MY LOST YEAR: ACADEMIC FREEDOM FROM A STUDENT’S PERSPECTIVE

It was the month of February in the year 2011. I had just started my third year as a political Science Student at the University of Malawi-Chancellor College. That was my third public policy Class. The first class had been an introduction, we had learnt about how public policy was the action or inaction of government. 

“This must be the easiest definition in all of my college life” I had thought to myself. 

That first class was not fully spent on the lecture. Most first classes are not. In those first classes we would discuss the timetable. Figure out which classes were colliding, and changing the timetable to match everybody’s timetable. Most people have different timetables in college, if you miss the first lecturer, you might find yourself with clashes. 

The second class had been about what public policy was all about and how it is formulated. It was the books that said a policy can be made through revolutions. My lecturer, being a teacher and knowing that students require further explaining, decided to offer an example. Little did he know that this would become a police matter in a few days. So, in that third class we were all so excited. I do not remember what made us that way. We were very talkative too in that particular class. There is a saying in my country “Mbuzi ikakondwa, amalonda ali pafupi” (when a goat is happy, it means it is about to be bought, and probably slaughtered). Basically it tries to say that if you are too happy, something bad is about to happen to you. On this day, the buyers were indeed very close by. Dr. Chinsinga told us he had been summoned to appear before the inspector general of police.

“What have you said this time sir?” one of us asked jokingly. 

We were also not aware we were to have the experience that would derail all our plans. He did not respond, he just laughed and told us it was probably just some social call.

The next day we woke up as usual, went to class, waited the recommended 15 minutes for our lecturer, a different one, but he never showed. We were later told he had a cough and would not be able to teach. The other lecturers from our department did not give reasons, they merely never showed up for classes. A few days later we learnt that Law lecturers were no longer giving lecturers, then it was the Philosophy department, the economics Department, the sociology department and so on and so forth.

“They say a certain lecturer was summoned by the inspector general who accused him of telling students to rise against the current regime just like in Egypt and Tunisia.” One student told us.

It did not register at that moment that she was talking about our own Dr Chinsinga. We laughed at the statement.

“That’s absurd, the police think a lecturer can tell us to demonstrate? They must think we are very shallow” one of us said.

“Indeed, they think if we wanted to demonstrate, we would need a lecturer to tell us first” a fellow student conquered. And just like that a conversation developed of how this was a disaster and so on.

Rumours continued to spread, some said he had been arrested, others said he had been threatened. It was amidst the rumours that we learnt it was in fact our lecturer who had been summoned.

To be Continued……..

A lot has been said about the academic freedom saga, but no one has paid much attention to how it affected us, the students. It is always, the right to lecture freely that is covered, what about our right to education, how was it affected? What about our goals and plans?
I had it all planned out, by the year 2012,  I would have been out of Chancellor College and would be on to new adventures in life. I'm most of you did too.

This is a call to anyone who would like to share their side of this unfortunate phase in their lives.

Some Truth

Truth is no matter how good I manage to pretend I am ok, being jobless is not fulfilling. Every time I meet an old school mate who is working and I tell them I’m not working, I feel like their face changes. Like all over sudden, a face filled with pity emerges. And how hard I try to convince them it’s not the end of the world. One would think I’m trying to convince myself. Don’t get me wrong, I am not miserable. Not always at least. Nor am I being ungrateful, heaven knows I have my ups. What I’m trying to say is, every time I see someone who has a permanent job, my mind automatically asks that question, “why not me?” and yes I am afraid I might end up being the only one who is unemployed when all the people I know get jobs. So I ask myself, “What do I do wrong?”

I do subscribe to the whole, “do not compare you with everyone else” teachings. But in a world where your success is measured by the failure of the man next to you, do you really want to be the man next to the successful person? So why would I not live in comparison to my neighbor? Why would I bother competing with me when the world is looking at the performance of my neighbor and me? 

I believe it is not just me in this circle of misery, but because, just like me, the rest of the members in this circle put on that fake smile every day, convince themselves tomorrow is another day with beautiful promises. And so we lie to ourselves and to the rest of the world. Most of us human beings are pathological liars.