Exodus: International Student Mobility from East Africa in The Late 1950s to Mid-1960s

When looking at the first list of international alumni with its focus on the years 1945 to 1985 and its 627 names, I found about 50 from African countries, including Ghana, South Africa, Egypt, Nigeria, Ethiopia, Tunisia, Namibia, Sudan, Kenya, The Democratic Republic of Congo, and Sierra Leone. All these African alumni study periods were between the 1960s and 1970s. In the order of numbers, there were more Ghanaians and South Africans followed by Egyptians, Nigerians, Sudanese, Tunisians, and lastly an Ethiopian, Namibian, Congolese, Sierra Leonean, and a Kenyan.

During this time, I was immersed in a critical attempt to understand these alumni choices to study arts abroad, especially when the so-called white-collar careers and expertise, e.g. administration positions such as law and advocacy, finance management, medicine and health care, and of course agricultural and engineering studies, were given more concentration on building the nation ahead of independence from the colonial masters (“trigger happy” as Kenyan politician Joseph Murumbi referred to them). Questions such as, who could travel, and what kind of financial support dynamics existed both locally and internationally at the time got me puzzled.

The research into HFBK’s African alumni relied majorly on finding digital footprints which proved to be burdensome except for one Gavin Jantjes, a South African painter, curator, writer, lecturer, and activist. In the case of female artists, it was deemed possible for some to have changed their surnames upon marrying. Therefore, to some extent, the names in our possession couldn’t have been useful. I opted to write to the national museums in the respective countries with follow-up emails in the hope of finding the alumni trails of collaborations, but this move proved to be in vain since none of my emails were answered to date.

Another one of my interests regarding African alumni was Germany as the choice for overseas studying, except for the Namibian student with the obvious assumption of the colonial history between the two countries before the First World War. Due to this difficulty, the TIAA encounter organically shifted my cause of focus toward East Africans’ routes to higher education overseas, more so the famous “Kennedy Airlift Program.” I will unveil the political turmoil that came to conjure “The Kennedy Airlift Program” which brought hundreds of students from East Africa from 1959 to 1963 in the North American higher education institutions, and will further look at the decolonization interventions and beneficiaries of this “golden era.”

International scholarship architecture emerged about a century ago. It reached its golden age during the Cold War with the introduction of multinational programs designed to promote US-American and Soviet political and economic models. Among the greatest beneficiaries of this “golden age” were students from colonized and formerly colonized countries, many of whom were African. According to E. Burton, in the 1950s, African students increasingly started attending universities outside the colonial metropolis and its imperial realm.¹ Several factors led to this shift, including a new wave of independence movements in African countries, greater educational opportunities at the metropole, and the abolishment of colonial restrictions. Eradicating colonial restrictions allowed African students greater freedom to choose where they could pursue higher education. This newfound mobility enabled them to explore diverse academic environments and benefit from different educational systems beyond the colonial influence. As a result, students could gain broader perspectives and valuable skills for their home countries’ development. A few years later, African students began seeking the golden fleece around the globe. As Burton notes, the first African students entered seminar rooms and lecture halls in the United States and the Soviet Union, in West and East Germany, in Yugoslavia and Scandinavia, in China, and other socialist countries, as dozens, then hundreds, and eventually tens of thousands followed suit. Countries such as India, Ghana, Egypt, and Ethiopia also turned into both important host and sending states in these circulations.²

Studying abroad was interpreted as a strategy for students to show employers that they possessed skills that are desirable in the labor market, an acquisition of which they were willing to incur the costs of completing a stay abroad to increase productivity and thus allow them to receive higher wages on the labor market.³ This phenomenon of overseas studies as a countermeasure for career mitigation still exists, particularly among the global southern nations.

Historically, aspirations to attend universities reflected both the symbolic capital of university degrees as well as new dynamics of decolonization. According to Kenyan historian and U.S. airlift beneficiary Mutu Gethoi, those who did not meet academic requirements for university were “finished.” It was either you became a teacher, or a policeman, or you worked in the postal service or railways. Such restricted prospects were unsatisfactory for many. In Dar es Salaam, Tanganyika (Tanzania), for instance, students sent the Public Works Department a letter of resignation, stating that they refused to be trained in a way that would allow them to provide cheap labor to engineers who were all non-African at the time.⁴ The students wanted to pursue their own careers and felt that their labor was being exploited by the Public Works Department. The students’ letter sparked a movement that would lead to greater rights for African workers. However, considering the limited educational opportunities in the region, African youths and politicians looked for education in countries other than the colonial metropolis. The role of African actors in particular influenced the way educational mobility works to broader processes. There was a vital role for non-state initiatives in enhancing the “repertory of migration,” which is the range of destinations, practices, and customs of mobility, which are influenced by the political, economic, and legal frameworks in place.⁵ The acquisition of a university degree therefore clung to assurance of substitution of high-level European officials by Africans. This need for Africans who are capable of taking responsible posts was a soft tactic in the replacement of colonial staff. Overseas education immediately became a matter of decolonization considering the expulsion of politically subversive students from public or mission schools.

