ESSAY 3: Decolonising Education in South Africa: Reclaiming the Dustbin of African History

Read as PDF

Copyright © 2025

Print ISSN: 2960-1541

Online ISSN: 2960-155X

Inclusive Society Institute PO Box 12609

Mill Street

Cape Town, 8000 South Africa 235-515 NPO All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the permission in writing from the Inclusive Society Institute D I S C L A I M E R

Views expressed in this report do not necessarily represent the views of

the Inclusive Society Institute or those of their respective Board or Council

members.

JANUARY 2025

by Dr Oscar Koopman & Dr Karen Koopman

Throughout history, two contrasting traditions in education have always unfolded. The first – “instrumental in nature” – positioning education as a tool serving the needs of governance, political influence, and economic demands (Bobbit, 1919; Tyler, 1949). The second – “education” in its purest sense – embracing an open, deep, exploratory engagement between teacher and learner (Murray, 1999). 

While pedagogy often focuses on specific outcomes, true education encourages inquiry without a predetermined end. Like a genuine conversation where the direction and outcome remain unknown, the educational experience resists a single measure, allowing learning to unfold naturally through the shared space of teacher and learner. When framed as pedagogy, however, learning becomes something measurable, evaluated by its capacity to fulfil particular social, political, or economic goals. This dynamic suggests an enduring tension, those who advocate for true education must continually defend it against the utilitarian drive of pedagogy. 

Historically, proponents of true education – who seek to cultivate free thought that results in inner freedom, critical reflection, self-awareness and personal transformation, who do not see education as a pathway for career readiness or economic gain – faced significant challenges (as seen during the #Fallist movement in 2015). To revive the call for a true educational experience for every learner and to deal with the shadow of hundreds of years of alienating colonialism, today there is a passionate and hopeful call to sweep away the shackles of any remnants of foreign dominance and control over our education system. 

Of course, it has not been enough to replace the external and more obvious oppressive institutions the colonisers imposed here. In Koopman and Koopman’s (2023) book titled, Decolonising the South African University: Towards Curriculum as Self-Authentication, Jeffrey Beyer (2023) uses a powerful metaphor in the foreword to caution against the limitations of superficial or symbolic change. He writes, “a struggling business does not hope to renew itself and begin to thrive by replacing the sign on the shop door with the new owner’s name and then proceeding to sell the same goods in the same way” (p. i). This metaphor speaks directly to South Africa’s challenge over the last three decades with its education system post-apartheid.

For decades, South Africa sought to reform its educational institutions by making structural and symbolic changes, such as renaming schools, universities, and departments, or revising curricula to reflect more inclusive, democratic ideals. However, despite these efforts, the underlying content, teaching methods, and philosophical foundations often remained deeply rooted in colonial paradigms.

This approach, while well-intentioned, was like putting a new label on the same old product, without fundamentally transforming the ideas, approaches, and values embedded within the curriculum – which continued to largely emphasise Eurocentric knowledge, prioritising Western theories and perspectives while marginalising African indigenous knowledge systems, languages, and ways of knowing. This limited the ability of South African education to truly “thrive” as a means of self-authentication, as it left students disconnected from their cultural heritage and identities.

To genuinely decolonise the curriculum, South Africa needs more than a new sign on the door; it requires a rethinking of the “goods” themselves. This means developing curricula that draw on African epistemologies, prioritise African languages and histories, and cultivate a sense of belonging and self-worth in students. Revisit and explore the deeper regions of their personal experience and culture – to reimagine and embody a way of being that has greater fidelity to the wisdom of history. This reimagining needs to be carried out in all regions of the personal psyche and the larger social milieu. Only by transforming the essence of what is taught and how it is taught can South African education move from superficial changes to substantive ones that empower students to see themselves authentically reflected in their education.

This leads to the question: If the country’s universities claim to be African Universities, but are subjected to a curriculum and its associated pedagogies that is almost entirely Western in nature, what is African about them? Where is the cultural capital in their learning spaces or the strong African values, traditions and ethos that have a deeply held interconnectedness with nature from which they derive their epistemologies and ontologies?

