
and equality – the curriculum content, as well as the learning materials
available. One of the reasons for rapidly expanding the school system was to
provide equal opportunity for all children, but government was still not
satisfied that equality was adequately catered for by mere school attendance.
They felt it necessary to ensure further that all children followed the same
curriculum. This was a sensitive issue due to the situation which had prevailed
pre-independence. While secondary education for white children was free and
compulsory, for black children it was not only fee paying, it was selective.
But beyond that, it had been decreed that only half of the black children
proceeding to secondary education could pursue an academic curriculum; the other
half would have to attend specially designed vocational schools where they would
learn practical skills such as bricklaying, building, dress making, carpentry,
metal working. Aside from the discrimination in regard to numbers, the
perception gained traction that African children were being given an inferior
secondary education, by being denied the academic. Of course there were
non-academic programmes for white children as well, but since these were by and
large accommodated in the same schools as the academic streams, they were not as
visible. The F2 schools, as the vocational schools for Africans were labelled,
thus became hated as a symbol of inequality between the races. The government
had taken equality as a guiding principle, so they had to go. The policy of
phasing out these schools was implemented and by the end of 1982 they had
disappeared and been converted into academic schools. All children in all
schools would thus follow the same, academic curriculum, and enter for the
Cambridge O Level examinations at the end of four years.
This policy ignored several facts. First, O Level was an English
examination designed for the top 20-25% of secondary school pupils in England;
the others would follow a less academic curriculum. Second, in Rhodesia, those
white children who did academic courses were divided into A and B streams, with
the B streams being allowed five years to complete O Level. Third, because only
the high achieving African children had gone to academic schools, they were all
able to complete in four years. Now, everyone would be given only four years to
complete. This was meant to implement the idea that everyone would be given
equal opportunity, and since five years would stretch the treasury too far, four
years was what could be offered.
It was immediately obvious that the majority of pupils would be
severely stressed simply in pursuing academic courses, including pure
mathematics which was a compulsory subject. But to expect that all children
learn and achieve at the same pace contradicted all knowledge accumulated over
years of study of educational practice around the world. It was clear that many
children – perhaps the majority – were being set up to fail in secondary
schools.
In designing the uniform curriculum for secondary schools, an
exception was made only for Science, but this was determined by necessity as the
new schools, especially in rural areas, were not provided with laboratories, and
the majority did not even have electricity. An extremely interesting
“Zimscience” curriculum was developed, along with a kit which could be
despatched to the schools so that experiments could still be done in the absence
of laboratories. But for the former white schools and the better resourced,
missionary and government (as opposed to council) secondary schools, separate
sciences – Biology, Physics and Chemistry – were offered, subjects which could
form the foundations for A Level sciences, which Zimscience could not. Of
course History and Geography needed to have new syllabuses which could reflect
the Zimbabwean experience, and these were duly introduced. Practical subjects
did form a part of the curriculum, with pupils generally being offered one from
a selection, depending on what the school could afford. By and large the rural
schools were poorly equipped and offered little choice, where in fact they
offered any practical subject at all. A half-hearted attempt to introduce a
socialist and Cuban inspired “Education with Production” in the mid 80’s fizzled
out after facing resistance from teachers, pupils and parents, as well as
problems of conceptualisation and resources. Similarly Political Economy faded
out as a subject after barely seeing the drawing board. Government seemed to be
unable to develop a truly revolutionary curriculum to suit their proclaimed
socialism so rather stuck to a one-size-fits-all academic curriculum sadly
inappropriate for the majority of children as well as being out of tune with for
the Zimbabwean economy.
Another characteristic of the new curricular
arrangements should not be overlooked as it has had far-reaching consequences
which affect the entire education system up to today. The progression from
Grade 7 to Form 1 had been opened to all from 1981. Although a public
examination was taken by all Grade 7 pupils, they did not need to pass in order
to proceed. While it is clear from the statistics that a meaningful number did
repeat Grade 7 in order to achieve better grades[xv], this was not required, and normally was
requested by those parents who understood the importance of achieving a standard
before going on to the next level. The vast majority simply went forward.