Ideally, students pick their study abroad locations based on the quality of education the host country provides, and the resources the universities offer.⁶ In addition to the subject matter, the language of the course is important. English-speaking countries, such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, are among the most popular destinations for international students. Proficiency in English opens up numerous academic and professional opportunities, allowing students to access a wealth of resources and networks. Furthermore, many prestigious universities offer courses in English, attracting students seeking high-quality education. All this falls under “pull factors” motivations, based on the division of “pull factors” and “push factors” analogy by the Polish sociologist Krystyna Slany. A “pull factor” refers to what attracts an individual to the destination country: better educational opportunities, a beautiful city, and a partner living abroad are some examples. A “push” factor is the absence of a university that provides education in a specific field of study that drives an individual out of their country of origin. In some migration theories, exchange students are classified as proactive immigrants.⁷ The push factors reveal the key motivations of the East African students’ pursuit of higher education.

Historically, scholars have explained the diversification of destinations and the increase of overseas students from Africa, as the result of three interrelated processes, which Burton describes as follows: Cold War rivalries, decolonization policy responses, and educational planning in the 1950s and 1960s as a modernization and development tool. During the Cold War, superpowers and smaller states discovered that educating “Third World” elites was a major field of cultural diplomacy. Khrushchev’s Destalinization drive in the late 1950s launched a charm offensive to weave new ties with anti-colonial movements and newly independent countries. As Western nations without colonial possessions joined the competitive scramble for incumbent elites, colonial powers ramped up their own scholarship programs. By the 1960s, educational programs had become an international standard. Some international development agencies provided funding for them, which was incorporated into the development plans of newly decolonized countries.⁸

The colonial authorities intended to prevent further radicalization of anti-colonial struggles through returnees. Any subversive literature like e.g. Das Kapital (Capital) and Das kommunistische Manifest (The Communist Manifesto) by Karl Max (and Friedrich Engels) found in the possession of returning students and activists was confiscated by immigration authorities. The awareness of travel to communist states in the late 1950s sparked aggravation and unrest within the colonial authorities. Even with attempts to prohibit Africans from leaving the continent to the Eastern Bloc, lots of Africans had already enrolled in Higher Education Institutions (HEIs) or vocational institutions beyond the Iron Curtain. Out of fear of communist subversion and disruption of government interests, colonial and post-colonial governments both discouraged and deterred eastbound expeditions.⁹ By 1960, the U.S. government had provided large batches of scholarships to African countries – a move that was only possible because of Cold War rivalries. Another incentive was the scramble for African American votes in the 1960s presidential campaign. The colonial governments’ second thoughts in its colonies were incited by the fact that the movement towards the North and East seemed incontrollable unless scholarships were offered. Assistance from Iron Curtain nations had tremendously increased their support, including an apparent 2,000 study grants for Kenyans alone. However, it is believed that many of those who travelled through the “Nile route” to avoid being detected by colonial authorities did not reach their expected destination, in contrast to most of the East Africans supported through the airlifts to North America who successfully took up college or university studies.

A significant westward movement occurred between 1959 and 1961 when hundreds of East African students were airlifted to the United States and Canada. This movement was a result of a combination of Kenyan communities and nationalists including activist and later statesman Tom Mboya as well as philanthropic foundations, universities, Pan-African leaders, and civil society activists in the United States. The airlift was the brainchild of Mboya who at that time worked as a city sanitation inspector in Nairobi and was also active in the local workers’ union, through which he gained prominence in the political arena.¹⁰

As part of a British Labour Party education grant, Mboya had attended Ruskin College Oxford, England in 1955. His subsequent attempts to get similar grants for other African leaders were unreceptive to the colonial government. As a result, Mboya traveled west, to US-America.¹¹ Mboya’s American connection began in 1956 while on a labor union trip to the U.S. It gradually intensified over the years. According to him, his connection was meant to serve Africans struggling against British rule in Kenya.

