University of Fort Hare. Photo: Supplied
When Professor Sakhela Buhlungu took the position of vice-chancellor at the University of Fort Hare in January 2017, the mood around the institution and the sector at the time was quite gloomy. Fort Hare was a hopeless institution.
It was undergoing an academic, financial and structural crisis. Every newspaper article and every institutional report issued by the different organs of the state painted a horrifying picture of it.
Not only was it overwhelmed by organised local crime syndicates around its procurement systems, but its teaching, research and human resources practices were also in shambles.
A report commissioned by the department of higher education and training minister regarding Fort Hare, published on 3 October 2019 by two independent assessors, Professor Chris Brink and Professor Louis Molamu, who also worked with a financial expert, Bulelani Mahlangu, revealed the following damning findings — among many:
- Academics were making personal earnings from research subsidies that were meant to be reinvested back into the institution. For example, when a student completes a master’s degree at Fort Hare, the supervisor received R20 000. For a doctorate — R60 000. These amounts did not get paid to their research accounts. They were being paid straight to their personal bank accounts.
- Procurement structures and the departments and personnel responsible for financial management were open-ended and vulnerable to political interference and manipulation. A revelation made by multinational professional services firm EY on Fort Hare, which is cited in this report, categorised the financial architecture of the university as being “rudimentary” — the lowest possible rating in the governance of financial systems.
- Administrative management systems at the level of the registrar and human resources were a mess. The report says that crucial committees of the university such as the senate did not have an up-to-date tracking system of simple things such as minutes and records — some policies were outdated or missing or did not exist — and admission and graduation lists were typed out manually in personal computers of staff, to the extent that some names of graduates were getting added on the list on the last minute without the knowledge of senate.
- The above point suggests that some qualifications in the institution were being awarded to people who did not write any examinations, and admission to academic programmes was being granted to people who did not qualify at all.
Professor Sakhela Buhlungu. Photo: Supplied
In essence, the institution was on its knees, and it was losing its legitimacy as a capable body that can produce credible talent. Even worse, its graduates were also questionable in the eyes of the market. Private donors were hesitant to invest in the institution, and so it relied on limited and conditional support from provincial and national state networks to survive emergencies.
This is an institution that Buhlungu inherited in January 2017, and believe me, Fort Hare is but just one example of many rural universities in our country that are also undergoing the exact same predicament today.
Buhlungu then began the long difficult journey of fixing the institution. Listening to his inaugural address back in 2017, one could get a sense that he saw the task ahead of him as a historical mission whose time had come.
Fort Hare was once a towering asset of the highest standards of African intellectual traditions throughout the 20th century, and he felt like it needed to be rescued from the black hole it was sinking into since the beginning of these last two decades.
He came in as an experienced executive leader in the higher education sector — a sociology professor who previously served as dean of the humanities faculty at the University of Cape Town. In addition, his turf of research was located on the left, and he had a long track record of progressive activism in the liberation struggle. These credentials gave him the necessary footprint and legitimacy to lead this once prestigious institution of black working-class scholarship from the Eastern Cape region.
He intended to make Fort Hare become an institution that houses the most excellent class of students and professors who can compete with anyone around the globe and produce science that will serve our region and the world. This world-class science, he said, must be rooted in our unique African philosophies, languages, histories and innovations.
To make this bold vision possible, Buhlungu knew that he had to fix the institution from within first. The virus of poor governance, low standards, corruption and “taking short-cuts” that had infected the institutional culture of the place for so long, had to come to an end immediately.
When he began to drive this mission in practical terms, the gas main exploded and all of us watching from a distance started to see the full extent of the crisis.
During his first five years at the helm of Fort Hare, we saw academic and financial systems being tightened. Standards began to elevate. Policies and rules were now being enforced. New talent was being recruited. Suspensions and terminations were being effected.
Politicians and student leaders found themselves unable to do as they please in the institution.
In other words, Fort Hare was being pulled back to being a normal functioning university with proper checks and balances. The institution was being restored back to its core mandate and purpose — the production of knowledge to service humanity.
Black education was being repositioned back to its place.
For these efforts, Buhlungu was reappointed again in January 2022 by the council of Fort Hare to serve another five-year term as vice-chancellor until December 2026.
But many people close to him and his staff at Fort Hare, those who are fully committed to the project, have commented countless times that the work of fixing an institution like Fort Hare is not easy. It is tiring, toxic, depressing and life-threatening.
The institutional culture of the place does not allow one to breathe or do good. That is why many colleagues at Fort Hare have resigned and left. Others are living on medication. Others have been murdered.
Those who are working elsewhere in higher education do not wish to go to Fort Hare or any other similar rural university in the sector to protect their mental health and their lives.
There is no doubt that Buhlungu and his family are going through these issues. He is human after all. The situation is tough. Even if he decides to resign, the next person that the council will appoint will be required to spearhead the exact same task that Buhlungu and his staff are busy with. There is just no other way out of this. It must be done. Fort Hare must be fixed — right now — for the sake of the future of young people from the Eastern Cape who come from extremely difficult conditions of life.
Black education and our public institutions must be fixed and rebuilt in our lifetime.
But most importantly, as a society, we need to think deeply about the type of government we now require to seriously end corruption and the mismanagement of our public institutions. This disease is a thief of every single fibre of our society. It has now infiltrated our institutions of knowledge. It is taking innocent lives. It is threatening our remaining credible leaders in higher education. It has the potential to rob us of the future we deserve.
We need to be angrier as citizens and take back control of our nation. We sacrificed so much in the liberation struggle to allow this cancer to overwhelm us. The generational task of fixing black education is not supposed to come at such a high price.
May the soul of Mboneli Vesele rest in peace. Buhlungu’s bodyguard was assassinated on 6 January, outside the vice-chancellor’s official residence.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the Mail & Guardian.