The Origins of Africa’s Education System

I was sitting with my grandmother one evening, watching her skillfully weave baskets, when I asked a question that had been lingering in my mind for years: “How did people learn before schools were built here?” She paused, her hands resting on the half-finished basket, and said, “We learned by doing. We learned from the land, from our elders, from solving problems together.”

Her words stuck with me. They made me wonder how we went from learning through experience, storytelling, and collaboration to sitting in rows, memorizing formulas, and chasing grades. The answer, I discovered, lies deep in our history, in the choices that were made during colonization—choices that were never designed to help us thrive.

A System Built for Control

When European colonial powers arrived in Africa, education wasn’t part of their initial plan. Their focus was extraction taking resources, land, and labor to fuel their industries back home. But as their presence grew, they realized they needed people to help run their administration, maintain order, and facilitate their goals. That’s when the idea of formal education entered the picture.

Colonial schools weren’t built to empower Africans. They were designed to serve the needs of the colonizers. The curriculum focused on basic literacy, numeracy, and practical skills that would produce workers for the colonial economy clerks, messengers, and manual laborers. The message was clear: learn enough to serve, but not enough to question.

Think about it. These schools didn’t teach critical thinking or leadership. They didn’t encourage innovation or creativity. Instead, they rewarded obedience and conformity. And because education was controlled by the colonizers, it often came with the added lesson that African knowledge, languages, and cultures were inferior to Western ones. Over time, this created a deep sense of dependency—a belief that progress could only come from external systems and ideas.

What Independence Didn’t Change

When African nations gained independence, there was hope that education would be reimagined to reflect our values, cultures, and aspirations. But rewriting a system isn’t easy when it’s all you’ve known. Many post-independence governments kept the colonial structure in place, believing it was the fastest way to create stability and catch up with the rest of the world.

So, we replaced colonial administrators with African leaders but kept the same exam-driven, rigid model of education. We taught our children to pass tests, but not to ask questions. We prepared them for jobs in government offices and factories, but not to solve the unique challenges of our communities. In many ways, we inherited a system that wasn’t built for us and tried to make it work anyway.

The Cost of Holding On

This legacy of colonization still shapes our education system today, and its impact is everywhere. Students graduate with theoretical knowledge but lack practical skills. Creativity is stifled in favor of rote memorization. And instead of encouraging us to find solutions that fit our context, we’re often taught to replicate ideas from elsewhere.

Take the unemployment crisis, for example. Every year, thousands of young people graduate, but the jobs they were trained for are either scarce or irrelevant in today’s economy. It’s not because they’re uneducated it’s because they were educated in a system that values conformity over adaptability.

And it’s not just the students who suffer. Communities lose out on the innovative thinkers, creators, and leaders they desperately need. The economy loses out on businesses and industries that could be built by young entrepreneurs with the right tools. And Africa, as a whole, loses out on its potential to lead the world with homegrown solutions.

Rethinking Education

So, how do we break free from this legacy? How do we build an education system that reflects who we are and prepares us for the future? The answers aren’t easy, but they’re worth pursuing.

  1. Bring Back Local Knowledge: Before colonization, African communities had their own systems of learning through apprenticeship, storytelling, and collective problem-solving. These methods weren’t just practical; they were deeply rooted in culture and values. We need to find ways to integrate them into modern education.
  2. Teach for Today, Not Yesterday: The world has changed, and so should our schools. Students need skills like critical thinking, digital literacy, and entrepreneurship to succeed in the 21st century. We can’t keep preparing them for jobs that no longer exist.
  3. Encourage Questions, Not Just Answers: An education system that discourages questioning is one that discourages growth. Teachers should inspire curiosity, reward creativity, and give students the freedom to explore new ideas.
  4. Celebrate African Identity: For too long, our education system has treated African languages, history, and knowledge as second-class. We need to reclaim and celebrate our identity, teaching students to take pride in who they are and where they come from.

The Role We All Play

This isn’t just a task for governments or educators it’s something we can all contribute to. Parents can encourage their children to think critically and embrace their culture. Communities can support programs that teach practical skills and local knowledge. And young people can take charge of their own learning, seeking out resources that go beyond the classroom.

I think back to my grandmother’s basket how each one was different, how she learned to weave by watching, practicing, and experimenting. She didn’t need a classroom to teach her creativity or problem-solving. She learned by doing, by failing, and by trying again. That’s the kind of education we need one that values experience, innovation, and individuality.

We can’t change the past, but we can build a future that works for us. A future where education isn’t about serving someone else’s system but about empowering our own. Where students graduate not just with certificates, but with the skills and confidence to lead, create, and solve problems.

It won’t be easy, but it’s possible. And it starts with asking the right questions: Who is this system really for? What kind of future do we want to create? And how can we teach the next generation to build it?

Because when we get education right, we don’t just change lives we change nations. And that’s a legacy worth fighting for.

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