
What Exactly are We Accelerating?
The African Union has made headlines with the Nouakchott Declaration, marking the launch of the Decade of Education beginning from this year, 2025–2034 – a ‘Decade of Accelerated Action for the Transformation of Education and Skills Development’. The announcement was bold, backed by concrete commitments: 4–7% of national GDPs to be allocated to education, free and compulsory public schooling across member states, and a renewed continental push for skills development.
It was historic. It was necessary. But hold on — what exactly are we accelerating?
Because if we’re about to pump billions more into a flawed system, all we’re doing is scaling failure! In our rush to lay bricks, train teachers, and print new syllabi, one fundamental question is dangerously overlooked:
What is school even meant for? Here’s the awkward truth: if Africa does not radically redefine the purpose of education itself, this so-called decade will become just ten more years of mass-producing irrelevance – another wasted effort.
The Education of Africa’s Great Civilizations
Long before “education reform” became a donor agenda item, Africa was already home to some of the most advanced learning systems the world had ever seen. No, they didn’t have chalkboards or transcripts. They had something far more powerful called “civilizational intelligence”.
How did ancient Egypt build pyramids with mathematical precision still studied by NASA engineers today? How did Timbuktu become a global epicenter of literature, astronomy, theology, and medicine—home to one of the world’s first universities, the University of Sankore, with thousands of manuscripts still surviving in the desert sands?
How did the Kingdom of Kush master iron smelting? How did the Igbo communities of Eastern Nigeria, centuries before colonial contact, develop intricate governance systems with checks and balances, thriving trade networks stretching across the Sahel, and astonishing technological craftsmanship like the Nsude pyramids in Udi, which resemble the step pyramids of Nubia? How did the Igbo Ukwu civilization, as far back as the 9th century, produce bronze and copper artifacts of such advanced metallurgy that Western archaeologists were stunned, unable to explain how such sophistication emerged “without European influence”?
These weren’t accidents. They were the fruit of indigenous education systems that prioritized mastery, discovery, innovation, and spiritual depth—not compliance to colonial-era syllabi.
This was education not as curriculum, but as culture.
It was practical, not theoretical. It was intergenerational, not age-locked. It was rooted in relevance, not memorization.
And here’s the punchline: these civilizations didn’t just survive. They thrived.
They built cities, traded across continents, charted the stars, and governed vast societies without needing Western degrees.
A Question Long Buried
Why did we abandon the model that already worked?
To answer that, we must confront a question so foundational it has almost become invisible:
What exactly is a school for?
This isn’t just an academic debate but a civilizational reckoning. Because what we now call “school” is not a neutral invention. It has a history. It has a purpose. And most Africans have never been told the truth about it.
Before the colonial era, African learning systems were about mastery, identity, and contribution. Knowledge wasn’t memorized—it was mastered. Skills were not crammed for exams—they were lived. Elders mentored youth. Communities evaluated growth. And values were as important as vocabulary.
But that entire ecosystem was uprooted. The current education system is not broken. It does exactly what it was designed to do. Surprised? Let’s go deeper.
The Imported Operating System
Around 200 years ago, in Prussia, government leaders—reeling from a devastating military defeat by Napoleon—decided to create an educational model to produce obedient, disciplined, uniform soldiers—not thinkers, not dreamers. The result was the first modern public school system. What did they build?
Specialized Buildings and Siloed Classrooms. Certified teachers. Standardized curriculum. Extended Academic Calendars. Emphasis on Memorization and Compliance. De-emphasizing of Higher-Order Skills. Standardized Instructions.
Sounds familiar right? It wasn’t built to spark innovation. It was built to train soldiers and later, produce compliant workers for the industrial revolution.
Africa inherited this model by force—and we’ve been running it ever since, barely questioning its alignment with our realities or goals. A system meant to prepare glorified clerks and obedient factory workers is now the backbone of African development strategy which will now drive the African Union’s Decade of Education (2025–2034). So, we must ask again, urgently and without sentiment: Is this the same system African nations want to fund with billions for accelerated growth? Have they asked what a school is really for—and who it truly serve?
