19/07/2025
Those who have ears, let them hear!
*What sayest thou* đ¤
*KNUST and the Death of Applied Knowledge: A National Embarrassment in Full View*
By Kwame Sowu, Entrepreneur
16 July 2025 9:32am
Whenever I drive through some of our public universities, particularly those outside Accra, I am struck by a disturbing contradiction: these institutions with large populations, located in regions rich in raw materials and surrounded by skilled artisans and small-scale industries, remain visibly underdeveloped, deprived, and utterly dependent. They do not produce much for themselves, and worse, they do not seem to see the need to.
Let us take the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST), Ghanaâs premier institution for science, technology, and innovation. With over 85,000 students, sprawling departments in engineering, applied sciences, art, agriculture, and architecture, and a location in the craft and industry-rich Ashanti region, one would expect this university to be a hotbed of functional innovation, a self-sustaining ecosystem, and a driver of local economic transformation.
Instead, what we see is a glorified certificate factory whose graduates walk past the very problems they were trained to solve because their own institution cannot model the solutions.
How can a university that trains all kinds of engineers, architects, designers, and building technologists be grappling with accommodation crises? Why are thousands of students forced to compete with local residents for housing and transport when the university has land, manpower, material knowledge, and the country's top brains?
It is beyond disappointing. It is a national embarrassment.
Imagine this. Eighty-five thousand students wake up every morning, brush their teeth, eat from plates, sit on furniture, wear clothes, and ride buses to class, and yet none of these everyday items is made by the universityâs own departments. Not the toothbrush from its polymer lab. Not the beds from its woodwork studios. Not the fabric from the Textiles Department. Not even the cups from the ceramics section of the College of Art. Instead, the university outsources everything to the open market, when it could teach its students to produce and sell.
And what about the College of Art? A department that should be pulsing with creativity, enterprise, and innovation now hangs like a dry, brittle branch, barely connected to the tree, producing nothing of real economic value.
The irony is brutal. Even if this college only produced ceramic crockery for the university community, it could turn over 25 million cedis annually. Another 25 million could be generated if the school simply required students to wear clothing made from fabric produced by the Textiles Department, not as punishment, but as proof of value creation and pride in self-reliance.
We have not even discussed the proximity of KNUST to the Building and Road Research Institute (BRRI) at Fumesua, a facility that should be collaborating with the university daily to pioneer housing innovations and low-cost student accommodations and for the larger surrounding communities. Instead, these two entities exist in parallel universes, their potential synergy wasted year after year.
So I ask. If a university that possesses every tool needed to fix its own problems cannot do so, how can it be trusted to solve national problems?
It is not a rhetorical question. It is the very crux of our underdevelopment.
Ghana will continue to train millions of students at great cost, yet remain stuck in poverty, inefficiency, and borrowed thinking. Not because we lack resources or brains, but because we refuse to connect the dots. We treat knowledge as decoration, not as a tool for transformation. We run our universities like paper mills instead of live laboratories of national change.
It is disgraceful. And it must change.
Until KNUST and other institutions like it begin to live what they teach, Ghana will continue to produce graduates who are experts in theory and helpless in practice, brilliant in PowerPoint but irrelevant on the ground.
And the cost of this failure is no longer academic. It is existential.
