A gentleman who holds a university degree known as “Bachola of MBA” has recently shared his curriculum vitae with me. He says that he is a guru in strategic business management. He is also an outstanding accountant. He would like me to help him get a job, anywhere where his training and experience could be useful.
But this Bachola of MBA thing? What is it? They had not introduced that one when I did my bachelor stuff at the University of Nairobi, more than a generation ago. Or, maybe, it is just one of those things from Jamaica, where my acquaintance says he studied. Maybe “Bachelor” has only been written in Jamaican creole or patois? In which case there must be a degree that translates into English as 'Bachelor of Master of Business Administration'?
The Commission for University Education (CUE) may have to help us here. They could look at this gentleman’s papers and speak to their authenticity and validity in Kenya. But do we seem to have a bigger assignment here, perhaps far bigger than CUE alone could hope to successfully undertake? I have seen puzzling images of members of Kenya’s political elite, preening and gawking awkwardly. They are clad in gaudy university graduation gear. They purport to be recipients of doctor of philosophy degrees, “honaris causa.” Both CUE and the university they claim to have graduated from have disowned the awards. This is to say that it was all a sham.
I struggle to understand why people lie about academic credentials and other professional qualifications that they do not have. For, when you don’t have these qualifications, you just don’t have them. It does not matter that some fellow will decorate you, dress you up in glorified regalia and pronounce you to be the holder of a “Bachelor of MBA” and that kind of abracadabra. You don’t have it, my brother. The only way to have a “Bachelor of MBA” is to go out and work for it.
Traditionally, however, universities have singled out persons who have made outstanding contributions to humankind, or in one field or the other. They crave association with that kind of individual. Accordingly, they may offer such a person an honorary doctorate. For, an honorary degree is the highest recognition of distinguished contribution to a field, and even to humankind generally. It is not to be fooled about in a cursory and scurrilous manner by men and women of average ethical standing.
For these reasons, a recipient of an honorary degree enjoys a waiver of the usual degree requirements. Yet, they have indeed worked meritoriously in some fields. They merit the honour of the conferment. What are we to say, however, when people begin masquerading under academic gowns in some nondescript locations, only to materialise from them, calling themselves doctors and engineers? Such are the characters that the French playwright Moliere (1616–1673) caricatured in his play, 'The Imaginary Invalid'. A person who enjoys imagining himself to be sick all the time is made a doctor so that he can treat himself.
A whole nation that allows this kind of mischief in its midst risks being shunned by the global academic and professional communities. Even a joke can only be carried so far, and not beyond. It is fine to tease some MP with the thought that he is an engineer, even when the whole world knows that he is not one. But to attempt to formalise this joke with an actual conferment of a degree is to wade into dangerous space. You invite genuine qualifications from your country into question and ridicule.
The persons behind such academic sham and shame ought to be behind bars. So, too, should be others from recognised universities, who may have connived to give academic degrees to people who have neither studied nor been examined and qualified for the degrees they purport to hold. Tales abound today, of such quacks and dilettantes who only materialise on graduation day, to the surprise of other graduands, to the effect, “So this person has also been studying for this degree?”
Finally, when you have received a legitimate honorary degree, you restrict it to the activities of the conferring institution and its environs. You do not flaunt it on screaming billboards in the streets of Kiambu and Bungoma towns. You avoid introducing yourself as “Dr Such and Such.” It is enough to tell people your name without unleashing academic and professional panegyrics. Let people recognise you if they will. You will not get malaria just because people do not know about your credentials.
Dr Muluka is a strategic communications adviser. www.barrackmuluka.co.ke
