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INTRODUCTION
Can Africa Learn From Africa?
Can the World Learn From Africa?
A report released in June 2011 by Phyllis Freeman and Goolam Mohamedbhai, two internationally acknowledged experts on higher education, examined Addis Ababa University's (AAU's) postgraduate development and expansion supported by the Swedish International Development Agency (SIDA) for 92.9 million SEK (Swedish Kroner's). āWhile all the quality questions deserve a great deal of analytical attention. ā¦ Ethiopia's experiment, and AAU's central role within it, amount to an experiment from which the world can learnā (Freeman & Mohamedbhai, 2011, p. 26).
The two editors of this publication have taken a large share in the development and conduct of this incredible experience for over 5 years. The conceptualization of this revolutionary postgraduate expansion of masters and PhD programs largely benefited from three earlier pilot projects of postgraduate education at AAU. Although these three programs were independently developed and managed, the projects all shared a unique approach toward capacity building in higher education. The vision was that it is possible to develop quality postgraduate educationāincluding the doctoral levelāin a university that does not possess in situ its own large number of academic staff. Such a vision would become reality if a sizable consortium of higher education professionals from around the world supported the programs. This would require that the entire system of delivering the content and managing graduate education be radically transformed and reengineered. Although founded in 1951, AAU had less than 900 students enrolled in its masters programs prior to 2006, and only 89 students enrolled in doctoral programs. Five years later, in academic year 2011, the same university registered over 9,000 students for master degrees and graduate specializations, and over 1,300 as doctoral students in various programs of study.
The conversation needed to mount such an ambitious effort at AAU took more than a year. Dialogue and discussion occurred within the university, as well as with political and economic actors of the country, the community at large, the Ethiopian Diaspora abroad, international bilateral and multilateral development partners, and several international research and educational institutions. As a result, university management set a target of enrolling 5,000 PhD students in the next 10 years. Except for a very few positive voices (Levine, 2008; Nordling, 2008), the level of resistance, skepticism and raillery was such that the experiment was almost stopped. Yet, interestingly, the majority of those who resisted the idea of the expansion of higher educationāparticularly the expansion of postgraduate and terminal degree programs at AAUādid not draw their analysis or opposition on the basis that there wasn't a need for this kind of development. Instead, they opposed the idea based on the possibility that it could take place.
Without the determination of the then university leadership, and the support of some courageous national and international partners, it would have been difficult for these programs to take hold. With bold support, the Ethiopian Diaspora in different parts of the world, the Ethiopian government, particularly the Ministry of Capacity Building, and the Swedish International Development Agency played very important roles. It has to be said that in Africa in general, and in the case of Ethiopia in particular, the time was more for ayechalem (it is impossible) rather than yechalal (we can make it happen), when proposing ideas for social change and transformation. It was a time in which disenchantment was the rule. This type of general disenchantment can be observed in many part of Africa. Often, the general situation in the continent is depicted in cynical fashion, not only by the western media but also by different African elites. This is, at the very least, paradoxical.
To illustrate what we mean by this paradoxical situation, let our discussion remain for a while on Ethiopia's effort to develop higher education. Ethiopia's deliberate orientation to the western model of education began in 1907. At that time, the country abandoned and discounted its multiple, homegrown models of formal education. Starting with the first school named after the Emperor Menelik II, Ethiopia systematically replaced its educational system with the European model. At the time, Ethiopia could have made the choice of transforming and developing its own model of education, which in many respects would have been less costly and more efficient and feasible. Nevertheless, for close to a century, education in Ethiopia remained a limited and scarce commodity that benefited only a few.
The progress in access to higher education is encouraging. The total enrollment in Ethiopian higher education was less than 10,000 at the end of the 1980s. The number has jumped to over 200,000 today. Many have rightfully criticized that the expansion is at risk in relation to the quality of the education system at large, and consequently this will affect the country's development negatively. These critics are correct that the quality of education needs timely attention and important corrective measures. They are incorrect, however, in arguing that the progress made in developing many new graduate programs should be halted automatically by downsizing the educational opportunities opened to thousands of Ethiopians.
The limited example presented here suggests that the way forward is not an easy route. It also suggests, however, that the situation is not worse than the comparative past, and that the educational transformation that the country is witnessing can even be considered a major achievement. Why then did a sizable number of the educated elite of the countryāat least at the launch of these programs and even today for a limited number of themā have difficulty perceiving the development of new graduate programs as a promising future for Ethiopia? Is the past system that excluded so many citizens from the opportunity of access to higher education still preferable?