During his time in the U.S., Mboya managed to persuade American businessmen to sponsor Kenyan African students to attend American colleges. Within a few months of that year, William X. Scheinman, an American industrialist, and Frank Montero, a real estate entrepreneur, squared the fares of seventeen Kenyan students. It was as a result of Mboya’s earlier contacts with him. Due to Mboya’s rise to prominence at home and popularity among US-Americans, the British colonial regime regarded him as their number one enemy. According to Prof. Frederick Okatcha, former lecturer in educational psychology at the University of Nairobi: “The British spread propaganda that American education was not good.” Before his studies, Okatcha had worked for the Kisumu Ministry of Works as a mail clerk.¹²

Financially, there were some cases in which relatives sold their land or accumulated debts. Additionally, many candidates raised funds through fundraising campaigns, tea parties, and Harambee (“let’s pull together”) parties, which were usually organized by local politicians and trade unionists. In other words, airlifts resulted from complex interactions and mobilization of local and regional resources, not just from Cold War rivalries. In experiencing such collective crowd fundraising events, with donations coming from the elderly and young children with as little as pence, shillings, and sometimes chicken eggs to be auctioned, this convinced official US delegates in 1960 of the “reverence these people showed for education.” Further evolution of airlifts was then formed under the Kennedy administration based on the reports captured by the delegates. With this, the airlifts to some degree neutralized the complex interrelations between politicians, activist networks, and ordinary Kenyans, Burton writes.¹³ Frederick Okatcha, a PhD holder from Michigan State University, received grants from the African American Student Foundation (AASF), the African American Institute, and the Philip Stokes Fund. “Some were lucky and got more money, but others suffered”, says Okatcha.¹⁴ Consequently, students had to work casual jobs during their long summer holidays. According to Gethoi, he moonlighted wherever he took his bicycle, including selling ice cream. In addition, Prof Maitha cut grass and cleaned floors at the university during the semester to earn meals and lodging.¹⁵

There were comparatively many females involved in airlifts, mostly young, unmarried secondary school leavers, who were neither on official colonial routes nor on secret trajectories that had minimal assistance and planning as Burton points out. Roughly one-fifth of all airlifters in 1959, and one-quarter in 1960, were women, including sociologist Pamela Odede who later became the wife of Tom Mboya, and Wangari Maathai, the first African woman to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004 for her contribution to sustainable development, democracy and peace.¹⁶

This is higher than the percentage of female secondary school graduates in East Africa, where both parents and authorities favored boys’ education. This illustrates the gendered dimension of the barriers to higher education. It is believed the unusual gender ratio was deliberate, although efforts were made by the airlift program associates led by Mboya to pick more women to breach the formal standard of education. Most of the students had never been on an airplane and had never left Kenya, and therefore I believe they had no idea what they were getting into, but this also shows they were brave, adventurously, and highly motivated. One well-known beneficiary of the 1959 airlifters is Barack Obama senior, father of former U.S. President Barack Obama, who joined the University of Hawaii. It is believed that Obama senior was not on the airlift list, but a beneficiary of the good will of US-Americans towards African students obtaining funds through different private sources including the African American Student Foundation and AASF.¹⁷

There were, however, also large numbers of students who had decided for an education in, at the time, Eastern Bloc countries. Yet Hundreds of foreign students in the early 1960s left the Eastern Bloc countries even before the end of their studies. Around 1962, West German media began reporting about a new type of refugee. The registration of the so-called “Eastern Bloc refugees from developing countries” or “student refugees” (“Flüchtlingsstudenten”) was growing in large numbers. In 1964, there were 736 fleeing students registered in West Germany, the majority of which are considered to be from sub-Saharan Africa. Reasons for leaving the Eastern Bloc, especially among the African students, mainly was as a result of resentment regarding racism, shortages of consumer goods, disciplinary expectations, and the denial of the right of political self-organization. Upon arrival in West Germany, government officials assumed most of the arrivals had failed examinations and/or were unsatisfied with the standards of living, and academic aspirations. Although the authorities wanted to capture promising elites, they also considered them as educationally degrading and needed re-education.¹⁸ These remarks expressed anxiety and racist notions about the phenomenon of migration politics.

I assume that some of the HFBK Hamburg African students especially in the 1960s might have been part of the so-called student refugees from the Eastern Bloc and studied art as a fallback plan due to the brain drain caused by German authorities’ measures against the influx of the frustrated foreign students migrating from the iron curtain. If this is the case, then it would settle my curiosity about some of these students’ choice to study art in HFBK Hamburg in the 1960s and the probability of lack of their string of art activities due to changes in career trajectories upon returning home.