Why 2018 was hard for public universities

Picture this: Your hostel is something out of a horror show. Bare electrical wires are death traps. Your roommate has reduced the only study table in your room to a make-up table. If you are male, he uses it to take to pieces phones and laptops. That is his full-time job. He calls himself a part-time student and lives by the mantra: “My schooling is delaying my education.” It does not help that every girl drools at his basic skills off YouTube.


Imagine this: The only meal options you have will either have you running to the toilet clutching your belly, admitted in hospital or your pocket weeping from how expensive they are. 
This you supplement with a jug of keg shared among friends because that is the only way you will escape the harsh reality that is being a student in these tough times. No, you cannot cook. Should you be found cooking, you risk having to meet the university senate; a board comprised of old men making decisions for the youth. 

Visualize this: Every time you fight for your rights and have a peaceful demonstration, security forces are unleashed on you. After that, you are sent home and asked to all come with money that amounts to millions to replace a few windows panes broken by the security forces. 

While that is happening, you have to deal with the headache that is missing marks and resist because the school did not pay lecturers on time, who then resorted to disappearing with your marks. No, they do not care that you are collateral damage. You are just another casualty of the tragic accident that is higher education.

Seven years later, because a four-year degree is a myth, you graduate. That is when you realize that that degree you toiled after, spent sleepless nights in the library because of, is not accredited. Of course they never told you that. How could have you known when a decision was made years ago, based on your results and not your interests. As you struggle with that back and forth between your university and regulatory bodies, you have to deal with prospective employers who would rather have you starve than employ you for your skills because, “We don’t like dealing with students from public universities”.