Ministry began to favour this, noting that children must make the best use of
their chances as no one could afford to offer them a second chance, which would
also affect Ministry planning. The idea of automatic progression took hold then
throughout the whole system. While teachers, especially in rural schools,
continued to request some children to repeat grades, by and large everyone moved
on unless they were extremely weak. This then continued through the secondary
years.
This form of automatic progression without passing or reaching a
minimum standard had far-reaching consequences which remain up to today. In the
first place, the child is constantly being exposed to material and teaching
which he cannot absorb because he does not have the prerequisite knowledge or
understanding. Each year he falls further behind and becomes more despondent
and lacking in confidence. The teachers, too, become depressed, as their pupils
fail to grasp the material. Imagine the situation in which a Form 2 teacher of
Mathematics teaches a class in which one third did not pass grade 7 Maths. The
dedicated one struggles, goes back to teach basic concepts, falls behind in her
syllabus, and still most of the pupils do not pass the Form 2 exam. But never
fear, she will be rid of them at the end of the year as they go on to Form 3
regardless. The only problem is that she will receive another group with
exactly the same problem. This situation is demoralising for both pupils and
teachers, as they realise the task is impossible and give up their efforts,
simply going through the motions. Automatic promotion and equal curriculum were
heralded as features of an education system which gives every child the
opportunity to be educated, but in fact, by forcing the pace for a child who is
not as capable and needs an alternative curriculum and/or more time, this
approach denies the child the opportunity of an appropriate education and
produces an adolescent with a low self-esteem and a frustrated teacher who will
give up trying. It is an unacceptable waste of resources, as teachers are paid
to teach children who cannot learn what they are being taught.
Equality, the burning issue
The main goal of the post-independence government was to achieve
equality of educational opportunity for all children, sometimes referred to as
democratisation. But in spite of the efforts, neither equality nor equality of
opportunity was the result. The huge divide along racial lines which remained
as a legacy from the colonial period simply shifted to create an even wider gulf
between social classes and between urban and rural children. Those families who
moved into former white residential areas now sent their children to former
white schools which retained all the facilities for learning and for sports
which they had accumulated earlier. Or they attended the mission schools which
had taken the cream of black children before Independence. They did not have
all the facilities of A schools, but they had well qualified teachers and
traditions of high standards of achievement. Government built many new primary
and secondary schools to cater for the growing numbers in the sprawling new
townships. They did not have all the facilities like swimming pools and tennis
courts found in the former white schools (now known as A schools), but they were
relatively well built and adequate for learning, as well as being staffed
increasingly through the 80’s by qualified teachers. Their main disadvantage
was the necessity for hot seating, which A schools by and large managed to
avoid.
The widest gap fell between urban and rural schools. This was
partly because so many new schools needed to be built, especially for secondary
school pupils. Government could not manage and relied on donor assistance, but
also required parents to contribute their labour for the building. The schools
were run not by government but by rural councils, where administrative skills
and experience were lacking. But by far the biggest distinction came in the
quality of teaching and learning, as many years passed before these rural
schools were fully staffed by qualified teachers, and even when they were, most
teachers tried to avoid them and find positions at least in the towns or smaller
cities, if not in the major centres.
Add to these disadvantages the inability of many
children, not necessarily rural, but in all communities, to cope with an
academic curriculum, and the difficulty of achieving any kind of equal
opportunity becomes clear. Children in different circumstances will not become
equal by being offered the same opportunities; they need to be offered
opportunities appropriate to their situation and their capacities. As the
Permanent Secretary reported at the end of 1991 : “Most of the old and well
established schools continued to maintain satisfactory standards of work while
the majority of the newly established schools lagged far behind”[xvi]
The Drop-outs
Before the consequences of expansion and the uniform curriculum on
the quality of learning are discussed, it is important to see what happened to
the children who entered schools in Grade 1 and Form 1. Did they remain in
school? What did they learn, and how were they able to use their education
after leaving school?
The ever increasing numbers tell us that the majority
did stay in school. Nevertheless, there were a worrying number of drop-outs
even before the end of primary school. A look at the figures reveals that of
the large 1981 intake, just over 30% did not make it to Grade
7[xvii]. This was perhaps
to be expected from a post-war influx that included many overage children, and
it was reversed when fewer than 20% of the 1982 intake dropped out before Grade
7. The drop-out figure increased again, however, and remained above 20%
throughout the decade.
What is even more disturbing, however, is that the majority of
those who did not reach Grade 7 dropped out before they even reached Grade 4.
The numbers varied, but generally ranged between 12 and 20% who did not go
beyond Grade 3, with the highest being the 1989 intake with 22.9% and the lowest
being 13.3% dropping out before Grade 4. It averages out at 17.5%. Even more
startling is the drop-out rate after Grade 1, which ranges from a low of 5.8% to
a high of 21%, with the average being 10.7%. A child who leaves school after
Grade 1 cannot expect to benefit in any lasting way. Grade 4 is significant,
because it is generally held that a child who does not have at least 4 years of
schooling does not acquire literacy to a level adequate to retain it to
adulthood. Thus one can expect that 17.5% of the population was not attaining
lasting literacy. It is noteworthy that this level of drop-outs continued
through the 90’s and the 2000’s up to the present.
This high drop-out in junior primary school questions
the credibility of claims for high levels of literacy in Zimbabwe. Certainly,
Zimbabwe’s literacy rates – both youth and adult - rank high amongst African
nations, but it is difficult to reconcile Zimbabwe’s claim of 93.9% youth
literacy (ages 15-24) in 1990 and 97.6% in 2002 with a drop-out rate of 17.5%
before Grade 4. These figures also do not take account of those who never
entered school at all[xviii], or who did not acquire literacy while there[xix]. An adult literacy rate of 90% in 2002 also seems highly
unlikely, as does even the 80.7% recorded for 1980. Of course, literacy is not
a fixed concept and can be measured in different ways[xx], but it is
difficult to understand where a figure in the high 90’s could have been sourced
with continuing primary school drop-out rates averaging above 15% before Grade 4
and over 20% by Grade 7.
What happened to the approximately 75% who did complete primary
school? The Ministry’s announcement of automatic progression to Form 1 without
any form of selection or restriction opened the door to all. However, not all
ventured through it. In 1981, 85% of Grade 7 leavers proceeded to secondary
school, as the excitement of the possibilities open to them took hold. However,
it never reached that level again, and by the end of the decade it had dropped
below 70% and there it remained. If we consider those children who entered
Grade 1 after independence, the percentage of each cohort which transitioned to
Form 1 hovered around 50%, for some years going just above, and some just below,
but never reaching above 54%. This was, nevertheless, a staggering increase
from the less than 20% of pre-independence days.
The drop-out rates of those who did proceed to Form 1 are also
worth looking at. The first group who started Form 1 after independence, in
1981, followed through well, with only 15% failing to reach Form 4. The rates
improved for the next two years, and then began a steady decline, from 17.9% of
the 1984 Form 1 class to 38.9% of the 1987 class, then improving to 30% and
finally 22% for the 1992 class. If we look at how many survived from Grade 1
right through to Form 4, the story is similarly grim. Of those entering Grade 1
in 1981, only 32.8% registered for Form 4 eleven years later. However, from
there, figures improved slightly over the next few years, rising to 41% for the
1992 Grade 1 cohort.
Ultimately, however, the overall percentages who
continued in school until Form 4 took a steady downward trend. Those who
entered Grade 1 in 1993 showed a dismal record. Before enrolling in Grade 2,
21.3 % had already dropped out. And by the time that cohort reached Form 4 in
2003, only 38% remained in school.[xxi]
The compelling question of course, is what happened to those who
dropped out – at whatever stage along the way. But we will leave the answer
until we have considered several other aspects and impacts of the development of
the education system through the 1980’s.
Standards of Learning Achievement
For an impressionistic view of how well the children were doing,
we have to look at the Grade 7 exam results. Pupils were examined in only two
subjects, English and Mathematics, and graded with a score from 1 to 9.
Anything up to a 6 was considered a pass. In 1988, the year the 1982 cohort
were in Grade 7, 31.5% failed English, obtaining marks of 7, 8 or 9, and 25.2%
failed Maths. This is not a very edifying result, but also not too
discouraging, given the disruption of these years, with many schools resorting
to hot seating, others being constructed, many having secondary classes located
within them, and virtually all rural schools, and many urban ones, having large
numbers of untrained teachers.
The combination of the relatively poor primary school
performance, the desperate staffing situation and the academic curriculum should
temper our expectations of success for pupils at O Level. Again, we must turn
to examination results for an indicator. In 1984, a mere 21.9% of O level
candidates passed 5 subjects at O level. But these pupils had been privileged
to be in the first cohort experiencing universal transition to Form 1, when the
confusion in the schools had not yet developed as it was to do a few years
later, and the post-independence excitement about schooling still permeated the
atmosphere. By 1989, however, only 13.4% of pupils writing O levels managed to
achieve a pass in five or more subjects.[xxii] In that year, 39.2% passed no subject at
all, and another 36.7% passed 1 or 2 subjects. These were pupils who had
entered Grade 1 just before independence, had passed through primary schools
just ahead of the post-independence bulge, but experienced throughout their
primary years the serious problems of adjustment to huge numbers of children and
an absence of qualified teachers. They had transitioned to Form 1 in 1986, when
there were beginning to be more trained teachers, especially in urban schools,
but the majority of teachers were still untrained. Doubtless, if a detailed
study were to be done, it would show that most of those passing had attended
urban schools, mission schools and private schools, and very few had attended
rural day secondary schools. At this stage, the examination offered was still
the English Cambridge certificate, although syllabuses had changed to suit
Zimbabwean children, and plans were already under way to create a home-grown
examinations board. But unfortunately, the 1989 results were to become more or
less the standard achieved throughout the 1990’s – sometimes slightly higher,
but rarely reaching above 15% of candidates passing five
subjects.
It is possible that the low pass rate at O level, particularly in
rural schools, influenced the drop-out rate. Children in secondary schools
could see the poor success rate of the pupils just ahead of them, and lost hope
that they themselves could benefit from continuing to Form 4. Better options
for a future life beckoned from South Africa or from the growing practice of
illegal gold digging or panning in rivers.
Social Impacts
Prior to Independence, as noted above, few children progressed to
secondary education. Segregated schools for Africans existed in the urban
townships, but more opportunities were available in the mission schools,
primarily located in rural areas. It was the general assumption that attendance
at secondary school led to an escape from rural life and integration into the
wage earning urban classes. Leaving for boarding school at the age of 14 was the
beginning of a new life, away from the village home. Since only the select
entered secondary schools, results were usually very good, and those who
completed secondary school did obtain permanent employment within a narrow
sphere of occupations. Those who did not obtain a place in the secondary school
remained at home to help with the field work and the household chores, at least
for the next few years until they reached adulthood and perhaps sought
employment as wage labourers or lower level clerks.
When secondary education was extended to all, a policy was
implemented to provide day schools throughout rural areas. In densely populated
areas, this was not a problem, and children might walk 2 or 3 kilometres to
their new school. But in areas where the population was more widely
distributed, the norm was more likely to be 5 to 10 kilometres. This then
occupied a good portion of a child’s day – at least an hour in each direction,
often more. And it represented not only time but energy, which took its toll
especially when there were drought years and little to eat. The young person of
14 or 15 found himself or herself in a dilemma. Long hours were spent at school
and travelling to and fro. Homework assigned was meant to be done, but in the
absence of electricity, it had to be done by candle or paraffin light and only
after household chores like gathering firewood, cooking, washing or ironing
clothes had been completed.
Furthermore, the absence of adolescents from the home during
school days deprived the rural economy of much-needed labour in the fields.
