One thing which attracts both foe and friend to Higher Education minister, William Ruto, is rightly his radical approach to everything.
Be it politics, ministerial duties, and family matters, he employs admirable boldness that scares skeptics and procrastinators. Though, it seems his radicalism seems to have grounded his wife and permanently relocated her to anonymity, the other two have positively exhibited this man’s bravery.
Politically, he has done enough to promulgate (I told you this word is not any new) this trait possessed by few. Former President Moi, factually, has court-satisfying evidence about this guy’s unequal prowess, Prime Minister Raila Odinga should have had, by now, enough of this man. And many others!
Perfectly, he has shot down any existing status quo in equal measure like a sniper aiming at the heart of an enemy. President Kibaki tasted the bitter side of Ruto when he turned against him few months ago during campaigns for a new constitution.
All above aside. And the latest salvo fired by him is more awakening and interesting. It should be, especially when the best new courses offered in local universities are nothing different from traditional skills a man or a woman needed during the medieval times. For rookies and likes, universities are of late piecing out courses like a heartless butcher. Once popular courses have been compartmentalised to the least known section with an intention of attracting more students, especially self-sponsored.
Kenyatta University, the last university to seriously allow students to flex their arm muscles in throwing stones and engaging in Bachelor of Destructology and Stonology, offers some of the most bizarre courses; Check this: Diploma in Gerontology-for goodness sake what’s Gere...that one? Anyway, BSC in Meetings is there too. Yes, you got it right. Students who passed KCSE well going for a four-year course to know how to meet! Huh! When did young Kenyans fail to meet and meet and do it more; like meeting with a friend on the road when going for kindergarten classes to meeting for Academic fires in high school. Do they really need some heavily-moustached, white-haired, and long-whiskered lecturer to debunk some science to them about meeting?
Further ahead to JKUAT and creativity is at its low. Unique they could sound but woe unto the composers of such degree courses as BSc in Crop Protection and BSc. Food Science and Postharvest Technology. Ok, it’s understandable. But surely after good years of numerously perusing Chemistry and Physics books, oh sorry, plus endless Mathematics calculations and finally one is subjected to some ‘harvesting ’course? Honestly, harvesting what, where, for what and why should a graduate do that?
If you haven’t fainted yet then Masinde Muliro’s Bachelor of Science in Sugar Technology (Yea Sugar, the one you regularly put in your tea, coffee, cake etc, someone is learning the technology behind it) could be the perfect pill to send you to unconsciousness for a while, I guess, because this earth still needs you. Speaking of earth and Maseno University could help you learn more about earthworms through their programme Bachelor of Earth Science.
When Ruto, in that not-so-archaic baritone voice, talk of tough measures to control the learned guys whose hunger for the coin has made them hoodwink desperate students to enrol in asinine courses, he not only come to the rescue when milk has already spilt but hopefully he’ll miraculously scoop it up, quarter or half, not wholly definitely.
Just by the way...
*Those pastors who still preach prosperously about one getting a visa to US of America or UK have lost it. A question for them: What the heck (I restricted myself to this sober word otherwise a stronger one was boiling in my head) is there in America to necessitate spiritual intervention? To go live in a desert in Tennessee, or New Orleans where each night you watch over at the balcony for a Tsunami. Which one is better? A resourceful tea picking job in Kericho, granite mining in Taveta, where each day you go home and rest or a 24-hour a day watch in N. Orleans or soothing an octogenarian's dogs to sleep?
I wish they stopped such abracadabra kind of preaching. They make our God appear so cheap.
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