In the heart of Kampala, Makerere University still stands tall—its red-brick towers and colonial architecture projecting a sense of permanence.
But behind the iconic façade, something far less visible is slipping away. Uganda’s oldest and most prestigious public university is bleeding its intellectual lifeblood: professors and senior lecturers are leaving in a quiet but steady exodus.
And it’s not just retirement, it’s frustration, burnout, and a deepening sense of institutional drift. An investigation by this writer reveals that between 2018 and 2024, Makerere lost over 30 professors and nearly 50 senior lecturers. That may sound like just numbers on a page.
But each of these individuals took decades to shape—decades of public investment, mentorship and academic rigor. Their departure isn’t just a staffing issue. It’s a national loss.
A SYSTEM LETTING ITS BRIGHTEST MINDS WALK AWAY
In Uganda, becoming a professor is no small feat. It takes years of teaching, publishing, supervising graduate students, and navigating the bureaucracy of academic life. Most of the professors currently in Uganda’s public universities were educated on government scholarships.
They are public goods—national investments whose value extends beyond the classroom. And yet, the very institutions they helped build seem unable—or unwilling—to hold onto them. Take Professors Sylvia Tamale and Joe Oloka-Onyango, two of the most respected scholars of their generation.
If you see them walking through the streets of Kampala today, you will find they remain as intellectually sharp and spirited as ever. And yet, they are no longer at Makerere. Tamale left before the mandatory retirement age of 65. She’s 63. Oloka-Onyango only just turned 65.
But both have moved on—quietly, but unmistakably. Had Makerere been a place with foresight and courage, one that valued its intellectual giants not just in ceremony but in practice, it would have done everything in its power to keep them. Instead, the system seems designed to let them go.
THE RANKINGS THAT STIRRED A RECKONING
In July, the Daily Monitor published university rankings that reignited scrutiny of Makerere. The university was listed 41st in Africa, but it was a shared rank, tied with 31 other institutions. For many Ugandans, the result felt disappointing, even embarrassing.
Makerere was once called the “Harvard of Africa.” Today, the numbers tell a different story. According to Times Higher Education metrics, Makerere’s teaching score was 21 per cent. Its research environment scored just 6.4 per cent. Research quality reached 45.1 per cent. Industry innovation? A mere 20 per cent.
These figures aren’t just academic; they reflect real gaps in output, visibility and impact. And most of these metrics rely on one thing: professors. So, why is the output so low? Because the university is losing the very people who produce it. At last count, Makerere was operating at only 42 per cent staffing capacity.
Even among those still on the books, many are either overworked, burnt out, or actively seeking ways out. If losing scholars weren’t bad enough, Makerere’s internal governance has also taken a troubling turn. In what used to be a university guided by robust academic debate, key decisions are now concentrated in the hands of a few.

Two top offices, the Academic Registrar and the Deputy Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs (DVCAA), have been held in acting capacity by the same individual, Prof Mukadasi Buyinza. On occasions when the vice chancellor traveled abroad, Prof Buyinza has even held three roles at once.
This over-centralization, while technically possible, is institutionally reckless. What’s more, the DVCAA position is one of the most demanding posts in the university—effectively the engine room of academic operations.
That it can be held as an “acting” post for such a long period, with no clear succession plan, is symptomatic of deeper dysfunction. In a healthy academic institution, the Senate—a body composed largely of scholars—is the seat of academic authority. At Makerere, however, that seat is increasingly symbolic.
Decisions are now made by the University Council; a body composed mostly of political appointees and non-academic figures. The consequence? A university where academics are sidelined, and institutional direction is shaped more by politics than scholarship. One insider likened it to a “good secondary school”—a stinging indictment for a university once revered across the continent.
NOT JUST RETIREMENT – BUT REJECTION
The exodus of professors can’t simply be explained by age. For years, it was common practice for professors to stay on past the official retirement age of 65, through post- retirement contracts offered in 4-4-2 cycles (two four-year contracts followed by two years, extending up to age 75).
This made sense. Academia isn’t sport—scholars grow more valuable with age, not less. But now, even these post-retirement contracts are being denied or quietly phased out. Some professors have had their contracts terminated without clear cause. Others were subjected to toxic work environments or outright threats.
For people who have given their lives to the university, the message is unmistakable: your time is up—not when your wisdom fades, but when politics decides. What’s most painful in all this is the lost potential.
