ADVERT 
ADVERTThe Masengeli-USIU dispute offers Kenya a timely opportunity to examine a fundamental principle of higher education: academic qualifications and honours must be insulated from influence, status and considerations unrelated to the standards governing their award.
A university degree is more than a certificate.
It is an institutional assurance that a candidate has satisfied requirements established by the university and, where applicable, by the relevant regulatory framework. A doctoral degree carries an especially significant academic claim: that the holder has completed advanced study and research and satisfied the institution’s requirements for doctoral-level work.
That is why universities must protect the integrity of the processes through which degrees are earned and honorary distinctions are conferred.
The ongoing dispute between Deputy Inspector-General of Police Gilbert Masengeli and United States International University-Africa (USIU-Africa) brings that responsibility into sharp focus.
ADVERTIt is important, however, not to read more into the case than the current legal record permits.
The proceedings do not, at this stage, establish that Masengeli sought preferential treatment because of his position. They also do not establish that USIU-Africa acted improperly or under external influence.
What is established is that there is a dispute concerning the completion and processing of the requirements for his PhD in International Relations and his eligibility for the university’s September 26, 2026 graduation.
That distinction is essential.
Masengeli enrolled in the PhD programme in September 2021. According to the case he presented to the High Court, he completed his coursework and examinations before progressing to the dissertation stage. He says he defended his dissertation proposal in December 2025, obtained the necessary approvals, undertook the subsequent research process and submitted his dissertation for examination.
He contends that he had complied with the requirements communicated to him and that the dispute concerned the university’s administrative handling of his academic progression rather than the academic merits of his dissertation.
USIU-Africa disputes that position.
The university maintains that all mandatory requirements for graduation had not been completed and that Masengeli therefore could not properly be included in the September graduation cohort. Its position, as reported in the proceedings, concerns the prescribed academic and institutional steps that must precede graduation.
Those competing positions remain matters for determination through the appropriate processes.
The High Court’s September 16 decision should consequently be understood narrowly.
Justice Patricia Mande declined an application seeking, among other relief, orders that would have stopped the university’s September 26 graduation. The court considered that such an order could adversely affect other students who were not parties to the litigation. The judge also found that the material presented did not establish a specific promise by the university or the supervisor that Masengeli would graduate with that particular cohort.
The dismissal of that interlocutory application did not, on the material presently available, amount to a final judicial determination of the underlying academic dispute.
The substantive petition remains pending, with further procedural directions scheduled for October 21, 2026.
That distinction should be respected.
A court declining to stop a graduation ceremony is not the same thing as a court deciding that a candidate has failed academically. Equally, the existence of a pending dispute should not be presented as proof that a university has improperly withheld a qualification.
Those are separate questions.
But the controversy nevertheless raises a legitimate institutional issue: how should universities protect academic standards when dealing with people who hold considerable public or private influence?
The answer should be straightforward.
The same academic requirements should apply regardless of the identity of the candidate.
A senior police officer should neither receive preferential treatment nor face a disadvantage because of his office.
A politician should neither be fast-tracked nor delayed because of political considerations.
A wealthy benefactor should not acquire an academic qualification through institutional generosity.
And an ordinary student should not be left wondering whether academic rules are more flexible for people with greater influence.
This is not a judgment about the Masengeli proceedings.
It is a principle that should govern universities generally.
A credible institution should be able to demonstrate that its academic decisions are based on established requirements, properly constituted academic processes and evidence of academic achievement.
Where there is a dispute, both the institution and the student should be able to identify the applicable rules and the precise point at which they disagree.
That protects everyone.
It protects the university from allegations of arbitrary decision-making.
It protects students from preferential treatment by others.
And it protects influential students from being judged by assumptions about their position rather than by their academic work.
The issue becomes even more important when considering honorary degrees.
An earned doctoral degree and an honorary doctorate are fundamentally different forms of recognition.
An earned PhD is an academic qualification awarded after completion of a prescribed programme and fulfilment of the applicable academic requirements.
An honorary doctorate is a distinction conferred in recognition of achievement or service.
Kenya’s Commission for University Education standards expressly distinguish honoris causa degrees from academic degrees. The standards describe an honorary degree as recognition for outstanding achievement and distinguished contribution in areas including scholarship, creativity, leadership, humanitarian work and public service.
The regulatory framework also provides safeguards intended to promote objectivity and fairness in the selection of honorary-degree recipients. It contemplates institutional nomination and consideration through academic structures before approval by the university Council, together with vetting and a public citation setting out the achievements for which the honour is being conferred.
Those safeguards should not be regarded as bureaucratic formalities.
They are part of what gives an honorary degree its credibility.
A university should therefore be able to explain why a particular individual has been honoured without relying primarily on the individual’s office, wealth, political connections, institutional relationships or capacity to benefit the university.
The question should always be:
What exceptional contribution is being recognised?
If the answer is public service, the record should demonstrate the service.
If it is scholarship, the scholarship should be identifiable.
