HIS SON USED AI TO PASS. THEN UNCLE RWAMITI ASKED HIM A QUESTION.
When does a tool extend your thinking, and when does it quietly replace it?
Daniel’s father was delighted.
His son’s marks had suddenly improved. Not improved in the African-parent sense of moving from 48% to 53% and everybody saying, “At least there is progress.”
No.
Daniel had moved from the neighbourhood of 63% to 92%.
This was not progress. This was resurrection.
His father began mentioning the marks to people who had not asked.
“My boy is doing extremely well.”
At the barber shop.
“My son got 92%.”
At a wedding.
“These children of nowadays are very sharp.”
Even people discussing football were not safe.
Someone would say, “Arsenal played very well yesterday.”
Daniel’s father would somehow reply, “Yes. My son got 92%.”
Then one Saturday afternoon, he met Uncle Rwamiti.
“Rwamiti!”
“My friend.”
“You know these children understand technology better than us.”
Uncle Rwamiti became suspicious. Whenever a parent begins a conversation with these children, a speech is coming.
“What has happened?”
“My son Daniel. His performance has completely changed.”
“Ah! Congratulations.”
“He is using AI.”
Uncle Rwamiti adjusted himself on his stool.
“What does that mean?”
“Artificial intelligence.”
“I know what AI means. I am old, not dead.”
Daniel’s father laughed.
“He uses it for his schoolwork. Research. Assignments. Everything. Last week, 92%.”
“Wonderful.”
“You should see the things that machine can do.”
Uncle Rwamiti nodded. “I have seen.”
Daniel’s father looked surprised.
“You use AI?”
“Of course.”
“For what?”
“Many things.”
The father laughed. “At your age?”
Uncle Rwamiti looked at him.
“My friend, when electricity arrived in the village, did old people continue using candles because electricity was younger than them?”
That ended that discussion.
A few days later, Daniel and his father visited Uncle Rwamiti.
Daniel was a pleasant young man. Bright. Confident. Phone in one hand. Laptop in a bag.
His father had brought one of the assignments.
“Show him,” he said.
Daniel opened the laptop.
There it was.
Beautiful.
Introduction. Arguments. Evidence. Counterarguments. Conclusion.
Even the grammar appeared to have gone to university.
92%.
Uncle Rwamiti read quietly.
Then he looked at Daniel.
“This is very good.”
Daniel smiled.
His father smiled even more.
Then Uncle Rwamiti made a mistake.
He asked a question.
“Daniel, explain this argument to me.”
Daniel looked at the screen.
“Which argument?”
“This one.”
Uncle Rwamiti pointed.
Daniel read it.
“No, no,” said Uncle Rwamiti. “I can read. Explain it to me.”
Daniel stared at the paragraph. Then at his father. Then back at the screen.
“Well… basically… what it is saying is…”
Uncle Rwamiti waited.
“Basically…”
The father intervened.
“Maybe choose another part.”
“Excellent idea,” said Uncle Rwamiti.
He pointed at another paragraph.
“Explain this one.”
Daniel shifted in his chair.
“It is connected to the first one.”
“Even better. Explain the connection.”
Silence.
A bird outside contributed absolutely nothing to the conversation but seemed to be enjoying it.
Daniel’s father stopped smiling.
Uncle Rwamiti closed the laptop.
“My son, did you write this?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
Uncle Rwamiti waited.
“Well… with AI.”
“How much with AI?”
Another silence.
Daniel looked at his father.
This time Father was studying the ceiling.
Finally Daniel said:
“Most of it.”
“Did you read it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you understand it?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
His father did.
“These children are becoming lazy!”
Uncle Rwamiti raised his hand.
“No.”
The father stopped.
“Don’t run away so quickly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Five minutes ago you were celebrating the technology. Now that there is a problem, you want to blame the boy.”
The father became quiet.
Uncle Rwamiti turned to Daniel.
“Do you think using AI is cheating?”
Daniel thought.
“Sometimes.”
“When?”
“When you use it to do everything.”
“Do you think you used it to do everything?”
Another pause.
“Maybe.”
Uncle Rwamiti smiled.
“At least that answer sounds like you wrote it yourself.”
Daniel laughed.
Even his father surrendered a small smile.
Then Daniel surprised them.
“But Uncle, what is the difference?”
“Between what?”
“If AI helps me produce a better answer, why shouldn’t I use it? Adults use calculators. People use Google. Cars have GPS. Nobody says you must get lost to prove you know how to drive.”
Uncle Rwamiti sat back.
Now the conversation had become interesting.
Daniel continued.
“If the tool exists, why should I pretend it doesn’t?”
His father looked at Uncle Rwamiti.
The look said:
Now answer him, old man.
But Uncle Rwamiti wasn’t in a hurry.
Because Daniel had a point.
Perhaps a very good one.
A carpenter with an electric drill isn’t less of a carpenter because his grandfather used a hand drill.
An accountant doesn’t become dishonest because Excel performs the arithmetic.
A writer doesn’t become fraudulent because spellcheck catches a mistake.
Human beings have always invented tools that allow us to do things faster.
So perhaps the problem wasn’t that Daniel had used AI.
Uncle Rwamiti reopened the laptop.
He pointed at the assignment.
“The machine answered the question.”
Daniel nodded.
“I am only trying to discover whether you did.”
Daniel frowned.
Uncle Rwamiti continued.
“Suppose tomorrow somebody gives you another problem. No assignment. No marks. No teacher. A real problem. And they say, Daniel, we need your judgment.”
He tapped the laptop gently.
“Will you know what to ask the machine?”
Daniel said nothing.
“Will you know when its answer is nonsense?”
Nothing.
“Will you know what to keep, what to reject and what to challenge?”
Daniel looked at the screen.
His father looked at Daniel.
Uncle Rwamiti looked at both of them.
Then he laughed.
“Why are all of you looking at me?”
“You started this discussion,” Daniel’s father said.
“Yes.”
“So what should he do?”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Should he stop using AI?”
Uncle Rwamiti stood up.
This annoyed Daniel’s father.
Rwamiti had a habit of standing up when other people wanted conclusions.
“Where are you going?”
“Tea.”
“You haven’t answered.”
“I know.”
“Should Daniel use AI for his assignments or not?”
Uncle Rwamiti walked towards the house.
Daniel called after him.
“Uncle!”
He turned.
“What?”
“You haven’t told us what I should do.”
Uncle Rwamiti smiled.
“My son, that may be the first question this afternoon that you should not outsource.”
And disappeared inside.
Daniel looked at his father.
His father looked at the laptop.
The laptop, having caused enough trouble for one afternoon, remained silent.
And that is where Uncle Rwamiti leaves us.
Because perhaps the question isn’t whether young people should use AI.
That horse left the stable some time ago.
Perhaps the harder question is this:
When does a tool extend your thinking, and when does it quietly replace it?
Daniel got 92%.
The assignment was excellent.
The technology worked.
But when somebody asked him to explain what he supposedly knew, something uncomfortable happened.
So…
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
If you were Daniel, would you stop using AI?
Or would you learn to use it differently?
And if you were his father, would you still celebrate the 92%?
Uncle Rwamiti Stories
Everyday dilemmas. Bigger questions.
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