The Teachers Service Commission announced that all secondary school principals and their deputies must now hold a master’s degree in a relevant field, while primary school headteachers and their deputies are required to be degree holders. Suddenly, years of practical experience seemed secondary to academic paperwork, leaving experienced leaders questioning the value of decades of service and dedication.
For decades, headteachers and principals across Kenya have devoted their lives to schools. They managed classrooms, mentored teachers, resolved conflicts, and ensured that students received quality education, often under challenging circumstances and with limited resources. They carried the weight of entire communities on their shoulders, quietly shaping futures with dedication and care. Yet in September 2025, many of these seasoned administrators were struck with a bitter sense of betrayal.
For some, this policy evoked painful memories of the past. In 1988, all government departments, including education, implemented a sweeping downgrading of departmental heads who lacked degrees. The reasoning was simple: there were now many graduates in certain fields, and experience alone was no longer considered sufficient. Those who had built careers on competence and dedication were sidelined, while younger, less experienced officers with the right academic paperwork were handed portfolios they barely understood. Ironically, many of these newcomers had to learn the work from their juniors, the very individuals they were now tasked to lead.
ALSO READ;
Litein Girls High School closed indefinitely following possible unrest
A decade later, in the 1990s, another episode further illustrates the human cost of placing paper qualifications above experience. Diploma holders who had been serving in high schools were reassigned back to primary schools, often feeling out of place and disoriented in the new environment. Many became the subjects of ridicule among colleagues and learners alike, struggling to adjust to schools they had not anticipated returning to. Their skills, expertise, and experience were undervalued, leaving them demoralized and socially isolated. Teachers who once commanded respect suddenly found themselves laughed at or questioned for their ability to manage younger pupils, even though they had decades of classroom and administrative experience. These historical precedents feed a lingering sense of injustice among today’s administrators, who fear a similar fate under the new master’s and degree requirements.
Across the country today, similar stories quietly unfold. In a rural secondary school, a principal who has spent over twenty years managing tight budgets and mentoring dozens of teachers now pores over textbooks and research journals late into the night, struggling to meet the master’s degree requirement. Each completed assignment brings a mix of pride and exhaustion, as she balances coursework with the daily demands of the school. In another primary school, a headteacher who once led a vibrant, well-disciplined school finds himself humbled by new academic expectations. He sits in front of a laptop, navigating online lectures and unfamiliar academic jargon, while recalling decades of lessons, staff meetings, and student successes. His colleagues observe him quietly, some offering encouragement, others uncertain how to interact with someone whose formal authority is simultaneously recognized and challenged by policy.
In yet another school, a deputy headteacher, known for deftly resolving staff disputes and improving classroom performance, now finds herself learning research methodology from younger teachers who hold the “right” qualifications. Despite her experience, she must follow the academic guidance of juniors, blending humility with determination to complete her degree. The learners in her school, aware of her expertise, continue to seek her guidance, even as formal structures shift around her. These vignettes are not isolated; they echo across towns and villages, revealing the personal struggles behind the statistics, the silent determination of administrators trying to reconcile experience with formal requirements.
The current policy has compounded these challenges. Many experienced administrators, especially in rural areas, lack the financial resources, time, or access to pursue degree or master’s programs. Even for those who can enroll, academic programs often emphasize theory, research, and policy analysis, while school leadership requires practical skills: managing tight budgets, resolving staff conflicts, mentoring teachers, and engaging parents and the community. A degree alone cannot fully prepare administrators for these complex, day-to-day responsibilities, leaving many principals and headteachers feeling undervalued and overlooked.
The consequences extend beyond the administrators themselves. When seasoned leaders are replaced or sidelined by less experienced colleagues with the right qualifications, school dynamics often shift in ironic and challenging ways. New leaders may lack the practical knowledge required to manage daily operations effectively, relying heavily on guidance from juniors, the very staff they are supposed to lead. Staff members, support workers, and learners notice these shifts, often continuing to respect the former principal or headteacher for their knowledge, experience, and dedication. This creates a complex environment of admiration mixed with tension, as formal authority and practical competence do not always align.
The human cost is profound. Principals and headteachers who have devoted decades to education now face uncertainty, anxiety, and disillusionment. Many watch as younger, less experienced colleagues ascend into positions of authority simply because they have the “right” paperwork, while their own years of service seem overlooked. The sense of betrayal is heightened by the perception that dedication, loyalty, and practical competence are being undervalued. Yet despite the frustrations, the respect of staff and learners often endures, marking former leaders as symbols of resilience and commitment.
Despite these challenges, the policy could yield positive outcomes if implemented thoughtfully. Flexible learning pathways, including online or part-time master’s programs, could allow administrators to pursue higher qualifications without compromising their work. The government can also step in to partly sponsor these courses, reducing the financial burden and making access to higher education equitable, particularly for those in rural or under-resourced areas. Recognition of prior experience and practical achievements should complement academic qualifications, ensuring administrators are evaluated holistically rather than solely on paper credentials. Postgraduate programs should integrate practical leadership modules tailored to address the realities of school management, resource constraints, and community engagement.
ALSO READ;
Gov’t should revolutionize adult literacy, expand reach to rural areas
The master’s degree requirement for secondary school leaders and the degree requirement for primary school headteachers and deputies underscore a longstanding tension in Kenya’s public service: the clash between formal academic qualifications and real-world experience. Without careful planning and supportive measures, the policy risks repeating historical mistakes, alienating experienced administrators, and undermining the professionalization it seeks to achieve. But with thoughtful implementation, recognition of prior service, government sponsorship, and a focus on practical leadership, it could strengthen school leadership across the country, benefiting teachers, learners, and communities alike.
Ultimately, this policy should not be seen as a punishment or judgment against experience, but as an opportunity to elevate professional standards while honoring the dedication of those who have long carried the burden of running Kenya’s schools. By blending academic achievement with practical competence, and by supporting administrators to access further education, the system can ensure its leaders are both qualified on paper and capable of guiding schools effectively, inspiring staff, and nurturing generations of learners. In doing so, Kenya can create a school leadership system that respects experience, values dedication, and equips its leaders with the knowledge and skills necessary for the modern educational landscape.
By Hillary Muhalya
You can also follow our social media pages on Twitter: Education News KE and Facebook: Education News Newspaper for timely updates.
>>> Click here to stay up-to-date with trending regional stories
>>> Click here to read more informed opinions on the country’s education landscape
