Zimbabwe's Educational Legacy from the 1980s: was it all so rosy?

In this paper, Ndolvu essentially argues that "politics trumped realism" in the 1980s when it came to planning a new education system for an independent Zimbabwe. Her paper explores the claims made about Zimbabwe's education successes, and contrasts these with educational statistics and facts about the challenges faced in the new Zimbabwe, and she takes a critical look at how those challenges were overcome. Ndlovu acknowledges that it isn't 'all bad', but implores us to now 'tell the truth' so we can focus forward:

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?

Ndlovu's arguments have particular currency in the wake of the poor O'Level results announced in February this year. In this detailed discussion of Zimbabwe's education legacy she challenges the perception that Zimbabwe once boasted the 'best education system in Africa' and failings now are new.

Ndlovu observes that although it is correct to say that schools have suffered drastically through the past decade of economic collapse and political violence, the fact is that the "present dysfunction originates much further back". Her analyses of the problems includes, for example, questioning the widely held (and much cited) belief that Zimbabwe has an extremely high literacy rate. With regards to this, she points to the year on year drop-out statistics, especially identifying the high numbers of children who drop out of school before Grade 4:

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 90s and the 2000s up to the present.

The paper discusses a range of decisions and problems extending from the 1980s which continue to impact on the achievement potential for Zimbabwean children today. These include curriculum design decisions, shortages of human and material resources, teacher training standards, and political imperatives. Mary Ndlovu concludes:

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 o f 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"

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.