Many families tried to balance the role of pupil with labour, withdrawing
children from school on those days when they were required to take the cattle
for dipping, or when help was needed with the ploughing. Children who
previously spent days chasing birds from ripening grain were now in school on
most days and not available for such chores. Thus a labour shortage was felt,
and at the same time, adolescents were torn between their seemingly conflicting
roles. Given the long days at school, the ambivalent family roles, and the poor
conditions at home for studying or even doing homework, it is hardly surprising
that many rural children dropped out of schools and those who did not achieved
very low pass rates. There were many rural secondary day schools where no
student had ever achieved passes in five subjects at O Level up to the end of
the 1990’s.
But there were further problems for some: what about those areas
where it was not viable to build a secondary school within walking distance of
everyone? A secondary school could not be built for the 100 pupils who might
live beyond a 10 km radius. They may have walked 3 kilometres to primary
school, but more than 10 or 15 kilometres to the secondary school was not a
distance which could be walked to and fro on a daily basis. Still, many refused
to be deprived of their chance to continue with their schooling. If the school
was 20 kilometres away, they simply camped out near the school during the week,
sleeping on shop verandahs, erecting temporary shelters, and in effect creating
informal boarding arrangements which were totally unsupervised. It does not
take much imagination to conclude that a miniscule number of these pupils could
benefit from this type of provision. Girls became pregnant, boys overindulged
in alcohol and most dropped out of school before reaching Form 4. Very few of
these children made any progress with their education, and yet they had been
divorced from their traditional roles in their homes and often became a problem
to themselves and their families, seeing themselves as failures, without a new
direction to take for their lives.
School Leavers
The statistics on drop-outs given above indicate quite clearly
that through the 1980’s, on average more than 60% of the pupils left school
before completing Form 4. Of those who did complete Form 4, not more than 15%
obtained the five passes required to go on to tertiary education or acquire some
form of training or employment. That means that out of all the children who
entered schools, only about 6% had a clear road ahead of them when they left,
at whatever stage that might be. What happened to the others? A substantial
number did not complete Grade 7, more did not transition to Form 1 or dropped
out during the high school years, and to these were then added those who failed
to make the grade at O level – altogether on average 94% of each cohort.
Those who had reached Form 4 and failed, often repeated subjects
until they managed to accumulate 5 passes. Then they could proceed to a course
which might secure them employment in the formal economy. Others went back to
Form 3, but these were not the majority, especially in rural schools. The rest
just disappeared into the community, forever changed by their experience of
attending secondary school and raising their hopes of escaping from village
life, only to have them dashed. They had for the most part achieved literacy and
numeracy but were not prepared for any further training or for anything else.
Few had learned skills which they could put to productive use, and furthermore
they had adopted the attitude that they should be employed. That was the goal,
but few attained it, leading the rest to see themselves as failures. Much
research needs to be undertaken to find out the types of adjustments made by
these children and their families and what the impact was on rural livelihoods.
Surely if the post-independence policy makers had been less concerned with
achieving an equality which was unattainable, by providing an academic education
for all, we could have made better provision for the hundreds of thousands of
young people who left schools unprepared for tertiary education and unequipped
to enter anything but a subsistence economy. Surely alternative arrangements for
schooling and for appropriate curriculum might have served them and their
families and the rural economy more effectively to make the money and energy
expended on rural day schools become an investment rather than an expensive
consumption component of the national budget.
Economic Impacts
Education is frequently viewed by economic planners as
an item of investment rather than consumption. However, it will only be a
productive investment if there are future returns to the economy from the vast
sums expended to educate all children. In 1991 28% of Zimbabwe’s population
were in school. This became an enormous burden on the treasury, and was
identified by the IMF as an expense which had to be reduced. This resulted in
the reintroduction of school fees for urban primary school children, and the
reduction of inputs from government which had supported operating costs.
