In early 2011, I finally did what I had wanted to do since turning 30. Although two years late, I was still proud of myself; I was finally leaving formal employment to start my own business advisory consultancy firm.

Anyone who has been part of a new project can readily appreciate the excitement that comes with "breaking new ground”. Here I was inspecting potential office space, ordering furniture and the highlight; recruiting staff.

Luckily, I had been involved in interviewing new recruits at my previous job so I was rather familiar with the standard interview process in Rwandan public institutions.

My view was that they were heavily biased towards paper qualifications and academic prowess rather than practical experience, aptitude and attitude towards the job at hand.

In my small way I intended to influence change. I would use academic qualifications just to pre-select potential candidates and that would be the last time the paper qualifications influenced my assessment of candidates.

In the end, I recruited six fresh graduates as trainees and put them on three month unsalaried probation. The training programme was intense and focused on financial and office management skills. Allowances for transport and meals were provided.

All went swimmingly for about a month.

In the second month I was confronted with some shocking realities; one – my trainees were unhappy with the lack of salary, two – their desire to learn had evaporated, three – I was in the immediate danger of losing at least three out of six of the trainees, four – I had potentially wasted about six weeks worth of my time and resources on these youngsters.

The experience was a rude awakening to the realities of doing business in Rwanda. Lesson one – Good employees are scarce and hard to come by. Lesson two –Training staff does not guarantee loyalty.

Eventually I lost two trainees in the next few weeks. Predictably, they were the most promising as well. I succumbed to the realities of the market and put the remaining four trainees on modest salaries a month before their probation was due to end.

The next two years were a rollercoaster of unfulfilled expectations for the surviving trainees and me. Between departures and new arrivals, one thing became clear.

The issue was a simple one, a clear fault line had developed; all the trainees expected to be paid well regardless of personal contribution and I expected them to take personal responsibility for learning their jobs and contribute individually to the collective good of the firm.

I couldn’t help but look back at my own experience. When I left university, my wish was for someone to believe in me and just give me a chance to prove myself. Things had obviously changed over the years.

Five years later, I have come to the realisation that neither the trainees nor I were to blame; if anything I was guilty of not wanting to play by the rules of the prevailing environment.

In the aftermath of the liberation war and Genocide against the Tutsi, Rwanda was facing a dire shortage of graduates and the government responded logically. University education was made accessible to all and sundry.

Several distinguished people that dropped out of secondary school to join the liberation struggle, among others, were later given a second opportunity at education by seating for A-level exams as "candidat libre” to join university.

This was yet another perfect example of a home-grown solution to a uniquely Rwandan problem.

While mass education served the purpose of filling the evident gap in the elite corps of post 1994 Rwanda, my view is that in the case of university education, this approach has run its course.

We are currently producing graduates that are ill-equipped to take up the jobs available within the rapidly growing economy. As per the 2014 education statistical yearbook, tertiary institutions within Rwanda produced a combined output of 12,449 graduates.

Perhaps it’s time to change course. Let university return to what it was originally meant to be; a refining school for a few highly specialized professionals aiming to work in fields such as Medicine, Engineering and Law to name just a few.

To attain the required quality of graduates, rigorous entry exams should be arranged that take into account more than a student’s high school grades.

Attributes like life experience, career goals and community service records should be considered.

High school leavers could also benefit from using their extended vacation of six months to a year more productively. This time could be used for industrial training, volunteering and apprenticeships in the intended field of university study.

The Government should be commended for the emphasis put on technical vocational education and training (TVET) by establishing and supporting Integrated Polytechnic Regional Centres (IPRCs) around the country.

These centres should provide an extra facet to TVET that equips graduates with necessary skills to set up their own businesses instead of focusing on finding a job after graduation.

Students should further be encouraged to branch out as early as after form three (O-Level) to undertake TVET courses and consider university education after gaining some practical experience in their intended career of choice.

This would serve three purposes; one – it would ease the pressure on universities, two – it would provide Rwandan industry with mid-level technical skills that are currently in short supply, three – Rwanda would steadily expand its Small and Medium Enterprise (SME) sector as more people graduate from IPRCs around the country.

This shift from quantity to quality in university education would suit both employers and job seekers.

The frustrations of unfulfilled expectations such as those I experienced at the start of my private business adventure would gradually reduce and recruitment would be a more exciting prospect.

The writer is a consultant and trainer specializing in Finance and Strategy. He is based in Kigali.