If it is humanitarian work, the contribution should be demonstrable.
If it is leadership, the institution should be able to explain the nature and significance of that leadership.
The honour should follow the achievement, not the influence.
This does not mean that public officials should be excluded from honorary recognition. They should not.
A public official can make an exceptional contribution to society and legitimately qualify for an honorary distinction.
The important point is that the recognition should be based on the contribution rather than the office.
That distinction matters because universities occupy a special place in society.
Their authority rests partly on independence from the immediate pressures of politics, commerce and personal patronage. Universities interact with governments, businesses, foundations, donors and influential individuals because those relationships are often necessary for research, scholarships, infrastructure and public service.
But institutional relationships must not determine academic standards.
A donor may support a university without purchasing an honorary degree.
A government official may collaborate with a university without receiving preferential academic treatment.
A prominent alumnus may support an institution without acquiring influence over academic decisions.
And a university may maintain close relationships with powerful people without allowing those relationships to determine who graduates or who receives academic honours.
This is where institutional safeguards become essential.
Academic decisions should be traceable.
Requirements should be published or otherwise clearly communicated.
Supervisory and examination processes should operate according to established rules.
Academic bodies should make decisions within their lawful mandates.
Grievance procedures should be accessible.
And where a dispute arises, the institution should be able to demonstrate how the applicable rules were interpreted and applied.
The objective is not to make universities hostile to powerful people.
It is to make them indifferent to power when power has no academic relevance.
The Masengeli dispute illustrates why that distinction matters.
The legal proceedings concern a particular candidate, a particular programme, a particular set of academic and administrative processes and a particular graduation date.
Those facts should not be transformed into a general allegation that influential Kenyans routinely obtain academic qualifications through improper means.
Nor should the case be used to imply that Masengeli has failed to meet the academic standard for a PhD.
At present, the safer conclusion is narrower: the parties disagree about whether the requirements and processes necessary for his inclusion in the September graduation had been completed, and that dispute remains subject to the relevant legal and academic processes.
That is enough to make the broader institutional point.
Universities must have the confidence to apply their rules consistently even when the person involved is prominent.
They must also have the humility to acknowledge and correct administrative errors when they occur.
Academic independence is not a licence for universities to do whatever they please.
It imposes obligations on institutions as well as students.
A university should not introduce requirements retrospectively, apply unpublished standards selectively or use academic procedures to settle unrelated disputes.
The student, on the other hand, cannot reasonably expect academic requirements to be waived merely because graduation is personally or professionally important.
The integrity of the system depends upon both sides respecting the rules.
There is also a broader public-interest dimension.
Degrees are relied upon by employers, professional organisations, government institutions, international bodies and other academic institutions. Students invest years of study and substantial financial resources to obtain them.
If the public begins to believe that academic credentials can be secured through influence rather than achievement, the damage extends far beyond one university.
It diminishes the value of every legitimate degree holder.
It undermines students who have complied with demanding academic requirements.
It weakens confidence in university examinations.
And it makes genuine academic distinction harder to recognise.
The same concern applies to honorary degrees.
An honorary doctorate is valuable precisely because it is exceptional. If universities confer such honours too freely, the distinction becomes less meaningful.
The solution is not to abolish honorary degrees.
It is to protect their meaning.
Universities should apply rigorous criteria, insist on institutional scrutiny, document the basis for each award and be prepared to explain publicly why the recipient merits the distinction.
The same philosophy should govern earned degrees.
Merit should be demonstrable, procedures should be transparent and influence should be irrelevant.
That does not require treating powerful individuals with suspicion.
It requires treating them like everyone else.
For Masengeli, the appropriate question is whether he has fulfilled the academic and institutional requirements applicable to his PhD.
For USIU-Africa, the corresponding obligation is to apply those requirements consistently, communicate them clearly and follow its established procedures.
For the courts, where legal questions arise, the task is to determine the issues properly placed before them according to the law and evidence.
For Kenya’s higher-education regulators, the broader responsibility is to ensure that universities maintain standards that command public confidence.
And for universities generally, the lesson is straightforward.
Do not let influence determine academic outcomes. Do not let institutional power override academic standards. And do not allow honorary recognition to become a currency of access or patronage.
A university should be able to tell a powerful person “yes” when the requirements have been met.
It should equally be able to say “not yet” when they have not.
Neither response should depend upon the candidate’s title.
That is not merely good administration.
It is the foundation of academic credibility.
Ultimately, the prestige of a university is not measured by the number of presidents, police chiefs, politicians, business leaders or celebrities associated with it.
It is measured by something much harder to build and much easier to lose: the public’s confidence that when a university says someone has earned a degree, that person really has — and when it bestows an honorary distinction, the honour is genuinely deserved.
The Masengeli case should therefore be allowed to take its legal course without premature conclusions.
But universities need not wait for that litigation to resolve before reflecting on the principle it has brought into public view.
Academic excellence should be the currency of academic recognition. Everything else should remain outside the examination room.