Resentments were widely expressed, but it was indeed a fact that government was
spending far beyond its means. Education had become a consumption item, when
the economy was not growing fast enough to generate revenues to invest or to
create the jobs which would enable those young people to be more productive,
adding value to the national economy. In 1982, there were 80,000 school
leavers, but only 10,500 jobs were created. This trend continued through the
80’s, with total employment actually dropping in some years.[xxiii] Analyst Brian Raftopolous points out that this lack of jobs for
school leavers had begun already in the pre-independence period, but with the
numbers escalating so rapidly, the problems produced would become a social and
economic time-bomb. As a prominent educator Rungano Zvogbo wrote in 1985 “While
free primary education for all is a sound democratic ideal, it is not sound and
practical economics, particularly for a developing country.”[xxiv] Aside from the strain
put on both the economy and the education system itself, he notes that the
expansion raises the “question of the provisions that have to be made for the
future employment of such large numbers of students who will leave school each
year to seek jobs in an economy that is not growing at a corresponding rate.”
And yet the demand for human resources required in the technical and
professional areas is unlikely to be met “because so far there has been no
radical transformation of the curriculum to facilitate the achievement of
national objectives”[xxv]. The education planning falls short, he
notes, because it fails to take account of the future of the huge numbers of
school leavers.
Reform attempts
By the late 90’s it was clear to all that the education
system was in deep crisis. Although nearly 100% of classroom teachers were now
trained, schools had been built, and even the examination system localised,
there were intractable problems. The mismatch between the economy and education
was clear – both in terms of the unaffordable budget inputs and in terms of the
large outputs of school leavers with no place in the face of declining
production. Examination results were not improving for those at O
level[xxvi] and indiscipline in schools, among both
teachers and pupils was being noted.
The President appointed a commission to enquire into
education and make recommendations for changes. This commission, generally
known as the Nzirimasanga Commission, publishing its report in
1999[xxvii], was scathing in
its criticism of a system which it deemed to be in a parlous state. Amongst
many other suggestions, its major recommendation was the differentiation of the
system, introducing separate streams especially after Form 2, which would
provide vocational and technical courses for those less suited to purely
academic work. The government chose to suppress the report to avoid public
discussion, while quietly paying lip service to some of the recommendations.
However, no attempts were made to undertake a wholesale revision on the lines
recommended. Through the first decade of this century, the system as it was
developed in the 1980’s has remained in place, while being severely buffeted by
political and economic gales which played havoc with even its better
features.
Conclusion
The democratisation of education, making schooling available for
all, was a great achievement of Zimbabwe’s post-independence government.
However, we do ourselves and Zimbabwe no favour if we simply praise the
expansion and make questionable claims for its great success, without examining
the legacy of problems which it bequeathed to future generations. It is
difficult to deny that the system served the few very well, while failing to
provide an adequate preparation for life for the many. The academic curriculum
prescribed for all made attainment impossible for the majority who were unable
to cope and yet could not be offered anything else and left school in limbo,
unable to follow further education or gain any employment. Nearly a third had
left school before completing Grade 7, and more than half did not finish four
years of secondary school. The rapid expansion produced its own logic in
inadequacy of infrastructure, learning materials and especially qualified
teachers. Standards plummeted, being reflected in the examination scores,
affecting in particular children attending rural day secondary schools. The O
Level examination system, never intended by its originators for more than 25% of
children, ensured that the vast majority failed. Vast amounts were expended on
teaching children who would not be able to succeed. But even for those who did
succeed, there were no jobs available, as the democratisation began to produce
hundreds of thousands of school leavers every year, while the economy
contracted. Equality remained a distant dream as yawning gaps developed between
the successful and the rest. Zvobgo wrote with foresight in 1985:
“the overriding objective behind current planning
strategies is the provision of school facilities and opportunities to all
children. This is, of course, a moral, social and political obligation which
the government has to fulfil, given the fact that this is partly what the armed
struggle was all about. It was a fight for equal access to education for
children of all races. This objective must be carefully planned for and
achieved without incurring problems for which there may eventually be no
solutions”[xxviii]
The haste of the democratisation, the lack of planning
in relation to learners’ realities or economic imperatives ensured that those
problems were indeed incurred for which the solutions have remained elusive up
to the present. Politics trumped realism, leaving the legacy of failure which we
must struggle today to overcome.