It is common knowledge that quality of education does not exist in a vacuum, but, rather, it exists in relation to other elements. The country's development agenda and the level of the contribution of education to it may be considered as one among many components. There is no need of deep analysis of the Ethiopian political, economical, and social situation to understand that the system fails in this perspective. For the system to be valid, it should have demonstrated its capacity to transform the life of the large majority of the poor of the country. But it didn't. Thus, it is hard to believe that resistance to the development of graduate education is based on a preference for the past system that excluded so many from advanced degrees.
Does resistance to the growth of higher education in general, and postgraduate programs in particular, result from the expansion as massive, as opposed to an alternative of more gradual and controlled development as suggested by some? For this to be a valid argument, two issues need to be clarified. First, can the expansion of access to higher education in Ethiopia be qualified as massive? Second, what is a gradual and controlled expansion?
Ethiopia is today the second largest populated country in Africa, with 90,873,739 inhabitants. According to the UNESCO report on higher education, the gross enrollment in higher education in Ethiopia is 210,456 students (Altbach, Resisburg, & Rumbley, 2009). Among those registered in higher education in Ethiopia, less than 12,000 are in postgraduate programs, and less than 1,400 are pursuing a terminal degree. For the same period, the UNESCO report reveals that Egypt registers a gross enrollment of 2,153,865 with a population of 81 million, a little less than Ethiopia. The Republic of Korea has 3,223,414 students for a population of 50 million, close to half of the Ethiopia population. Tunisia a country of 10,589,025 people, one-ninth of the population of Ethiopia, has an enrollment of 263,414 students for the same year, exceeding by over 50,000 the gross enrollment of Ethiopia.
It should be noted, that in the past few years, Ethiopia has developed and expanded its public university system from three to some 22 public universities, and 10 completely new universities are on the way to be opened. At the time of launching the project of expanding postgraduate and PhD programs at AAU, the total number of academic staff in public higher learning institutions holding PhDs was less than 700, of whom close to 80% were employed at AAU. Not to mention the need of highly qualified personnel for the country, these figures, if need be, show clearly that the expansion of higher education in Ethiopia is still in its infancy stage, compared to other countries of Africa and the developed world. From this data, one can easily understand that framing Ethiopia's effort as a massive expansion is an overstatement to say the least.
The second issue that needs response is the possible alternative of a gradual and controlled expansion of higher education in Ethiopia. A very limited number of Ethiopians have been educated in different universities around the world as early as the end of the 19th century. It is only in 1950 that Ethiopia established the first institution of higher learning under the name of University College of Addis Ababa, which enrolled 71 students at its opening. The university remained until 1978 as an institution delivering courses only for undergraduate students. From 1978 up to 2006, AAU bestowed masters degrees to less than 3,000 students (an average of 107 graduates per year), and PhD degrees to less than 60 students (an average of 2 PhD holders per year).
For close to a century, sending students to universities abroad remained the main strategy for educating Ethiopian students at the postgraduate and PhD levels. Although it is difficult to get reliable data on the number of those who have been trained at the PhD level outside the country, our estimation, based on several studies, is that the number does not exceed 4,000, including those who have passed away. Thus, in our view, Ethiopia has tried and failed for over a century in what can be defined as a gradual and controlled strategy and orientation to higher education. In term of human capital development, the results for the country's needs of today are more than deceiving. AAU bestowed PhD degrees to only to three doctoral candidates in the year 2004ā2005 and registered less than 100 students in PhD programs that same year. The difference with Egypt is striking on this point. During the year 2004ā2005, 22,203 PhD candidates were registered in Egyptian universities, and 3,984 graduated that same year (Center for Special Studies Programs, 2011). Aware of this state of affairs, it would have been an incredible blunder not to try every possible way to expand and advance higher education in Ethiopia. Not to explore multiple avenues to transform the situation, not to take the maximum risks would have been a major error. The authors of the report cited at the beginning conceptualized
Ethiopia's and AAU's remarkable experiment in expanding higher education as high riskāhigh gain. That is, despite a myriad of risk and discomforts we catalogue in this report, we feel that the risk of NOT embracing this revolutionary expansion seems greater than that of a retreat to an evolutionary process. ā¦ We did not begin this evaluation with this perspective; but we embrace it at the close of our review. (Freeman & Mohamedbhai, 2011, p. 27)
If the arguments developed on these pages are accepted, what then can explain the relative reluctance and or resistance for this very limited expansion of postgraduate and PhD programs in Ethiopia? How could some people find it acceptable to retard the implementation of any action that could help the needed transformation and avoid the cost incurred by the country by not trying? When the opportunity to open programs became known, why were perceived differences not transcended? Why did a shared sense of urgency not develop everywhere, at every level among the educated elite of the country? It will be difficult to respond to all of these questions, but we can at least propose some questions and hypotheses. Could part of the response be answered by the following questions?
ā¢ Have Ethiopiansāmore precisely the educated eliteālost hope regarding the future of their country and their people? Does the loss of hope diminish one's resolve to take bold actions that can bring needed transformation?