If we want the AU’s Decade of Education to succeed, we must begin not by asking how to educate more Africans—but why, for what purpose, and toward what kind of civilization.
The Uncomfortable Paradox
Recently, I asked hundreds of universities and polytechnic students across West Africa a simple question: Why did you decide to go to a university? Over 95% gave different words for the same truth: “So, I can graduate, get a job, take care of my family.” — “So, people won’t say I’m uneducated.” — “So, I can acquire knowledge for my career.” Money. Information. Social standing! That’s what they hoped education would deliver.
But here’s the brutal reality:
According to the World Bank, 78% of African graduates are unemployable in a tech-driven economy — not just unemployed, but lacking the knowledge to earn or create. Meaning those who invested years and family savings in education were sold an illusion. Meaning Africa’s classrooms gave them false hope, drained their pockets, and handed them certificates that can’t even unlock doors. So today you find African graduates with engineering or science degrees driving Keke and Okada in Nigeria and Liberia, selling recharge cards in South Africa, riding Bodas in Kenya, or trotro in Ghana. Many join the tragic exodus to the UK, Saudi Arabia, or Qatar — only to end up wiping bumbums, scrubbing floors, or manning security posts.
So again, we ask: what exactly will the African Union be accelerating?
A Word to the African Union
Dear leaders: thank you for thinking about Africa’s future. But if this Decade of Education only strengthens outdated education models, it will fail, expensively! This is the moment to ask hard questions before writing big checks. What exactly are we accelerating? if it is still schools that reward memorization over curiosity, if it is still syllabi that prepare clerks for offices that no longer exist, if it is still teachers who kill the spark of inquiry to uphold a curriculum from Prussia’s 1800s — then this will not be a decade of progress. You have called this the Decade of Education. Let history not call it the Decade of Delusion.
Where Africa Truly Needs Educational Investment
We must move from an enrollment obsession to an outcome revolution.
Build decentralized knowledge ecosystems — not just classrooms. Create purpose-driven hubs that blend systems thinking, regenerative design, ethical leadership, digital fluency, delivered through peer-to-peer models, localized mentorship, and project-based learning that tackles real community problems. Invest in apprenticeship networks and tech-driven micro-learning, where learning happens at the pace of change, validated by community impact, not paper credentials. Fund immersive tools — from virtual & augmented reality to AI-assisted labs — that make African youth creators, not just consumers of knowledge. Use smart micro-credentials that recognize discrete skills through blockchain-backed proof of mastery, demolishing the all-or-nothing degree bottleneck. Measure success not by enrollment stats, but by how many young people build solutions that communities trust and adopt.
And to Educators, Parents, and Youth
To educators: Stop lecturing. Start guiding. Your job is to foster ethical reasoning, complex problem-solving, and collaboration under uncertainty. To parents: Demand more than certificates. Demand proof of mastery. Challenge your children not on grades, but on how they apply themselves to solve real issues. To Africa’s youth: Before you chase a degree, pause. Discover your deepest purpose — what moves you, angers you, excites you. Then educate yourself relentlessly in that direction. Education without direction is a trap. Don’t let “school” be your only school. The world’s greatest libraries and laboratories now fit in your pocket. Use them.
Before the Window Closes
Africa does not need to accelerate faster into irrelevance this decade.
It needs to stop. Question. Redesign. Then build systems that make our children not just employable, but indispensable to the future of humanity. That is the only education worth accelerating.
Emmanuel Ezeoka is an entrepreneur and strategic policy futurist focused on systemic transformation, particularly through the Global Africa Agenda. With deep experience in international development, technology, infrastructure and future city design, Ezeoka leads the charge for a private-sector-driven transformation for the development of holistic, empowered ecosystems. Committed to global development equity, he writes from Abuja, Nigeria. Contact: [email protected]