Uganda’s higher education system depends on places like Makerere not just to teach, but to inspire, to question, to lead national conversations. When professors walk away—not to greener pastures, but often to quieter lives—the system doesn’t just lose knowledge. It loses continuity, mentorship and innovation.
And the public, which paid for their education through taxes, loses its return on investment. Makerere’s leadership has responded to criticism with statements, many of them defensive, some tone-deaf.
But words alone won’t rebuild trust or stem the loss of talent. What’s needed is institutional reform, intellectual humility, and a real commitment to protecting what matters most in any university: its people.
A SYSTEM RIGGED IN REAL TIME
In the last 10 years, under pressure to align the university with the political interests of the Museveni government, those contracts have been quietly eroded. First, the structure was shortened to 2-1-1-1. Then it became just a single year. And even, that could be denied arbitrarily.
For those viewed as politically inconvenient, applications were dismissed without explanation. For the well-connected, four-year contracts were approved without question.
MOVING GOALPOSTS, POLITICAL FAVORS
Promotions, too, have lost their grounding in academic achievement. In theory, moving from lecturer to senior lecturer—or from associate professor to full professor—requires a combination of teaching, publishing and mentorship.
But at Makerere, those standards have become elastic. At times, promotion committees have demanded evidence of supervising multiple master’s and PhD students, even in departments where no such programs exist.
At other times, they have insisted on evidence of attracting large research grants, effectively turning scholars into fundraisers. Ironically, there is no clear benchmark for how much money is “enough.”
One professor recalled being told informally that their application lacked “weight,” despite ticking every formal box. For others, even securing a meeting to discuss promotion meant navigating gatekeepers whose authority often outranked their qualifications.
WHEN PROFESSORS KNEEL
Perhaps the most demoralizing shift is not in policy but in culture. In a university meant to be governed by ideas, senior academics have found themselves needing to “seek audience” with administrative officers—sometimes with lesser academic credentials—just to discuss their future.
“You have professors kneeling before people with bachelor’s degrees,” said one source, voice heavy with disgust.
“At Makerere, the professor should be the boss, not a beggar.” Faced with this new order, many simply walked away. Professors Sylvia Tamale and Joe Oloka-Onyango—arguably two of the most revered academics of their generation—never bothered to apply for post-retirement contracts.
Nor did Prof David Bakibinga or Prof Maria Nassali. They left with quiet dignity, rather than submit themselves to what one former lecturer called “institutional humiliation.” Their exits have left an aching void.
Professors like Tamale and Oloka-Onyango were not only deeply accomplished researchers but were also outspoken thinkers, passionate mentors and public voices of conscience. Their departure isn’t just a loss to the university; it’s a loss to the nation’s intel-Professors like Dominic Dipio, Patrick Mangeni and Godfrey Asiimwe submitted applications for post-retirement contracts.
They were denied—again, without explanation. Makerere’s defenders might point to budget constraints or restructuring. But that argument falters under closer scrutiny. Many of these academics didn’t leave for private universities or foreign institutions.
They either joined smaller public universities elsewhere in Uganda, or left academia altogether, choosing peace of mind over endless bureaucratic battles.
A CULTURE OF FEAR AND SILENCE
At the root of the exodus is not just policy, but fear—a creeping, corrosive fear that silence is safer than speech, that compliance is more valued than contribution.
The space once reserved for collegial debate and academic independence has shrunk, replaced by suspicion, political maneuvering, and a sense that real influence lies not in scholarship, but in proximity to power.
When a university begins to treat its professors as liabilities rather than assets, it forfeits its claim to excellence. And when contracts and promotions are no longer tied to work, but to obedience, the rot sets in—quietly at first, then irreversibly.
The table below only shows departing Associate and full professors
|
School/College |
Departing Professor |
|
School of Law |
Prof. Joe Oloka-Onyango |
|
College of Humanities and Social Sciences (CHUSS) |
Prof. Edward Kirumira |
|
College of Veterinary Medicine, Animal Resources and Bio-security (COVAB) |
Prof. Rubaire Akiiki |
|
College of Education and External Studies (CEES) |
Prof. Connie Ssebunga Masembe |
|
Medicine and Surgery |
Prof. Nelson Sewankambo |
|
Business |
Prof. Eseza Kateregga |
|
Others |
Prof. J.B. Nyakaana (Philosophy) |

Insightful
Electric
Is civilization stooping? What has happened to moral values?
There are ads all over the page. Could read anything.
Buy the hard copy paper then
This stinks! In a country where politics underpins everything, it is disheartening to see institutions rot. We are intellectually enslaved because mediocrity must reign.