According to the decolonial scholar and philosopher Ndlovu-Gatsheni and Ndlovu, it lies in the “dustbin of history” with “those crucial thinkers who provided important concepts to understand the world we live in but who, due to epistemic racism, have been ignored and considered ‘inferior thinkers’ in Westernised universities” (Ndlovu-Gatsheni & Ndlovu, 2022).

But where is this “dustbin of history”, and how can the knowledge it contains be accessed? It is one thing to critique the dehumanising legacy of Western colonialism on African education, but it is another challenge altogether to bring forward transformative ideas that disrupt the deep-rooted Western paradigms dominating South Africa’s classrooms. As Mbembe (2016) emphasises, the real work lies here: in creating a meaningful rupture in the current frameworks of knowledge. To effectively pursue decolonisation, he encourages academics to reimagine what alternative models to the Eurocentric academic structures might look like, models that affirm African perspectives, values, and methodologies as foundational rather than peripheral.

Therefore, to disrupt the confines of canonical Western knowledge, there must be a revival and reclamation of what Mbembe calls the “dustbin of history”, where “the West” has discarded the profound ideas of thinkers like Mbembe (1974; 2001), Wa Thiong’o (1986), Nkrumah (1970), Fanon (1967), Nabudere (2011), and other postcolonial scholars and indigenous practitioners. It is the philosophical insights of these scholars, along with the wealth of indigenous knowledge and its practical applications – knowledge that has been deeply inscribed in students’ minds since their “first birth” – that hold the power to decolonise and liberate their minds and bodies.

This “dustbin knowledge” can be rediscovered in the lived experiences and cultural wisdom embedded within the bodies of students during their “first birth” as children, when they were nurtured and taught through the lens of their cultural heritage. This equips them with unique knowledge, creative problem-solving abilities, and the resilience to face future challenges. In this process, children develop adaptive solutions to life’s obstacles in ways that do not rely on set methodologies or rigid procedures. Rather, their learning is absorbed into the very fabric of their beings, becoming inscribed within their connective tissues and traveling through complex neurological pathways. This embodied scientific knowledge – rooted in cultural experience and personal engagement with the world – represents an invaluable resource for decolonisation and offers a pathway to authentic, holistic understanding that Westernised curricula often fail to address. 

Colonisation introduced what could be seen as a “second birth”, an imposed identity that sought to overwrite indigenous ways of knowing. However, through decolonisation, it now becomes the responsibility of teachers to facilitate a “third birth”, where learners/students can reconnect with their African identities and affirm the legitimacy of this so-called “dustbin” knowledge. This third birth necessitates the thoughtful integration of Indigenous Knowledge Systems (IKS) into school/university curricula – not as a passing trend, but as an essential rebirth that honours and revitalises African identity. By reclaiming and reinstating what has always held value for learners/students, a process is enacted not rooted in colonial origins, but in a deep reclamation of the self. This journey allows students to rediscover their own meaning and purpose, fostering an understanding of their true existence and becoming.

So, how do teachers facilitate this third birth successfully? By using an ubuntu-conscious approach, a teacher seeks to foster an inclusive and reflective classroom environment where learners/students are encouraged to question, resist, and engage in productive opposition to the teacher and/or the content material. This approach goes beyond delivering abstract knowledge from textbooks disconnected from students’ lived realities. Instead, it encourages students to critique materials through their own beliefs and cultural perspectives, engaging their sense of self in the process. By inviting students to explore the values and worldviews rooted in their backgrounds, the teacher sets the foundation for dismantling Western-centric knowledge systems and promotes deep learning anchored in self-awareness and relationality.

To disrupt dominant Western paradigms and their reliance on abstract, predetermined knowledge, the ubuntu-conscious teacher emphasises self-consciousness, drawing on a student’s connection to the world around them. This includes spiritual awareness, which encompasses both personal beliefs and the broader cultural practices connecting individuals to higher beings, the environment, and community life. Encouraging students to explore concepts such as porosity (how they identify with the world outside themselves) and transluminality (the intersection of internal and external perceptions that shape their consciousness) in order to promote a deeper awareness of their place in the world.

Acknowledging the diverse perspectives within any cultural group, this approach values the unique experiences that students bring of their lives – experiences that resonate with what ethno-cosmologists refer to as cosmological sagacity. This concept considers the insights and wisdom of not only respected sages but also everyday members of indigenous communities, capturing the essence of lived experience that shapes personal understanding within a cultural context.

