CONTRIBUTORS
Alvin Joseph Kimani
Policy and Advocacy Officer
Africa’s education systems are brimming with potential. Classrooms are full, ambitions are high, and research institutions like the African Population and Health Research Center (APHRC) continue to generate powerful insights on how to make learning more effective, equitable, and impactful. Yet despite the evidence, the decisions that shape classrooms and curricula often follow a very different path — one that’s anything but linear or rational.
To understand why evidence so often struggles to inform policy, we must first confront a reality that many in public policy are aware of but few acknowledge: decision-making, especially in large, complex bureaucracies such as ministries of education, is often messy, reactive, and unpredictable. One of the most insightful ways to understand this is through the Garbage Can Model of Policy Making, a concept introduced in the 1970s by organizational theorists Cohen, March, and Olsen.
According to this model, policy decisions don’t always result from a structured sequence of identifying problems, researching solutions, and choosing the best option. Instead, decisions happen when four independent streams — problems, solutions, participants, and opportunities — accidentally collide. Picture a garbage can filled with different scraps: a policy problem floating in one corner, a pre-packaged solution tossed in from somewhere else, a decision-maker entering the scene last minute. When the contents of the can align just right, out comes a policy decision — whether or not it’s the optimal one.
This model perfectly describes how many education policies in Africa are made. For example, the rollout of digital learning platforms during COVID-19 seemed like an innovative response to school closures. But in many cases, it wasn’t backed by infrastructure, training, or evidence of what works in low-resource contexts. It was a solution in search of a quick-fix — adopted because it was available and politically attractive, not because it was proven.
The same can be said for curriculum reforms such as the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC) in Kenya. Introduced to address long-standing concerns about rote learning and poor learning outcomes, the CBC represents a significant shift. But its implementation has been dogged by confusion, inadequate teacher preparation, and limited consensus among stakeholders. The evidence base supporting the transition was thin, and many decisions were made before meaningful engagement with research evidence or educators could happen.
Why does this keep happening? One reason is misaligned timelines. Policy windows open suddenly — due to elections, legacy, crises, or donor pressure — and only the most accessible ideas make it through. Research, on the other hand, often moves slowly. By the time a study is published, the window may have closed. This points to a lack of a rapid response process to a policy window.
Another reason is that evidence often arrives uninvited. Researchers may produce excellent studies, but without sustained engagement with decision-makers, their work may never reach the right desks — or may arrive too late, too technical, or too disconnected from political realities to matter.
This doesn’t mean that change is impossible. In fact, it’s an urgent call to action for research institutions. If organizations like APHRC want to see their work truly shape policy, we must rethink how we engage the policy process.
It starts by co-producing research with the very people who will use it — ministries, teachers, unions, and curriculum developers. When stakeholders are involved from the beginning, they’re more likely to trust and apply the findings. It also means having “policy-ready” outputs — not just academic papers, but short, accessible briefs and talking points tailored for fast-moving decision moments. For co-creation to work better, the policy audience should shield research from rent-seeking behaviour among their ranks.
Moreover, we must stop waiting to be invited. APHRC and others must actively shape the policy agenda, using strategic communication, public engagement, and storytelling to elevate evidence into public conversations. We must also track how our evidence moves (or stalls) within government systems, learning from both uptake and resistance.
Critically, we need to build bridges between researchers and policymakers — not just at conferences, but through long-term partnerships, technical advisory roles, and fellowships that place researchers inside government offices, where real-time decisions are made; and technocrats inside research institutions where evidence is generated.
Because if we don’t take these steps, we risk watching good evidence go to waste, tossed into a policy garbage that rewards speed over substance and politics over people.
At APHRC, we believe education policy should be deliberate, inclusive, and anchored in locally generated evidence. African learners deserve more than policy by accident. They deserve policy by design — informed by research, shaped by local realities, and driven by the vision of a better, more equitable education system for all.