ā¢ Is the development and expansion of higher education perceived by those already holding masters and terminal degrees as a treat to their own position, a kind of conflict of interest? Is there the fear of possible competitors in the job and consultancy market, or loss of prestige and of resources? How many times have we observed declarations such as āI am the only cardiologist of Ethiopia;ā āI am the only brain surgeon;ā āI am the only sociologist;ā and so on pronounced with clearly discernible pride in the voice of the person?
ā¢ Do ideas, theories, concepts, actions, plans, programs, and innovations articulated by Africans for African development and transformation have any currency within the African educated elite? Alternatively, do the African elite buy only ideas, theories, innovations, and so on when they are produced abroad by others?
The intention of this publication is not about knowledge production in Africa that has a long tradition. In some areas, knowledge production in Africa takes precedence over what has been developed by the western civilization. Several researchers have largely demonstrated this thesis. Some include the work of Chiek Anta Diop on Ancient Egypt, ThƩophile Onbenga's extensive writings on languages, Claude Somner's work on Zere Yacob, Claude Ake's on social sciences and particularly Ibn Kheldum's contribution to sociology. Our argument is more about today. The time has come for the voice of Africa researchers, academics, thinkers, planners, and practitioners to be heard not only by Africans, but also by all those with whom alliances and real partnerships are possible. This particularly holds true in the fields of study related to social work and social development. Because it is a basic principle of social work to struggle for the voiceless, our quest in presenting the work of scholars in Africa is to bring the voice of their research to the attention of others. Thus, in preparing the call for papers for this collection, one important criterion was required: The first author must be a person living and working in Africa.
Initially, we requested short proposals of 1,000 words or less (2ā4 pages with references and an abstract of 50 words). We received 42 proposals, representing nine countries in Africa: South Africa (15), Ethiopia (9), Kenya (4), Namibia (3), Zambia (3), Nigeria (2), Uganda (2), Cameroon (1), Egypt (1), Guinea (1), and Zimbabwe (1). The two editors, assisted by Dr. Benson Chisanga of the University of Zambia, selected 24 proposals that fit the subthemes of theory, policy, and practice development. Invitations were extended for the submission of a paper for peer review. Eighteen manuscripts were submitted, and of these, 10 were accepted for publication. The peer reviewers represent researchers living and working in Africa, as well as international scholars with experience in Africa or in the substantive area of the manuscript that they reviewed. We thank our international panel of peer reviewers for their critical work. These include Margaret Adamek, Gurid Askland, Ray Bromley, Jean Burke, Ram Cnaan, Kofi Danso, Sondra Doe, Robin Ersing, Robert Feikema, Dorothy Gamble, Johnnie Hamilton-Mason, Sandhya Jossi, Theresa J. Kaijage, Hugo Kamya, Michelle Kelley, Linda Kreitzer, Nathan Linsk, John D. Matthews, Rodreck Muipedziswa, Susan Murty, Denise Nepveux, Durrenda Onolemhemhen, Lois Pierce, Nikku Bala Raju, Michael Reisch, Rosemary Sarri, Beverly C. Sealey, Margaret Sherraden, Chedgzse Smith-McKeever, Cudore Snell, Lee Staples, BenoĆ®t van Caloen, Amy Watson, and Deborah West. The 10 manuscripts are organized into three sections: theory, policy, and practice development. Our intent is to demonstrate that lessons from Africa can be drawn from these three specific areas. At the same time, because no lesson can be fully understood unless it is positioned in its theory, policy, and practice context, these domains are largely intertwined.
Opening the theory section is Indigenous Welfare and Community-Based Social Development: Lessons from African Innovations by Leila Patel, Edwell Kaseke, and James Midgley. Because social development theory is rooted historically in South Africa, the manuscript reflects on the model's development through indigenous innovations. Patel and other scholars affiliated with the Centre for Social Development in Africa have continued to build and refine the model for social work practice in Africa and abroad. Next, Community-Based Juvenile Offender Programs in South Africa: Lessons Learned by Willem Roestenburg and Emmerentie Oliphant offers important learning on the effectiveness of community-based interventions for youth crime, and the complexities of community-based diversion programs in South Africa. The findings suggest the use of a community development perspective that involves parents in services to juvenile offenders. Women, Social Networks, and HIV by Wassie Kebede completes the theory section. Not only are social networks a channel for HIV infection, but also a means of protecting women from the virus. Given the HIV/AIDS pandemic in Ethiopia and Africa in general, these findings are important in emphasizing the theory and practice of social network analysis in social work and social development.
The policy section is comprised of three papers. Replacement Feeding Experiences of HIV-Positive Mothers in Ethiopia by Bog...
