Op-ed, Social and Economic Justice

The Exam Sorts Talent. But Does It Build a Nation?

Tanzania has resources, ambition, and a young population. But is its education system preparing people for the future—or just sorting them for the past?

Husnah Mad-hy

June 9, 2026

subscribe to our newsletter!

In May 2026, over 133,000 students across Mainland Tanzania and Zanzibar sat for the Form 6 Advanced Certificate of Secondary Education Examination (ACSEE). As always, discussions surrounding the examinations focused on integrity, performance and university admissions.

But often implied within these conversations is something much bigger: that these examinations will somehow determine Tanzania’s future competitiveness and the quality of its workforce.

But can an examination really do that? Like all examinations, ACSEE sorts talent. It does not create it. Every education system is educating for something. There is always a goal. There is always an idea of the future behind it. So what exactly are we educating for, in Tanzania?

Right now, Tanzania stands at a juncture of change. Industrialisation remains a national ambition. Artificial intelligence is slowly sweeping across sectors and becoming increasingly necessary in the 21st century.

Rare earths, gold, uranium, potential oil discoveries, advanced agriculture, manufacturing, logistics and value addition dominate conversations around Tanzania’s future. All of these ambitions require skilled workers. They require people capable of learning continuously. People who can adapt, solve problems and build.

Singapore’s strategic choice

In Singapore, education became an economic strategy. Lee Kuan Yew, who oversaw this transformation as the country’s prime minister, understood that Singapore had no crude oil reserves, no significant mineral wealth and very little land. But it had people. Human capital became its resource.

In the 1960s, Singapore focused on literacy and industrial workers. By the 1970s, manufacturing and polytechnics. In the 1980s, electronics and engineering. In the 1990s, technology and the knowledge economy.

Today, Singapore thinks about artificial intelligence, finance, semiconductors and biotechnology. Singapore’s current EdTech Masterplan 2030 envisions “technology-transformed learning, to prepare students for a technology-transformed world.”

In other words, education continues to evolve alongside the world it hopes to prepare its students for. Perhaps that is why Singapore treats education not as something that ends with university, but as a lifelong pursuit. Continuous learning and upskilling are actively encouraged, based on the understanding that the economy will continue to evolve, and so must its people.

Singapore’s question has always been relatively simple: what will Singapore need twenty years from now?

Germany’s respect for craft

Germany approached education differently. Germany does not simply ask who scored the highest marks. It asks: What does society actually need? Its famous dual system combines schools with apprenticeships and industry.

Students spend time both in classrooms and inside companies, actively training them as future workers. At a relatively young age, many German students already possess practical skills, professional networks and work experience.

And perhaps most importantly, Germany gives dignity to technical work. Not everyone has to go to university. There is respect for different paths. Germany’s industrial strength has long depended on more than universities alone. It has also depended on a culture that values craftsmanship, vocational training and the skills required to build and maintain an industrial economy.

Almost 20 per cent of German companies participate in the vocational training system, and more than 70 per cent of trainees continue their careers with the company where they received their training.

Vocational education is highly respected in Germany, adhering to strict professional standards and helping ensure a highly skilled workforce. It has also contributed to Germany maintaining one of the lowest youth unemployment rates in Europe.

Industrialisation, after all, requires many forms of knowledge. But above all, it requires respect for the people and skills needed to sustain it.

Nigeria’s informal innovation

Nigeria is perhaps closer to what Tanzania’s education ecosystem looks like: overcrowded classrooms, degree obsession, underfunding, graduate unemployment. Nigeria is not short of graduates. It is short of skills.

Employers and policymakers alike have long pointed out that there is a “disconnect between university training and labour market needs.” Sounds familiar?

Employers themselves have repeatedly raised concerns about deficiencies in communication, teamwork, critical thinking and problem-solving. In one survey, roughly 60 per cent did not believe tertiary institutions were adequately preparing graduates for the workplace and called for closer collaboration between industry and universities.

And yet Nigeria has produced some of the biggest companies and industries in Africa, whether in technology, payment services, entertainment or literature.

Perhaps Nigeria is different because outside of the classroom exists another ecosystem altogether. There is the hustle culture. Apprenticeships. Coding boot camps. Informal networks. Communities. A vast informal economy. And a huge diaspora supporting and investing back home through remittances.

