Opinion: Why most slum youths drop out of high school

Mathare slums in Nairobi

Entrepreneurship and education have long been the two pillars on which Kenya’s economy has flourished. However, in most informal settlements, there is emerging a dangerous trend among the insta-generation.

The lure of making quick money is overshadowing the wisdom of investing in a good education.

The age-old adage that education is the key to success is getting lost as most graduates realise there aren’t enough office jobs for everyone.

But what’s happening among high school students from the ghettos and slums who should be dreaming of joining university?

Definitely, free primary education has improved their lot, but a review of education data from 2016 showed that three in five students who enrolled in Class One in 2004 never made it to their KCSE exams.

Further, educational opportunities look even worse if you are a student in marginalised areas. In Samburu, Turkana and Wajir counties for instance, primary pupils share science and mathematics books.

In urban slums, being street smart, rather than book smart, is a necessary route for those who drop out of school due to lack of fees. For most of youths in slums, Kenya teaches them that class is not the way to beat poverty.

The slum culture encourages young people to focus their attention on the here and now rather than investing in the future.

Some Kenyan celebrities flash their lavish lifestyle off the back of a commercial and social environment not created by me and my peers.

Youths in the ghetto wake up to hustle on the streets surrounded by a barrage of images of flashy cars and aspirational billboard ads. In anxiety-ridden, knee-jerk response youths clutch on to any job to make ends meet. But dropping out of school can mean falling off the edge of society.

t feels more competitive to make a life on the crowded urban streets than studying in class. From the instant coffee we drink in the morning to instant everything at the palm of our hands, we are being told to achieve faster than ever before. Is it any wonder we frown when society rewards those that take the shortcut?

When some graduates became famous for holding up signs on busy highways begging for jobs from Kenya’s political and corporate elite it was a sign of desperation but also determination. They had heard it is who you know – or can meet in the jams on the major highways – not what you know that matters. 

The other lesson that youth have caught onto is that it is the certificate that counts, not what you learn on the way through academia. Kenya’s news of recent years is littered with those who have risen to the top off the back of false exam certificates.

The young learn from the old and many from the ghetto see stories of brazen lying as the ultimate display of street smartness which they should emulate – just don’t get caught. Who would be stupid enough to toil for years in class yet they can forge their way to the top, and then use that wealth to cover up their deception?

Many friends I know do stick with schooling, and many are not taken in by the rush to get rich quick. Most are just trying to get by and make their lives a little better, and we need to listen to those on the verge of throwing away necessary life skills that education gives the young.

Teenagers need to hear that from their parents more than anyone else. It is sad that education was once seen as a family affair. And it was seen as important by the community too, hence the sheng ‘Sare’ which meant those in school uniform did not need to pay matatu fares.

Now, too often parents, especially those in slums are the last to know when their children skip class. We should realise that the classroom has just gotten bigger in this era of social media.