It is very clear indeed that most of these dodgy Makerere professors who are running away from their responsibilities at Makerere might even start to flee when placed in the big economies of China or the U.S.A. Mind you Makerere is an old Ganda University that started from the bushes of Makerere village 1925 by the great grand parents of the Ganda tribes people and struggled through the world political turmoil of 1935-1945(Second World War), and the brutal independence times of Uganda, until it was politically accepted as an independent university institute by 1970. Even if these lecturers are abandoning this mismanaged Makerere institute of learning, this Ganda learning prestigious institute which the tax payers of this country have struggled to maintain for 100 years, Makerere(Kivulu) will continue to exist as long as the Ganda fraternity want it on their territory. The oldest Higher Learning institute on the continent of Africa one understands it is Al-Qarawayyin that was founded in 859 A.D by a Tunisian-born woman known as Fatima al-Fihri in Morocco’s Fez city. The university is not only the oldest higher education institution on earth, but also the first to be founded by a woman, who was a Muslim! State power greedy NRM will not be able to destroy this great Makerere learning institute of the Ganda tribes people even if it tries very hard on!
Kawedemu da.
Lubaale bamutute mukuma lubugo( The giblets were already harvested, you are left with chicken feathers)
What, hiccup, I am beginning to suspect is that Makerere University is going to be watered down so much that the Executive “will have no choice” other than to give it to “an investor” or relocate it and put a hotel.
Semei Kakungulu’s offspring, here we come.
Hiccup !
I knew it! This report is spot on in part! As soon as MUK was uncovered by the global rankings, then they started bickering over this and that, it was clear for the public … waiting until another report lays bare the rot behind.
I know one Dr. lecturer who was swallowed up by a university in North America, about 6 years ago, when this person was first invited as a visiting professor before being retained and this north American university even fasttracked citizenship for this Dr. This is robbery! We train up and then discard our pearls then others come take for free and use them to continue their society’s advancement … while we continue going backwards, locked in unending drama of money and power/politics … this report has highlighted part of the incompetence.
There are other areas with glaring issues too, in addition to the nuggets in this report.
Surely, MUK, for which future are you guys training up our Ugandans?
Sorry for over commenting on this issue but it seems to be a case of OKALYA DA KA DADA. What you sow is what you reap.
Allow me to explain and none of this is personal.
1. Mr. Salim Saleh was appointed a junior Finance Minister during the early days of the NRM government. He had miserably failed Math- these Makerere people KEPT QUIET not even a cough.
2. Mrs. Museveni Janet was awarded a suspicious degree in Education at Makerere yet the records showed that she stopped in Senior 3 and there is no evidence of her teaching practice to acquire a degree in Education. She was later appointed minister of Education.
Still Makerere people KEPT QUIET.
You people who are “paining” for Makerere were/are complicit in it’s downfall.
You let the pig into the house and now the house is a pig sty and now you cry out.
WHEN YOU ARE EATING FISH IN THE DARK YOU KEEP QUIET BUT WHEN A FISH BONE GETS STUCK IN YOUR THROAT YOU CALL OUT FOR HELP…
Olwa ta omugenzi nalumanya…
I knew what killed the deceased… but what did you do about it?
You let “your University” go to the dogs, why should we liberate it for you so that you can again give it to dogs?
“The university of Africa”, “a center of academic excellence”, etc mubiyimbire eyo.
Let this be a warning to BUGANDA KINGDOM(administrators take care-buganda is in our blood not like Makerere YOU WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE)
Ebyo bye byange.
Hiccup!
I Al an alumni of these prestigious university in the continent.i am from Kenya and when I recently saw the drop in Times higher ranking, 8 noticed MUK has fallen…it’s so sad to see Ugandans killing their own prestigious institution..sanity has to be restored back to makerere or else, it will remain a name that was once sweet to be pronounced.so sad
I found the topic engaging, but the intrusive advertisements made it nearly impossible to read the article in full. Please consider optimizing ad placement for better user experience.
One alumni of ‘makunika’ who was carried away at 65, mused ‘every new generation assumes it is wiser than the past one ‘
Psalm 46
Serunkuma’s article is a powerful indictment of an institution in crisis. It combines moral urgency with evocative storytelling, and while it lacks theoretical depth and full methodological rigor, it succeeds as a public intellectual intervention.
