A Congo reality: Education corrupted and enslaved

"I am building a house."

"I need new shoes."

"My family is traveling."

These are the kind of announcements that Congo's university professors make at the beginning of their classes. It would be one thing if such announcements were efforts to build relationships with students through the sharing of appropriate, personal information. These announcements, instead, are indicators of the kind of payment teachers expect from their students--that they DO expect payment.

Education in Congo has been corrupted and remains enslaved to power and the elite. This was a consistent message that I heard from the faculty, staff, and students of UCBC. David Kasali speaks of science (by which he means academic learning and knowledge) and the academy as "under lock and key." Be clear, we are not talking about the rich knowledge of society, family, and culture--that knowledge shared over the cooking fire, in the care of family and community elders. We're talking about the learning and knowledge within the academy, within the professions, within the structures of school and academia. The knowledge that could transform, but that maintains the status quo in a short-sighted effort to protect personal power. And these are the attitudes, contexts, and actions that UCBC is committed to transforming.

So, you  may wonder, "What does a corrupt system of education look like? What does it mean?" The Congolese faculty at UCBC--all of whom have managed to survive that system and are dedicated to a radically different approach and understanding of knowledge--shared their assessment and experiences during one of our faculty development sessions.

"Teachers hope to see students fail." In the Congolese education system, one's salary depends upon maintaining an imbalance between those who know and those who don't, between teacher and student, between personal power and community powerlessness. The more students per teacher, the more salary the teacher can excise, through basic fees and various bribes and "corruption fees." Because university professors are eager to keep their ranks small, they thwart rather than encourage graduate students working for their doctorates by delaying reading papers or exams and demanding fees for their services. Across the university system, and presumably in the secondary system, if you want to be assured to pass, then expect to pay in money or services. If you want your exam read, then pay. Female students are pressured to pay with their bodies. Want to make a point to your students about who is (or isn't) in control? Toss the papers across the desk and declare, "I will read the ones that land on the desks, and ignore the ones that fall on the floor." Yes, that is a true story.

"Students have expectations to fail, so they give less effort." A teacher that wants to see a student fail will look to trip and confuse students won't be concerned whether students understand the material or care to help students develop competence, let alone excellence. A student that knows her or his chances of passing, let alone excelling (which, most likely, is not a shared goal or expectation) are limited will do only what is necessary to pass. They pay the bribes. They learn to copy and cheat. The goal is to pass the class, not to learn. In general, then, once students are accepted into university, their motivation flags. And, of course, the teachers and their methods do nothing to change that.

"Students do not pay attention to their own skills." This translates in a couple of ways. For one thing, university students choose to study in particular "faculties" (what the U.S. systems calls, "departments" or "majors") based on available jobs or on what is available to study at that university. A students' imagination about her or his future is shuttered to possibilities. This is compounded by the fact that secondary schools in Congo tend to focus on particular faculties. This school may focus on applied sciences. Another on history and geography. You go to the school closest to where you live, not to the school that meets your interest areas or abilities. So from secondary school on, Congolese students are "tracked," not according to ability or interest, but according to availability.

A first-hand experience: During my first week at UCBC, a preparatory student, Prince, wanted to talk with me about his "psychological problem." Prince explained that he was having trouble in his studies. That he could read and read, study and study, but not learn the material. Then he said something that clued me in. "I don't have this trouble with my maths or physics."

Prince was noticeably relieved when I explained that we all have certain subjects we find easier or harder than others. That we have different strengths. That our talents and brains and abilities are different. What a surprise to me (and to him) that here, as a beginning college student, was the first time anyone had explained this concept of different abilities to him.

So, by their own assessment or through the system, students are pushed to study what is personally expeditious. They do not know how to choose their faculty/major based on their own aptitude or interest. In fact, they do not even know where their aptitudes lie.

"There is a lack of culture of reading and research in the education system." In very practical terms, there are no books. There are no libraries. What books exist are in the hands of the professors. And guess how eager they are to share? The UCBC Congolese teachers said on several occasions, "In secondary school you copy your teacher's notes from the blackboard. In university you take dictation. Teachers lecture from their syllabus, and you copy everything down. That's what you study," In fact, syllabus in Congo is the class content. Of course, if you have money, you can buy the syllabus (which saves your pencils and your writing hand, and buys another bag of cement for the teacher's new house). And of course, assessing students' learning is all about seeing if they can recite back all that the teacher has said.

"Students lack belief in what is learned. There is no transformation in their thinking." Hmmm...that's not a hard one to understand, is it? In my words, "Students don't trust their teachers or their education." And in David Kasali's words, "Science is locked away." And if there is no transformation in thinking, then where is the understanding? Where is the imagination?

Ah...there is so much more to share. But let me close with two things.

1. A corrupted and enslaved education system contributes to "the permanent economic crisis." It also contributes to the systemic corruption that enslaves the country. We Americans who listened to this conversation of the UCBC Congolese faculty were incredulous as they names these challenges. "How can it be so?" It was Bora, one of the UCBC communications professors, who said, "This is a whole system. This thinking affects everything in this country."

2. This is precisely why the work of CI-UCBC is so vital. CI-UCBC is about transforming its students, transforming their thinking by teaching and living and building relationships in a radically different way, so that they can lead in the transformation of their country. David Kasali teaches a course to preparatory students called, "DRC Realities." One of his goals in the course is, he says, "To make students angry." The course is about helping students understand the history of their country and also opening up their eyes to the reality that as individuals they have responsibility. As Congolese, they cannot continue to see and live as victims of their history--a very long history of abuse and corruption. That change depends on them. But, as he said to me just last week, "You can only change what you understand."