(This article was first published in the New Vision on November, 2, 2022)
In 1966, a young Prof. Kenneth Kagame and his colleagues were helped by teachers to cheat exams. He narrates the experience
A day before my classmates and I sat Primary Leaving Examinations at a school in Kanungu district in 1966, the headteacher gathered us for a final briefing. His main point was to remind us to report to school by 7:00am the following day.
For me, that was a tall order because my home in Katete village was five miles away from the school. The trek to school involved not just crossing a steep valley, but also climbing a one-mile-long steep hill, which was filled with sharp stones that presented a challenge to our bare feet. Nevertheless, the next day, through biting cold, a dewy morning, darkness, and unforgiving stones, we made it to school on time.
The pre-exam briefing was simple and short. We were actually given answers to the examination question paper. It was a multiple-choice questions exam with answers to choose from. We were required to select the correct answer from any of the answers marked (a), (b), (c) or (d).
We were asked to use the two hours prior to exams to cram the answers we had been given to the best of our ability. I did my best to do so. However, as time drew nearer, unavoidable stress, overwhelming panic and natural anxiety were increasingly palpable.
Cheating Backfires
The bell rang at 9.00am. We entered the exam hall and sat down. Pin-drop silence filled the room as the exam papers were distributed. We were instructed to commence writing the exam. I did well until I got to question number five. I felt totally confused and unsure whether to select (b) or (d). I then haphazardly selected (d). Thereafter, my mind got totally mixed up. I failed to remember the order of answers I had crammed earlier.
While sweating profusely, my hand holding the pen quivering, I silently sighed deeply in frustration and surrendered. I abandoned the memory effort and instead answered questions based on what I had learnt in class over the past two years. When the exam results were released in January 1967, I had scored “a considerable first grade” but was among the worst performers.
Apparently, most students had covertly carried written answers into the exam hall. A few other candidates and I – mostly tiny and youngest of all – were too timid to carry answers into the exam hall.
Fortunately, however, my grade was good enough for entry into Ntare School. My father bought me my first pair of shoes, a lockable wooden box and dispatched me to Mbarara.
Leaving Ntare After A Week
In Mbarara, I proudly carried my wooden box on my head and asked for directions to Ntare. From the information on the noticeboard at Ntare, I learnt that my name had been removed from the student recruitment list. My uncle, Sam Rugege, who was a Senior Six student then, took me to the headmaster’s residence to inquire why my name had been removed. Mr Crichton, the headmaster, asked if I was Kagame from Kanungu. After confirming my identity, he told us I had been disqualified because our school had cheated in the exams. However, he stated that he had in his records my previous performance right from Primary One class, and was willing to admit me.
However, he needed permission from the education ministry. A week later, he said he had failed to do so, but advised me to do another exam. He reserved my place and promised to admit me if I passed it. After tasting the food at Ntare, watching cricket games and a Romeo and Juliet stage performance during my week-long stay, I left the school. My departure felt like leaving heaven.
I was very sad and angry and chose to take the Kabale route instead of Rukungiri. My mission was to meet with the district education officer and complain about my primary school teachers who committed examination malpractice. Three neighbouring schools – a Muslim, Anglican and Catholic school (an unholy ecumenical union!) – were involved in the same scandal. In the previous December holiday, all the headmasters of these schools had been promoted to education officers.
Punish Teachers
My argument was if a whole school was involved in this kind of exam malpractice, it was the teacher(s) who should be considered fraudulent rather than the students.
The candidates are totally naïve and innocent victims, unable to resist the temptation of receiving exam answers from teachers. In my case, I had not cheated (except for the first four questions). It was paradoxical and inconsiderate that the principal criminals — the headteachers of the cheating schools — were promoted and the students disqualified.
I did not find the education officer at his workstation in Kabale. I inquired who his boss was, and was directed to the “secretary general” (SG) – who was the equivalent to today’s LC5 chairperson.
I entered his office and stated that “I have a case to report” (note that I was a tiny 16-year-old boy at that time). He stared at me and asked to know my father’s name. “Nekemiah Girasi,” I replied. The SG stood up and towered over me, shouting “get out of my office pretty fast.”
Angry, frustrated and confused, I immediately bolted out of his office. Unknown to me, my father (RIP) – who was at that time a Muluka chief at the border in Kayonza, Kanungu – had just arrested the SG’s agents for smuggling coffee from DR Congo.
They had been charged and imprisoned. And he was unapologetic for having done so. My father was my role model, and throughout my working life, I strived to be as unadulterated and uncorrupted as he was. I will always do so.
Fresh Examinations
I was determined to drag the three headmasters to court if another exam was not given to me. However, three months later, while I was grazing cattle, a neighbour came to deliver the news to me that we were going to sit another exam in three days’ time. I passed and returned to Ntare. The headmaster kept his word.
But my other classmates were not so lucky. They either missed a year, or went to “third world” schools, and did not make it to university.
I particularly remember two individuals; a friend named Herbert Butamanya (RIP) and my uncle Lazaro Mucurabuhoro, who were better than me in class, but suffered this misfortune.
Retrospectively, I believe I have the dubious honour of being a pioneer exam cheat. I still believe today, as I did 55 years ago, that when a whole school cheats in final exams, it is the teachers who are responsible (not the students) unless proven otherwise.
I strongly believe such teachers should be imprisoned for destroying young lives, and the Uganda National Examinations Board should arrange another exam for innocent victims as it did for me. Young candidates are too tense, anxious and naïve to reject their teachers’ temptation. I feel anger and sympathy when I see poor students disqualified while teachers are not prosecuted.
Next time this happens, I should gather courage and resources and do what I should have done 55 years ago: go to court and file a case as a matter of public interest. I sincerely wish all candidates success and pray for an exam season free of cheating. Amen.
The writer is a retired ophthalmologist and a medical director at Dr Agarwal Eye Hospital, Kampala