For academics, policymakers, and university leadership alike, the article demands serious reflection on what kind of university Makerere wants to be—and whether it is willing to reclaim its place as the intellectual beacon of Africa.
The Quiet Exodus at Makerere: A Critique and National Call to Action
Based on Yusuf Serunkuma’s article in The Observer (July 16, 2025)
Yusuf Serunkuma’s powerful investigative article, “The Quiet Exodus: Why Top Professors Are Fleeing Makerere,” draws national attention to a troubling trend unfolding at Uganda’s premier public university. His central argument is that Makerere is undergoing a silent but deeply consequential loss of senior academics—not due to natural retirement cycles, but as a result of systemic dysfunction, burnout, institutional neglect, and political interference.
Serunkuma meticulously chronicles the departure of over 30 professors and nearly 50 senior lecturers between 2018 and 2024. He argues that these departures constitute more than a staffing problem—they represent a national crisis of intellectual erosion. Professors, as products of public investment, are leaving prematurely or refusing post-retirement contracts due to an environment characterized by diminished academic freedom, toxic governance, and the politicization of internal university affairs.
The article identifies critical fault lines: governance over-centralization, unfulfilled or arbitrarily denied post-retirement contracts, opaque promotion processes, and the collapse of collegial academic culture. Particularly concerning is the reported trend of professors being subordinated to administrators with lower qualifications, forced to “seek audience” or “beg” for their academic progression. The marginalization of the university Senate and the growing dominance of politically-appointed University Councils underscores a broader shift—one where power has moved away from scholarship and into politics.
However, the article’s methodology raises concerns regarding academic robustness. While the narrative is compelling, it lacks clarity on how data on professor departures were collected, verified, or triangulated. The reader is left to assume the author relied on insider testimonies and unofficial records, which, though valuable in investigative journalism, limit generalizability and reliability in scholarly discourse. For example, no institutional datasets, HR records, or independent surveys are cited to support the tally of exiting faculty members.
Furthermore, the absence of counter-perspectives—such as responses from university management, the Ministry of Education, or internal audit bodies—weakens the article’s neutrality. A rigorous academic inquiry would have benefited from comparative analysis with other public universities to determine whether the crisis is unique to Makerere or symptomatic of a sector-wide decline. Likewise, interviews with professors who chose to stay could have offered a more balanced lens.
Despite these methodological limitations, Serunkuma’s article succeeds as a public intellectual intervention. It elevates critical issues that have long simmered beneath the surface—issues that, if ignored, risk turning Makerere into a hollow shell of its former self. The article’s invocation of declining Times Higher Education rankings, citing weak teaching scores (21%), dismal research environment (6.4%), and low innovation capacity (20%), underscores how institutional decay is being reflected internationally.
The implications are far-reaching. When professors exit prematurely, universities lose not just experienced teachers but mentors, research leaders, and intellectual guardians. Graduate training weakens, continuity of scholarship is disrupted, and public confidence erodes. The national brain drain worsens—not through foreign migration alone, but through local academic disengagement.
The Government of Uganda must treat this as a policy emergency. Reforms are urgently needed in university governance, human resource systems, and protections for academic freedom. Senior academic roles should be filled transparently and timeously, with post-retirement pathways anchored in merit, not politics. Promotion and performance benchmarks must be realistic, transparent, and aligned with the institutional contexts of departments.
A national audit of academic staff attrition across public universities is warranted, as is the creation of a national charter for academic integrity and collegial governance. Such reforms must aim to restore dignity to the academic profession and ensure Uganda retains its intellectual capital.
Serunkuma’s article, despite its methodological gaps, is a bold and timely contribution. It offers a compelling narrative grounded in urgency and moral clarity. For policymakers, higher education stakeholders, and the Ugandan public, it is not just a report to read—but a crisis to confront.
The Quiet Exodus and the Crisis of Uganda’s Intellectual Sovereignty
Reframing Yusuf Serunkuma’s Critique through the Lens of al-Faruqī and Uganda’s Education Reform
“Wealth or political office may yield visible authority—but unless you shape the underlying ideas—through schools, universities, media, legal codes, and cultural narratives—you effectively relinquish true control.” — Ismāʾīl al‑Faruqī
Yusuf Serunkuma’s exposé, “The Quiet Exodus: Why Top Professors Are Fleeing Makerere”, published by The Observer on July 16, 2025, delivers a striking diagnosis of a national crisis quietly unfolding within Uganda’s most prominent institution of higher learning. While Makerere University still stands tall in physical form, its intellectual foundations are being hollowed out. Professors and senior academics, many of whom represent decades of accumulated wisdom and public investment, are exiting the university—not because of natural retirement cycles but due to burnout, institutional inertia, and political interference.