Mary Ndlovu is a social justice and human
rights activist with a background in education in Zimbabwe and Zambia,
particularly teacher education, curriculum, and the relationship between
education and development. She has lived in Bulawayo since
1980.
[i] The totals given in the “Monthly Digest of
Statistics” CSO Harare, December 1982 are 892,651 for primary enrolments and
73,335 for secondary, together 965,986.
[ii] All enrolment statistics from 1980 to 1995
are from the “Annual report of the secretary for education and culture for the
year ended 31st December
1995”, 45.
[iii] Ministry also began to allow children
to enrol in Grade 1 in the year they would turn 6 instead of 7 as
previously.
[vi] “Annual Report of the Permanent Secretary of
the Ministry of Education for the year 1981” p.
2
[vii] It must be remembered that this number would
be low because many schools were closed due to
war.
[viii] Kanyenze
G. et al Beyond the Enclave: Towards a Pro-Poor and
Inclusive Development strategy for Zimbabwe, Weaver Press, Harare, 2011,
304-5
[ix] Zvobgo,
R. “Education and the challenge of Independence” in Zimbabwe: the Political Economy of transition
1980-1986, Codesria, Harare, 1986 p.
349
[x] Zimbabwe Integrated Teacher Education
Course
[xi] Chivore,
B.S.R. Teacher Education in Post-Independent
Zimbabwe ZIMFEP 1990 p.
122-123 quoting sources from the Ministry of Education Planning
Division
[xii] Colclough C et al Education in Zimbabwe: Issues of Quantity and
Quality SIDA Education division documents No 50. December 1990
, 49
[xiv] See Secretary’s report for 1990, p.
6
[xv] Generally the number of pupils in Grade 7 is
larger than the figure for the same cohort in Grade
6
[xvi] Annual Report of the Permanent Secretary for
Education and Culture for the Year ending December 31 1991, p.
4
[xvii] Calculations have been made by the
writer, based on figures in the PS Report of 1995
[xix] Extremely difficult to estimate. Many would
have dropped out before Grade 7
[xx] In
an article entitled “Monitoring and measuring literacy” in 2005, D.A. Wagner
noted on page 5 that “countries... typically rely on a national population
census model, which most often determine literacy ability by self-assessment
questionnaires and/or by means of a proxy variable utilizing the number of years
of primary schooling (i.e. 5 or 6 or 8 years of primary schooling equals a
‘literate’ person”). He further notes that “literacy may be simply inferred
from school attendance: those with 4 (or 8 or 12) years of formal schooling are
assumed to be literate. Or, in other societies, literacy rates are calculated
from the numbers of persons who answer ‘yes’ to the simple question ‘Can you
read and write?’ It is now known that such approaches to presumed literacy may
be quite misleading, for a host of reasons.” As a result, such methods are
increasingly being questioned, and there is a move to estimate literacy only
through actual reading and writing performance. Wagner also notes that “it must
be recognized that any change in the methodology used for calculating literacy
rates in a population might result in uncomfortable political consequences”
www.literacy.org/sites/literacy.irg/files/publications/Wagner_MeasLit_GM...
[xxi] 2003 figures are from the Annual Report of
the Secretary for Education, Sport and Culture,
2003.
[xxii] Permanent Secretary’s Reports 1986 and
1989
[xxiii] Raftopolous, B. “Human Resources Development
and the Problem of Labour Utilisation” in Zimbabwe: the Political Economy of
Transition” ed. Mandaza I. Codesria, Harare,
1986 , 298
[xxiv] Zvobgo,
R. “Education and the challenge of Independence” in Zimbabwe: the Political Economy of
Transition, ed Mandaza, I.
Codesria, Harare, 1986 p. 341.
[xxv]Ibid p. 345 (both
quotations)
[xxvi] Results at A Level were of course much
better, considering the stringent selection process which admitted only the best
O level candidates to the sixth form
[xxvii] The report was produced under the title
“Report of the Presidential Commission of Inquiry into Education and Training,
August, 1999
