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Debunking misconceptions about elite education

As I sit down to pen this piece, I am acutely aware of the enormity of this task. You see, persuading Tanzanians to embrace elite education is akin to telling Muslims to eat haram, or die-hard Walokole to drink alcohol.

I was, therefore, not surprised to deal with all sorts of naysayers. But, despite the doubts and scepticism, we cannot afford to give up. The future of Tanzania hinges on the success of this initiative.
Last time, I argued that elite education is not just necessary but essential for progress. I proposed that we need to identify the brightest minds in the country, provide them with the tools they need to succeed, and incentivise them to tackle our most pressing issues. My argument rested on two fundamental principles.

First, investing in quality education is far more effective than focusing on quantity, and second, the government’s efforts to raise education standards are not enough to address the country’s needs.

We are simply spreading our resources too thin.
The elite education solution requires us to make two policy decisions. Firstly, we must increase the number of special schools.

At present, the contribution of fewer than ten such schools to the pool of top performers is minuscule. Therefore, we must aim to have at least one special school in every district. Secondly, we need to launch special tertiary-level institutions that will cater to the needs of high-achieving students. Most of our existing universities often leave talented students disillusioned.

Therefore, we need special universities or special units within existing universities that will provide world-class education to enable students to reach their full potential and become globally competitive.


In the mid-1970s, two scientists from Hebrew University proposed the hyper-elitist Talpiot programme to the Israeli army. The idea was simple – take a handful of the most talented students and give them the most intensive technology training.

The students were trained to become mission-oriented leaders and problem solvers by studying more in less time. Less than 0.5 percent of high schoolers are admitted.

The outcome has been the creation of Israel as a startup nation, with highly sophisticated graduates from Talpiot catalysing its growth.
Therefore, it should come as no surprise that some of the most advanced countries have highly selective and intensive educational systems. These programmes, such as Talpiot in Israel, Sky Institutions in South Korea, IITs and IISs in India, Grandes Écoles in France and Ivy League and Oxbridge Universities in the US and UK, respectively, are known for their ability to produce highly skilled graduates who have catalysed innovation and entrepreneurship in their nations.


Our critics have no problem with excellence, but they daydream of a more egalitarian way of achieving it. Let us examine three of their objections here.


The first objection is that elite education perpetuates inequality by only being available to a small segment of the population. However, given the current state of affairs in Tanzania, where, for instance, only two percent of secondary students get As, the vast majority are already being left behind.

The elite education solution doesn’t propose to erect barriers to keep others out. It simply proposes to invest in those who excel to make them better.

With time, evidence shows, they will pull others forward. Hence, this is a more inclusive solution than the status quo.
The second objection is related to the selection process. Critics question how we can pick the best candidates.

While there are schools that produce students with top grades in all subjects, critics argue that prioritising these students would perpetuate privilege.

However, this argument is flawed. Once we start to entertain the idea that national results are subjective, we are already in trouble. If we cannot trust national exams to provide an objective standard for measuring proficiency, what do we have then? We should strive to equalise opportunities, not results.

That said, one can use matriculation exams that combine academic achievement and other measures of potential such as creativity, leadership and community service to improve inclusivity.


The third objection is that the focus on elite education may result in brain drain as graduates seek opportunities outside of Tanzania. Personally, I am counting on that.

The so-called brain drain is often brain gain. This is what China’s Deng Xiaoping realised and encouraged Chinese students to study abroad, resulting in over a million leaving China in 30 years.

Three-quarters returned home and those who stayed abroad continue to fuel China’s growth. Brain drain is a very archaic concept.
In six decades, Africa has paid a high price for ideological thinking, but the elite education policy is the epitome of pragmatism. It shows that we understand that “equal opportunities” does not imply “equal outcomes”.

Hence, we choose to produce a large pool of exceptional graduates who can serve our nation appropriately. If they go abroad, they can bring back invaluable skills, knowledge and capital.

If they stay, we can place them in strategic positions to tackle our challenges. Either way, we win.
Next time, I will review how elite education can play out at the university level in Tanzania.