Between 2010 and 2024, remittances to Nigeria averaged over US$20 billion annually, and in many years surpassed both foreign direct investment and official development assistance. But the diaspora’s contribution extends beyond money.

Through mentorship, knowledge transfer, entrepreneurship and the establishment of businesses and startups, Nigerians abroad have continued to support and upskill communities back home. Sometimes societies innovate without their schools. Society somehow figures it out.

And perhaps that is precisely the point. Nigeria’s innovation and creativity did not emerge because of the education system. It emerged despite it. And whilst societies can innovate without strong education systems, surely it is more efficient and equitable when both society and education move in the same direction.

Nyerere’s unfinished question

In 1967, Julius Nyerere, one of Tanzania’s founding leaders, asked what kind of education would serve the purposes of Tanzania. His answer was Education for Self-Reliance. He wrote, “Only when we are clear about the kind of society we are trying to build can we design our educational service to serve our goals.”

Nyerere believed education should equip people with the knowledge, skills and values required to live and work in a changing and socialist society. It should not simply exist as a gateway to university. If we momentarily set aside his socialist focus, the principle remains deeply relevant.

He recognised something uncomfortable that perhaps remains true today. Nyerere questioned why education should be designed around the needs of doctors, engineers, teachers, economists and administrators alone. After all, as he rather bluntly observed, “Most of our pupils will never be any of these things.”

And though it sounds harsh, this is not to suggest that these professions should not be the aspiration of many. Rather, his point was that they should not become the only measure of success. Nyerere was troubled by something even deeper.

He explored how the school was separate from society. How it was a place that “children go to and which they and their parents hope will make it unnecessary for them to become farmers and continue living in the villages.”

A child growing up on a farm was educated to leave the farm, not necessarily to return with better ideas, technology and skills to improve it. The same concern exists today.

There are communities all around Tanzania living alongside mines, on fishing coasts, in agricultural regions and around emerging industrial hubs. Should education simply enable people to leave these places? Or should it also equip them with the skills and confidence to transform them?

Tanzania’s choice

Today, as Vision 2050 speaks of industrialisation, artificial intelligence, critical minerals and value addition, perhaps the challenge is not entirely different. Our modern economy requires many forms of knowledge and many pathways. Nyerere talked of self-reliance.

One may agree or disagree with his answer. But there was little doubt about the question he was trying to answer, and that we must ask ourselves: What kind of education serves the purposes of Tanzania today?

We have relative stability. Resources. Critical minerals. Growing infrastructure. Vision 2050. A strategic location. A youthful population. In many ways, the ingredients are there. But behind every successful education system lie a few uncomfortable questions.

Do we know what we are building towards? Do we know what kind of country we want to become? And therefore, do we know what kind of people will build it?

If we want rare earth processing, artificial intelligence, manufacturing, value addition and sustainable cities, we will need many forms of knowledge and many pathways. Engineers and chemists, certainly. But also technicians, machine operators, researchers, entrepreneurs, architects, urban planners and people capable of thinking long term.

And if we wish to remain in Tanzania, we will also need writers, historians, artists and storytellers who understand our history, our Swahili heritage and the values we wish to carry forward.

We will need dreamers. People capable of imagining things that do not yet exist. People capable of building them. Fundamentally, development requires people who know who they are and where they are going. Development is not simply about building roads, processing minerals and adopting artificial intelligence. It is also about deciding what kind of society we wish to become.

And perhaps that is why this conversation cannot simply be about how many students passed Form Six. Nor even how many eventually enter university. Having a degree alone is no longer enough to guarantee employment. Examinations might sort talent, but a holistic education shapes nations.

Before discussing what students should memorise, we need to ask: what kind of country are we trying to build? In 1967, Julius Nyerere believed he had an answer. In 2026, has Tanzania answered the question for itself?
Husnah Mad-hy is a lawyer and writer based in Tanzania. She can be reached at husnahmadhy@gmail.com. The opinions expressed here are the writer’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of The Chanzo. If you are interested in publishing in this space, please contact our editors at editor@thechanzo.com.