Let’s face it, our education system has taught students how to find x, recite Shakespeare, and cram the digestive system of an insect.
But one thing it still struggles to teach is how to create value, solve real problems, and, more importantly, earn money without writing love-like application letters to HR managers.
But a quiet revolution is knocking. A new breed of students: young, curious, slightly rebellious, is rising. They are no longer waiting for job offers; they are designing logos, mixing organic soaps, knitting, baking cookies with banana flour and selling airtime via apps.
Welcome to the era of student-preneurs. It starts in school. Not with a lecture, but with a project. Not a project where they build a volcano that explodes on the Head Teacher’s shoes, but one where students are challenged to spot a problem in their community and solve it using innovation, grit, and a dash of passionate chaos.
The best schools now run business clubs where students don’t just write business plans, they implement them. They start piggery farms, bake cakes during break time, and produce herbal sanitizers that may or may not kill 99 per cent of germs, but definitely kill boredom.
Let’s be clear: a school project should not just earn a grade, it should unlock a future. A boy who starts a poultry project learns more about economics, patience, and life than he would in three years of abstract commerce theory.
He also learns that chickens are ungrateful creatures who don’t lay eggs when you need them most. Take the case of a girl in Senior three who starts blending fruit juice and packaging it in reused mineral water bottles.
Or Michelle doing knitting in Senior two. By the end of the term, she has loyal customers, a proper label, and is already explaining to her parents what “profit margin” means. That’s not a project, that’s a startup.
Then there’s the young genius who repairs broken radios in school, charges his classmates to fix their cracked phones, and secretly runs an electronics lab under the physics teacher’s nose.
Before you know it, he has employees, and he is still 16. Imagine if we nurtured that spark instead of killing it with rules about tucked-in shirts. The magic lies in guiding student passion. Some are born artists; let them design clothing lines or modeling.
Others are herbal scientists; let them create organic toothpaste or mosquito repellents. Some are natural marketers; they can sell a rock to a farmer. Why not let them sell school-branded merchandise instead? And the best part?
These projects don’t just teach business, they teach character. Students learn resilience when their first idea flops, leadership when they have to manage their peers, and humility when their parents ask them to use their profits to buy sugar for the house.
Let’s also address the elephant in the classroom: unemployment. Uganda produces thousands of graduates each year and only a handful of jobs. If we want a future where our children are not professional job seekers with 17 cover letters and no rent, we must start them young.
With ideas, not just degrees. Imagine a curriculum where a student can choose between “Advanced Calculus” and “How to Start a Profitable Rabbit Farm.” Or where end-of-term assessment includes pitching a business idea to real investors, not just answering whether Napoleon was a hero or a villain.
We also need to involve the community. Parents should stop calling student projects “hobbies” and start treating them like the first boardroom meeting of a future empire. Teachers should mentor, not micromanage.
And let’s not forget, many of these kids have digital skills their teachers don’t. Let them explore! The most powerful outcome of this movement is not money. It’s self-belief. A student who starts a detergent business or a tech app at 17 won’t fear unemployment at 25.
They won’t depend entirely on a salary to survive. They’ll face life with ideas in their heads and fire in their hearts. So, let the school projects go beyond posters and diagrams. Let’s see more candle-making, app development, chapati machines, mushroom farms, graphic design portfolios, and financial literacy fairs.
Let the classroom spill into the marketplace because that’s where the future is being built. It is time to stop asking students, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and start asking, “What problem do you want to solve, starting now?”
Because the future doesn’t belong to those who wait for jobs. It belongs to those who create them before they even finish their UNEB registration.
The writer is the general manager, commercial banking at Centenary bank