The recent controversy surrounding the employment of teachers ought to bring into focus a far more critical issue about unemployment that goes beyond regurgating data and figures: a system programmed to break those already on their knees.
Almost everyone who has experienced unemployment has the same story to tell about this phase. They will tell you about the everyday scouting of the Internet, the dailies and for opportunities.
They will narrate the rigours of taking note of every opportunity that comes close to their qualifications and revamping their CVs every other time to keep up with the market’s ever-changing demands. They will let you in on the painstaking process of tailoring the same CVs to suit every individual application, researching organisations, studying job descriptions and ensuring they include the relevant ATS keywords before clicking ‘send’.
Then comes the waiting. They will tell you of the anxiety of waiting for a reply, any reply, from recruiters. Of falling back on their faith, fate, luck, anything that may have whatever powers to come through for them. They will reveal how a regret mail is often celebrated because for many, they never really get to know what happens after they send in their applications. Now repeat this a dozen times a week.
It is a tough ‘job’ being a job seeker. It becomes even harder when you realise that it is not just that the jobs are few, but that the path to finding one is already corrupted.
Every year, hundreds of graduates from universities and tertiary institutions enter an already flooded labour market. Very few are lucky enough to get into formal employment soon after graduating. Many others settle in the informal sector doing just about anything to survive as they continue to hope for an opportunity that moves them to the formal side of employment. Statistics may capture them as employed but employment and meaningful employment are not the same thing.
But what happens when the formal processes that citizens are encouraged to use to access public opportunities are undermined by informal arrangements? What happens when they discover that the process they keep participating in is a farce that does not necessarily determine the outcome? What becomes of these Kenyans who keep trying for non-existent openings armed with their qualifications, potential and aspirations?
Granted, the government has continued to come up with programmes and opportunities to address unemployment. But even these require us to ask difficult questions about sustainability.
When the government comes up with internship programmes, for instance, what is the end goal? What happens to these young people after the one year is over? What can be done to transform these internships into genuine pathways to employment and not just holding bays for graduates society has not planned for?
There is a psychological cost to repeatedly having vulnerable job seekers participate in processes we know would lead nowhere. It is wrong to use people already desperate to rubber stamp processes that are nothing but fair while at the same time making them feel like they are not good enough or are not trying hard enough to secure the opportunities they keep pursuing. This is the dehumanising part of unemployment that statistics do not adequately capture.
Despite the ongoing conversation, we must be careful not to demonise networking. A lot of people are where they are today because someone put in a good word for them. Some people still value integrity and professionalism and can be counted on their word. Recommendations are not corruption; they are legitimate ways of opening doors to opportunities for people who are competent. The problem begins when influence is used not to open doors but to circumvent processes and determine who walks through them.
Government institutions, at the end of the day, must remain fair and transparent enough to give every single Kenyan a fair chance at employment. It is the least the state can do. It is not only immoral but cruel to use desperate jobseekers to legitimise a hiring process when decisions have already been made elsewhere.
Ms Wekesa is a development communication specialist