Encouraging self-consciousness in students is an essential step towards achieving what Mbembe (2016) describes as “restorative epistemic justice”. This deep education requires “deep time” and “deep thinking” and moves away from superficial, standardised knowledge toward engagement with fundamental aspects of life such as joy, sorrow, community, and connection with nature. A critical component of this deep learning is guiding students to reflect on the essence of being human, which includes understanding their own significance and agency within their communities. In essence, the goal of ubuntu-conscious pedagogy is to create space for students to access and reconnect with culturally grounded knowledge that may otherwise be dismissed in favour of Western dogma.

The cultivation of self-consciousness within ubuntu pedagogy also aims to develop students’ critical, independent thinking by introducing them to multiple perspectives and ideologies. Rather than reinforcing established norms, students are encouraged to question and engage with differing viewpoints. Through discussions that include divergent voices and perspectives, students begin to see beyond their initial assumptions, developing insights into why they believe and act as they do. This reflective practice, known as redemptive cosmology, involves examining personal behaviours and actions in ways that may be beneficial or harmful to others in the community. Such self-reflection can be transformative, opening students to new, culturally resonant ways of understanding and being.

An ubuntu-conscious teacher must also be familiar with the lived realities and cultural practices of the communities from which their students come. This cultural understanding helps to validate or challenge students' perspectives on critical issues within their communities, contributing to a richer, more informed dialogue in the classroom. A meaningful way to build this cultural knowledge is through university-community partnerships. These partnerships encourage inter-epistemological dialogue, allowing academics to learn from practitioners and community members. Such collaborations and engagements generate deep thinking and renewed perspectives, allowing educators to gain insight into cultural beliefs, traditional practices, and dispel myths that may shape students’ understandings.

These partnerships foster discussions that bring epistemic restorative justice into the classroom. When students see that their lived experiences and cultural practices are respected as valid sources of knowledge, it affirms their identities and promotes a deeper connection with the learning process. This culturally integrated approach allows students to move beyond the imposition of colonial knowledge systems and toward a decolonised, authentic understanding of self and community. Ubuntu-conscious pedagogy, therefore, serves not only to educate but to heal and empower by valuing the whole person and the cultural wisdom they carry.

References

Fanon, F. 1967. Black skin, white mask. New York: Grove Press.

Mbembe, A. 2001. On the postcolony. US: University of California Press.

Mbembe, A. 2016. Decolonising the university: New directions, Arts and Humanities in Higher Education, 15(1): 29-45.

Nabudere, D.W. 2011. Archie Mafeje: Scholar, activist and thinker. Pretoria: Africa Institute of South Africa.

Ndlovu-Gatsheni, S.J. & Ndlovu, M. 2022. Introduction – Marxism and decolonisation in the 21st century, In S.J. Ndlovu-Gatsheni & M. Ndlovu (Eds.), Marxism and decolonisation in the 21st century: Living theories and true ideas. UK: Routledge.

Nkrumah, K. 1970. Consciencism: Philosophy and ideology for decolonisation. Africa: Panaf.

Wa Thiong’o, N. 2009. Something torn and new: An African renaissance. UK: Routledge.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This report has been published by the Inclusive Society Institute

The Inclusive Society Institute (ISI) is an autonomous and independent institution that functions independently from any other entity. It is founded for the purpose of supporting and further deepening multi-party democracy. The ISI’s work is motivated by its desire to achieve non-racialism, non-sexism, social justice and cohesion, economic development and equality in South Africa, through a value system that embodies the social and national democratic principles associated with a developmental state. It recognises that a well-functioning democracy requires well-functioning political formations that are suitably equipped and capacitated. It further acknowledges that South Africa is inextricably linked to the ever transforming and interdependent global world, which necessitates international and multilateral cooperation. As such, the ISI also seeks to achieve its ideals at a global level through cooperation with like-minded parties and organs of civil society who share its basic values. In South Africa, ISI’s ideological positioning is aligned with that of the current ruling party and others in broader society with similar ideals.

Email: info@inclusivesociety.org.za

Phone: +27 (0) 21 201 1589

Web: www.inclusivesociety.org.za