When you ask any Kenyan which school they went to, it often leads to an interesting conversation. For people who attended notable schools, schools which may have produced presidents and top CEOs, there is a boastful nature to them. They speak of this place like it was literal heaven on earth. For the rest, a lot of reservation is held in mentioning your village school that only few people would know beyond 3km around it. For both of these people, the school they attended has severely shaped how they view life and most importantly, how they are viewed in life. Typically, national high schools produce some of the most enigmatic know-it-all types. Some people leave these schools with their head on their shoulders intact but for others, the pride of going through a certain national school of repute comes to define their whole existence. Just to put you at ease, this is not a fluff piece describing the 5 personalities of different Kenyan high schools. Here, I seek to explore how our culture has been shaped by education.

Pride and esteem are as old as human beings. Social status often dictates how we move along life. There are certain entertainment joints that only allow a clientele that is so exclusive, the thought of ordinary mwananchi visiting these establishments is unheard of. Most of this status is drawn from material success and quite frankly, which school you attended.

We cherish our education and which schools we attend. It is evident in the reverence we give to national examinations. The government has even tried to do away with this glorification by changing the curriculum but it seems we are already too steeped in the glory of KCPE and KCSE. With the passing or failing of these national exams, comes pre-packaged societal expectations. You pass KCSE examinations, you are expected to start on a path to becoming a lawyer, doctor, an engineer, or another profession in the same caliber. The choice of career is in a very narrow scope. Damn you if you try to pursue any course at the university where the cut off grade is less than an A. If you don’t do so well, society weeps, for you are doomed to hold a lowly job in society. Your best option is to see whether you can make something of those damned artsy courses for people with Cs and Ds.

This is the nature of how education influences our culture. We expect people who went to school to behave a certain way; a more ‘polished’ manner. Literacy is considered important but not as important as carrying the ethos of your alma mater. Do you behave like Minister so and so who also attended the same school you did? Does your success in life live up to the glory of older alumni? Our perceptions of which school you attended shape how we view your background. I mean it is now a running joke that if you went through the British Curriculum in Kenya your family is probably well off. And more so, there are certain universities which embody social economic class differences like no other.

Speaking of universities, they are the last significant stage of schooling before you step out into the world as a young adult. As we have seen before, conversations regarding which universities produce the best employees always come up in the zeitgeist. It is no secret that certain organizations prefer to hire from certain universities. Thank your lucky stars if you even get an interview coming from a university not on the approved list. Employers and HR reps weighing in on this debate state that students from University X are the best because of this and that reason. Or “I wouldn’t hire a graduate from this university because they are always lazy.” And so it happens as we move through life that we come to form cultural stereotypes about our educational upbringing. We associate serious scholarly work with studying law and rocket science from specific universities while our friends studying niche agricultural courses from rural universities have to first jump over the hurdle of answering the question ‘Has your school produced anyone worth noting?’ before being considered for greatness.

We perceive our culture through what the halls of education teach us. 

Kenyans tend to be anti-intellectual. Not because we reject education or intellectualism but because we reject the perceived sense of superiority that comes from professors and intellectuals. We often associate intellect with a false sense of class and success. There is definitely a conversation be had about projecting past traumas, but I digress. While there are many successful people who are truly smart, they may oftentimes still be viewed through the lens of the schools they attended. Any opportunities available to them are attributed first to their association with their school before the possibility of it being a testament to their hard work and dedication is probed.

The culture of material success while not the cause of our views on education, has certainly greatly affected what we value in education. We value good grades, we value reputable schools. Even internationally, scandals have brewed over parents dishing out bribes to ensure that their children get into certain universities. The need to belong and that of prestige makes us go to much lengths to ensure people know and respect our alma mater. It was never just about education, it was also about our culture as well.

We are now a 61 year old country. Our views on education needs a re-evaluation. Is it the pinnacle of success? Should children be burdened with the weight of their parents’ academic success? Is holiday tuition necessary? Such is our education culture that parents bemoan long holidays as they dread their children being home for more than a week, ready to run amok in the neighborhoods. As a society, we have entrusted the shaping of our children almost entirely to the education system, leaning on it to impart values and direction. Yet, while education is indispensable in preparing young minds with the skills to navigate life, we must pause to ask: should it also define the moral and cultural fabric of our nation? The responsibility to instill integrity, compassion, and a sense of purpose belongs to all of us, not just educators. Perhaps it’s time we reclaim that role, guiding our children not just toward success, but toward wisdom and humanity.