JAMILA’S MEMO: Not their future, please!

The leadership of this country owes Kenyans answers. Serious answers. Because you don’t play games with the education of a nation. Tusilete mchezo kwa elimu.

In recent days, we’ve seen disturbing images of at least 42 public schools, in Tharaka Nithi operating in utterly embarrassing conditions. Mud-walled classrooms. Collapsing roofs. Children learning on bare floors. And this is 2025.

Let’s talk about capitation — or rather, the confusion around it. Schools across the country are receiving less money per student. That’s a fact. The capitation allocation has dropped, and no one is giving clear, honest answers about why. School heads are pleading. Parents are stressed. Learners are worried. And in universities and colleges, the uncertainty is even worse.

The new higher education funding model was meant to give hope. Instead, it’s created more questions than answers. Students aren’t sure whether they will get to study. Institutions aren’t sure what to expect. And parents are left navigating a maze without a map. This is not how a country secures its future.

Let’s be honest. The future of this country is not some gift we generously bestow on the next generation. It is their right. Whether we like it or not, they will inherit it — and they will inherit the consequences of our decisions, or our negligence.

The children sitting on stones in open-air classrooms today are the ones who will sit in boardrooms tomorrow. The students stressed because they haven’t received funding — are the ones who will be our doctors, our lawyers, our MPs, our CSs.

And the irony? Those currently in power — the Cabinet Secretaries, the Directors of Education, the senior technocrats — will all be replaced. Not because of their kindness. Not even because of public demand. But because time doesn’t negotiate.

I speak of this inevitable replacement because there’s a dangerous trend we’re seeing: a generation of leaders who act as if they can play God with the fate of future generations. Decisions are made recklessly. Money disappears mysteriously. Policies are drafted without proper planning. And when questioned, the answers are vague — if they come at all.

Education is not a favour. It’s a foundation. When funding becomes uncertain, when learning conditions remain appalling, when the system is left to drift — then it’s not just the students who suffer. It’s the nation that crumbles.

It’s time for the leadership to stop pretending that the future is optional. It’s not. And if they can’t protect it, then at the very least, they should not sabotage it.