Department of failed policy

LIKE many others, I have read with deep concern about the closure of the Walter Sisulu University. It is a tragedy that a country whose history is littered with the blood of young people who died for the right to education is still failing to educate its children.

How ironic that an institution named after an icon and located in a province that has produced many struggle heroes is today in tatters, limping from one tragedy to another.

I must admit that this was just a story — until I spoke to affected students on the radio. Their calls came in and I could not accommodate them all. They all had one desperate cry: “Please don’t deny us our education.”

Student Yanga Socikwa said he was “thirsty for an education”. His words were echoed by another student, Nelisa, who asked Nehawu, the National Education, Health and Allied Workers’ Union, “Couldn’t you find another way without compromising our education?” But student Sibulelo blamed management and the government for the crisis and had this message for them: “We want our degrees.” Simnikiwe argued, “We don’t care who is right or wrong. We are feeling hopeless. We want an education.”

And that is all any young person should worry about; getting an education. The students have lost out on eight weeks of lectures as staff down tools over wages. There have been clashes with police. Nehawu is demanding a salary increase of 8% to 10%, while management is offering 4.25%.

The reality is that the university is bankrupt. Workers are doubly aggrieved because, apart from a one-off bonus, they did not get a salary increase in 2011 and have borne the brunt of the university’s precarious financial situation. University management concedes that staff deserve a better increase but cautions: “They need to consider that we are sinking in debt still

Couldn’t you find another way without compromising our education?

and our heads just barely got out of the water.”

There is a litany of other problems facing the institution, including governance, human resources and infrastructure failure. Twenty members at senior and executive management level were fired in 2012 and there is a possibility that criminal charges may be brought against them.

With all these headaches, it is no wonder the university is the worst performing among comprehensive universities in the country. Yet there was a time when, before its merger with the Eastern Cape Technikon and the Border Technikon, the then University of the Transkei was a commanding institution, producing some of the finest doctors, accountants and other professionals. And now its annual strikes, which began shortly after the merger, have dimmed its glorious lineage.

There have been all sorts of attempts to rescue the university, which has been under administration. The question remains, why was the situation allowed to deteriorate to this point?

The Department of Higher Education says it could not intervene because the law prevented it from doing so, but the unions are asking why the department waited until the university collapsed.

Is it time to concede that the 2005 merger has not worked and students have been disadvantaged? The evidence has been there for a long time that cosmetic changes do not solve deep-rooted problems. A new name does not result in a new identity. Walter Sisulu University is not the only case of merged universities battling to get on their feet. The University of Zululand and the Vaal University of Technology are also under administration. Was it a good idea to merge institutions that were under-resourced and serviced largely poor communities? They brought to the merger their individual injuries and deprivation. And it now seems there is no remedy.

The people who continue to pay the heaviest price for this are the students.