The Silent Struggle of Part-Time Lecturers at the Technical University of Mombasa*

By Reporter

When Mr. Ben Onyango (not his real name) accepted a part-time lecturing position at the Technical University of Mombasa (TUM), he did so with optimism, dedication, and the deep belief that education remains one of the most powerful tools for change.

Like many academicians, he saw the opportunity not just as a job, but as a calling, a chance to equip young minds along Kenya’s coast with the skills and knowledge for the future.

He delivered his lectures dutifully and faithfully. He set the exams. He marked the scripts and submitted results on time.

Today, the students he taught have already graduated. Some are working in industries across Mombasa County and beyond. Others have proceeded to further studies. Their academic journey at TUM is complete.

*Waiting to be paid*

But for Mr. Onyango, the journey is not. Months later, he is still waiting to be paid.

His experience reflects a deeper and disturbing reality within Kenya’s public university system- including institutions as vital as the Technical University of Mombasa.

Across faculties and departments, part-time lecturers – many of them highly qualified with masters and doctoral degrees continue to wait, sometimes in silence, for payment for services already rendered.

“We are treated like volunteers, yet our work is critical to the university’s survival,” says one part-time lecturer from the School of Engineering, who requested anonymity for fear of victimization. “When full-time staff are overwhelmed, they call us. When it’s time to pay us, they disappear.”

They teach in crowded classrooms. They prepare lesson plans. They supervise projects, mark assessments, and sit in departmental meetings. In every sense, they perform the same academic functions as full-time lecturers – only without the job security and dignity of timely compensation.

Another lecturer from the School of Business shared a similar experience.

“I used my own money for transport to and from the university for an entire semester,” the lecturer says. “I taught, examined students, marked scripts — and up to now, nothing has been paid. It’s humiliating having to beg for money you’ve already worked for.”

*Excuses for not paying*

Payment delays ranging from several months to over a year have, for many, become the norm. Excuses such as ‘budget constraints’, ‘system failures’, and ‘pending approvals’ are common responses from the administration.

But for the lecturers, those explanations mean little when rent is due, school fees need to be paid, and basic household needs must be met.

“One time I was told my 2023 payment ‘got lost in the system,” recalls a lecturer in the Applied Sciences department. “How does an entire human being’s labour just get lost?”

The irony is difficult to ignore.

The Technical University of Mombasa prides itself on training competent professionals -engineers, technologists, communicators, and innovators. Its motto “Endeavor and Achieve” reflects excellence, discipline, and integrity. Yet behind the lecture halls and graduation ceremonies lies a silent workforce that feels invisible, exploited, and forgotten.

For many part-time lecturers, this is not supplementary income; it is essential income.

“I’m a single parent,” one lecturer quietly admits. “That money was meant for my child’s school fees. Now I’m in debt because of work I did for a public institution.”

The emotional and psychological impact is as heavy as the financial burden. Frustration turns into anxiety. Dedication is replaced with emotional burnout. Passion for teaching begins to fade.

What message does this send to young scholars who aspire to join academia? How many bright minds are being discouraged from teaching because of a broken system?

Mr. Onyango continues to believe in the power of education. He still hopes that the institution he served will eventually honour its commitment. But hope, no matter how strong, cannot buy food, pay rent, or clear debts.

Until institutions like the Technical University of Mombasa adopt fair, transparent, and humane policies for remunerating part-time staff, the stories of Mr. Onyango and countless others will continue to reflect a silent crisis in higher education; a crisis happening in plain sight.

And perhaps the greatest tragedy of all is this: Those who shape the future are being forgotten by the present