Degrees Must Build Nations, Not Feed Egos: A Call for Practical Education in South Africa

South Africa does not need another generation of graduates who can only analyze its problems. It needs a generation brave enough to solve them. This is the urgent message from Burkina Faso's President Captain Ibrahim Traoré, whose recent call to replace traditional theses with practical projects has sparked a necessary debate across the continent.

Traoré's words were blunt: 'We will no longer support long essays. If you are an engineering student, for your thesis, you must manufacture, copy or build something.' The reaction was predictable. Critics dismissed him. Some laughed. Others rushed to defend the status quo, arguing that Africa should leave innovation to the West.

But perhaps that is exactly the problem. We have become so accustomed to defending the way things have always been that we rarely ask whether those things are actually working. For Black South Africans, this is not an abstract question. It is a matter of survival in a country where the legacy of apartheid and colonialism still determines who gets access to opportunity.

When Did Education Become About Proving What We Know Instead of What We Can Do?

Every year, our universities produce thousands of graduates. We celebrate distinctions. We applaud qualifications. We fill social media with graduation gowns and captions declaring that 'education is the key.' Yet South Africa remains one of the most unequal societies in the world. Unemployment ravages our communities. Municipalities collapse. Schools fail millions of children. Hospitals are overwhelmed. Infrastructure crumbles.

If education is supposed to prepare us to solve society's greatest challenges, then why do those challenges only grow? Perhaps because somewhere along the way, we confused education with certification. The degree became the destination instead of the beginning.

This is not an attack on research. Essays matter. Research matters. Every major scientific breakthrough began with someone asking difficult questions. But education cannot end there. After years of lectures and dissertations, the question should no longer be: 'What did you write?' It should be: 'What did you build? Whose life is better because of what you learned?'

Imagine an Education System That Serves the People

Imagine if every qualification in South Africa required students to leave behind something that improved society. Law students providing legal assistance to underserved communities. Education students developing literacy programmes that transform struggling schools. Journalism students publishing investigative stories that expose corruption. Business students launching functioning enterprises. Agriculture students creating practical solutions for food insecurity. IT students designing systems that improve municipal service delivery. Architecture and engineering students building affordable housing and safer public spaces.

This is not a utopian dream. It is a practical vision rooted in the belief that education must serve the people, not just the individual. One of the greatest tragedies of our system is that it has taught young people to look everywhere for answers except within themselves. Indigenous Knowledge Systems remain one of Africa's most underutilised resources, not because they lack value, but because we have failed to treat them as engines of innovation.

Practical Learning as a Tool for Decolonisation

Practical learning offers a way to change that. It allows students to draw from generations of African knowledge and combine it with modern science to solve today's challenges, from food insecurity and climate resilience to healthcare and sustainable development. That is how we build an education system that is not only globally competitive, but authentically and unapologetically African.

With this shift, education becomes more than a personal achievement. It becomes a meaningful national investment. The truth is, South Africa does not suffer from a shortage of graduates. We produce thousands of intelligent, ambitious young people every year. What we suffer from is a shortage of systems that consistently transform that potential into solutions.

Are We Producing Problem-Solvers or Just Qualification-Holders?

We have become incredibly good at producing qualifications. But are we producing problem-solvers? The measure of education cannot simply be whether someone passes an examination. It must also be whether that education leaves a meaningful mark on the society that paid for it, invested in it, and desperately needs it.

Too many graduates leave university believing that their only responsibility is to find employment. What if we taught them that their responsibility was also to create opportunity? To solve problems. To build institutions. To strengthen communities. To innovate. To leave South Africa better than they found it.

That is the kind of education that builds nations. That is the kind of education that transforms economies. And perhaps that is why Traoré's comments have resonated with so many Africans. Not because people suddenly oppose essays, but because they are tired of watching education become an end in itself while the problems outside university gates continue to multiply.

What Will History Remember: What You Wrote or What You Built?

South Africa cannot lecture its way out of unemployment. It cannot theorise its way out of inequality. It cannot dissuade its way out of poverty. At some point, what we know must become what we do. Because the true purpose of education was never simply to produce graduates. It was to produce people capable of rebuilding a country.

Perhaps every university should ask one final question before handing over a qualification: 'When history looks back on your education, will it remember what you wrote... or what you built?' Because South Africa doesn't need another generation of people qualified to analyse its problems. It needs a generation courageous enough to solve them.

This article is adapted from Tswelopele Makoe's original piece published by IOL. The views expressed are the author's own.