This exodus is symptomatic of a broader ideological failure. Serunkuma presents a sobering picture of centralised decision-making, the politicisation of promotion and contract renewal processes, and the dismantling of collegial culture. Senior academics are no longer judged by their contributions to scholarship, mentorship, or national discourse but by their proximity to administrative power. When scholars must “seek audience” with lesser-qualified bureaucrats to discuss their professional futures, the damage is not merely personal—it is systemic.
Al-Faruqī’s warning resonates deeply here: Uganda is slowly yielding its intellectual sovereignty by failing to protect the institutions that shape national consciousness. Makerere, once a bastion of African intellectualism, now struggles to retain its thinkers, not because they lack commitment, but because the environment no longer values independent thought. It is one thing to build classrooms and lecture halls—it is another to defend the soul of a university.
While the National Curriculum Development Centre (NCDC) has commendably introduced the competency-based curriculum (CBC) in secondary education to modernise pedagogy, the reform remains pedagogical rather than philosophical. It focuses on learner-centered teaching, critical thinking, and skills for lifelong learning, but does not go far enough in decolonising knowledge or embedding a distinctly Ugandan worldview. The underlying content still privileges Western epistemologies, and the system remains ideologically neutral—an approach that inadvertently leaves space for the infiltration of foreign ideas often disconnected from Uganda’s communal, spiritual, and cultural heritage.
The disconnection between schools, universities, media, and law has produced fragmented institutions operating in silos, unable to reinforce a coherent national narrative. As Serunkuma reveals, even the university’s internal structures are increasingly shaped not by academic debate but by political maneuvering. It is therefore unsurprising that the CBC reforms, though ambitious, risk superficiality if the university system itself cannot safeguard the scholars who are meant to implement and expand them.
While Serunkuma’s article is rich in journalistic insight, it does not clarify how data on academic exits were collected or validated. No triangulation with official university or ministry records is provided, and alternative institutional perspectives are absent. Yet despite this methodological limitation, the article succeeds in raising urgent questions about institutional stewardship and national priorities.
Uganda must recognize that the loss of scholars is not just a staffing crisis—it is a strategic hemorrhage. When professors walk away, the nation loses mentors, researchers, cultural custodians, and critical voices. The government must not only address the human resource grievances raised in the article but also confront the ideological vacuum that such departures expose. To reclaim its intellectual sovereignty, Uganda must infuse its educational system with indigenous philosophies, train its teachers and professors as custodians of national thought, and ensure its media and legal codes reinforce—not contradict—the values being taught in schools.
Serunkuma’s narrative and al-Faruqī’s insight converge on a singular truth: the battle for national development is first and foremost a battle for the mind. Uganda must not only reform education structurally—it must ideologize it purposefully, and guard the institutions that carry the burden of shaping its future.
True liberation is not only economic or political. It is the power to define one’s own reality, through one’s own ideas, taught in one’s own institutions.
Why put up an article but then patch it all over with the same advert throughout?
The Exodus is not only at Makerere but the entire country. Ask your selves where do the most bright students of the country. My colleagues are all abroad naturing scattered and risking working conditions, abuse and degradation in conflict affected countries, Arab countries among others. They might have been educated home but the real value goes to those countries. Uganda looses the best mind and maintains academic dwarfs to manage the county. That is why all interventions are never sustainable
I have read Yosf Serunkuma’s article “The Quiet Exodus:… with great interest. It is a timely, well-argued piece that captures a troubling reality in our academic institutions. Despite some of the nuances raised by Joseph, wI believe that Serunkuma’s analysis sheds important light on a broader & deeply rooted crisis.
H/ver, this exodus isn’t confined to Muk or to university professors alone. The quiet despair is also palpable in Uganda’s public primary and secondary schools, particularly among teachers of humanities and art subjects.
These professionals are increasingly demoralised and ‘Burkina out’ in silence, largely due to the disproportionate prioritisation and remuneration of science teachers. Yet, it is general knowledge that science cannot thrive in insolation.
A well-rounded education system must value the humanities equally, recorgnising their critical role in nurturing critical thinking, ethical reasoning, communication skills, cultural awareness, among others. Ignoring this balance risks not only the flight of talent from our institutions, but also the erosion of the intellectual and civic fondation of our society.