Last week I attended the female undergraduate graduation ceremony at Zayed University. Several hundred graduates sat on stage awaiting their moment, each one dressed in identical graduation garb. From a distance, the only distinguishing feature was the different coloured sashes worn to represent the respective colleges – blue, white, green – and also the wide diversity of footwear choices: YSL, Valentino, Nike.
The Mistress of Ceremonies began reading out names, and one by one each student, sometimes walking in impossibly high heels, would cross the stage to collect their degree certificates. Occasionally the gravitas of the ceremony was punctured by the whooping and hollering of overjoyed family and friends in the audience, those unable to contain their joy, pride and admiration.
The similarity of graduation garb was also matched by a relatively high degree of likeness in terms of students’ first names. The Mistress of Ceremonies might sometimes call the name Fatima five times in succession, followed by three or four Mariams. My own research has shown that about 10 per cent of all the students that have ever attended Zayed University were named either Fatima or Mariam.
Despite a few minor idiosyncrasies, the Zayed University ceremony was incredibly similar to other graduation ceremonies I had attended elsewhere in the world. This institution of graduation is now a global tradition; a tradition that can arguably be traced back to two sisters named Fatima and Mariam.
The Al Fihri sisters, Fatima and Mariam, were born into a prosperous business family in ninth century Qayrawan, in what is now Tunisia. The family moved west, settling in the newly founded city of Fez. On the death of their wealthy father, the sisters used their large inheritance for major works of philanthropy. One of their projects, Al Qarawiyyin mosque, founded in 859, became a degree-granting university. This is an institution that many – including Guinness World Records – consider the oldest continuously operating university in the world. It predates the University of Bologna (founded 1088), Europe's oldest existing university, by over 200 years.
Although much has changed in the world of education since the founding of Al Qarawiyyin, much has also remained the same. The tradition of seeking knowledge and celebrating those who take up the challenge of acquiring it is both timeless and universal. So are the emotions family members express, as they watch their sons and daughters, siblings and cousins walk across the stage to receive their degrees.
The graduation ceremony in this country is made more remarkable when we consider the broader educational journey over the past few decades. The development of education has been breathtakingly rapid. In 1971, the literacy rates for men and women in the Gulf were about 50 and 30 per cent, respectively. Four decades later we read reports of literacy rates approaching 90 per cent, with female participation in tertiary education on par with or greater than that of men.
At last week’s graduation ceremony, the sense of progress and achievement was palpable, from the state-of-the-art auditorium where the event took place, to the well-grounded sense of self-confidence that many of these nouveau-graduates now exuded. Education is a journey, and these fresh graduates were like new arrivals at the first stop on an around the world tour.
Along with the celebration and sense of achievement, there was also an air of ambition, a desire to further improve and to achieve more. Many of the students I spoke to told me they planned to undertake master’s degrees and PhDs, they were firmly committed to the idea of lifelong learning. Among these fresh graduates, I also saw the Fatima and Mariam Al Fihris of the future; individuals whose achievements, values and determination will result in lasting legacies of benefit to humanity.
Dr Justin Thomas is an associate professor at Zayed University
On Twitter: @DrJustinThomas
