
In a conversation with my senior [graduation] computer science students from the Malawi University of Science and Technology, who are working with us from the Kwathu Innovation & Creative Centre in Mangochi, I found myself asking different kinds of questions.
I had just landed in Malawi, briefly visiting to be present with my family for my mother’s tombstone unveiling as I am enroute to Kenya with the Rockefeller Foundation.
Be that I was in Mangochi, I, of course, had to meet my students.
Noel – one of the brilliant techies we are working with, made a comment on how MUST has some really GREAT programmes: training BioMedical Engineers, engineers that have no relevance to our present day hospitals.
That was a lightbulb moment for me, and a chance for us to go back to the very beginning.
I asked a simple question:
Why does your university exist?
At first, the answers were vague.
It exists to train students.
To fill skills gaps.
To prepare people for the workforce.
These are reasonable answers, but they are not specific enough to explain outcomes.
So I pushed further.
Why was it established? What was it meant to do?
That is when the conversation shifted. Siphat responded:
It was Bingu’s Vision

Delve into Business and International Development with Nthanda Manduwi
After a month of living in the city, I attended a Detroit Economic Growth Corporation event where the City of Detroit was awards 13 businesses with grants amounting to $300,000.
The room was filled with founders, policymakers, and ecosystem builders gathered around a shared objective: increasing the probability that companies are built and sustained here.
I really like how the City of Detroit is approaching their entrepreneurship programming. It is quite deliberate: municipal grants, residency stipends, coworking access, and roles like Director of Entrepreneurship are all designed to reduce friction and create density.
As someone who is both an entrepreneur and a policy analyst, I find myself more than curious. From the inside, the strategy feels coherent. Capital is being deployed, networks are forming, and leadership is aligned around making Detroit competitive for builders.
But the city reveals itself differently once you leave that room. Moving through Detroit with the Director of Youth Affairs, Jerjuan Howard, the layers begin to separate.
Institutional support, ecosystem energy, and neighborhood reality do not fully overlap—they operate in parallel. Jerjuan’s work—through debate programs, public space, and the Howard Family Bookstore—exists at the level where rebuilding becomes physical and immediate.
His question at the end of the day to me,“Do you plan to stay?” left me reflecting on what I hope to gain from and give to Detroit.
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The Malawi University of Science and Technology was not created arbitrarily. It was established through Act of Parliament No. 31 of 2012 and opened in 2014 with a clear mandate:
to promote the development, adaptation, and application of science, technology, and innovation for Malawi’s economic transformation.
That mandate reflects a specific way of thinking about development.
In The African Dream, Bingu wa Mutharika argues that national progress requires more than aspiration. It requires a defined pathway—a map that translates vision into institutions, systems, and outcomes.
Seen through this lens, MUST was not simply a university. It was an instrument within a broader developmental design. It was meant to produce the human capital required for a future that he had already imagined.
This model is not unique.
Across successful development trajectories, education systems are aligned with economic strategy. Technical training corresponds to industry needs. Universities evolve alongside sectors capable of absorbing their graduates. Skills are produced in response to systems that either exist or are being intentionally built.
This alignment is what gives education its function.
Without it, education produces knowledge. With it, education produces capability.
The distinction is structural.
The challenge emerges when that alignment weakens.
Institutions do not disappear when the vision that created them fades. They continue to operate. Students enroll. Degrees are awarded. From the outside, the system appears intact.
But internally, the connection begins to break.
What was once a coordinated process—vision, institution, human capital, economic output—becomes fragmented. Each component continues to function, but no longer in relation to the others.
This is the condition I encountered.
The example of biomedical engineers made it clear. Training exists, but the system that would make that training productive does not. The issue is not the degree. It is not the students. It is the absence of alignment with the broader economic system. In truth, all parts of the system had to work, for the University to make sense in ernst.
This pattern extends beyond a single example.
Recent data shows that more than half of young Malawians are unemployed and actively seeking work, while only a small proportion are engaged in stable employment. At the same time, young people consistently report a mismatch between what they are taught and what the labor market requires. Employers, on the other side, report rising costs associated with retraining graduates who arrive without immediately deployable capability.
These signals point to a system that continues to produce graduates, but without a structure capable of absorbing and utilizing them effectively.
This is not a question of coordination.
Over time, this misalignment produces a specific outcome.
Students move through technically defined programs—computer science, engineering, cybersecurity—yet remain unable to situate themselves within the industries those fields are meant to serve, because those industries have not yet been formalized. They acquire fragments of skill without a clear sense of how those skills connect to a broader system.
This is not a reflection of their ability.
It is a reflection of the system they are operating within.
Without clear reference points, individuals default to what is immediately visible and rational. Financial independence becomes the dominant goal. Small-scale enterprise becomes the most tangible pathway. The horizon narrows, not because ambition is absent, but because direction is unclear.
This is what a system looks like when it continues to produce without knowing why.
What is missing in my opinion is not effort, but orientation.
A North Star, in this context, is a structural mechanism. It defines the relationship between where a system is and where it is intended to go. It allows institutions to align with economic trajectory and individuals to position themselves within it.
Without it, both levels fragment.
Education continues, but without clear purpose. Skills are developed, but without direction. Effort is expended, but without a coherent pathway.
It is tempting to respond by focusing on skills—more training, more exposure, more programs.
But increased access to education does not automatically translate into improved economic outcomes. Malawi’s younger population is more educated than previous generations, yet employment outcomes remain constrained.
This suggests that the issue is not simply one of supply.
Skills do not create opportunity on their own. They require systems that can absorb them, infrastructure that can support them, and markets that can reward them.
Without that, increasing skill levels does not resolve the problem. It reproduces it.
In that room, I asked the interns to define their North Star. To identify who they want to be, the industries they want to operate in, and the skills required to get there.
This does not solve systemic misalignment.
But it reintroduces structure at the individual level. It connects ambition, awareness, and capability. It shifts participation in education from passive to intentional.
The broader question remains.
How do you realign a system once its original direction has weakened? How do you reconnect institutions to a coherent economic trajectory? How do you ensure that the capabilities being produced correspond to systems that actually exist—or are being built?
These are not questions that can be solved within education alone. They require coordination across policy, infrastructure, and industry. They require clarity about where the system is going.
Without that clarity, institutions will continue to function.
They will continue to produce.
But they will not produce in alignment with a defined future.
The issue is not that people lack skills.
It is that the systems designed to produce those skills have lost their alignment with a defined trajectory.
MUST was established as part of a deliberate attempt to build that alignment. That intent remains visible.
What is less visible is the continuity of that vision.
And without continuity, systems do not fail immediately.
They drift.
Reintroducing a North Star is not conceptual.
It is structural.
And it is where the work begins.
If you’d like to go deeper into my journey — from Malawi, through the United Nations to Microsoft, you can find it in my books.
P.S. for 2026, you can get any of my books via Kindle for only $2.99.
This offer is valid till the end of the year.
Links to purchase are as below: