This year's School Leaving Certificate (SLC) examinations are now over. Only about 30 percent of the children enrolled in Grade 1 back in 2005 were able to sit for the SLC examination. Therefore, the where abouts of 70 percent of the children raises questions about the efficiency and relevance of our education system. In terms of impact alone, the role of education becomes even more blurred, as many of those who appear for the SLC examinations end up as migrant labourers to India, Qatar, Doha, Malaysia and similar countries. How much of their learning and investments up to SLC truly supports them in getting foreign employment is a subject of basic enquiry. But what is clear is that passing the SLC alone does not help their careers as skilled labour. Something else is required and that is missing from our education system.

On a more pragmatic note, over the years, we have learned and experienced that our education has no direct and visible association with livelihood. Wisdom tells us that one's quest for survival suspends all other objectives in life. In this respect, education figures nowhere for those who struggle everyday. For many of us, who have never had to struggle for survival, this may be difficult to comprehend. But plenty of such cases can be observed if we take a trip out of the Kathmandu Valley. The reflections made in this article are based on a field research conducted recently on out-of-school children in four districts—Bajhang, Bajura, Doti and Achham—of the Far Western development region.

The donkey example

In a nutshell, the field experience revealed that 'education is lost with the donkey'. This statement may sound absurd but it is a hard reality in many parts of this region. A 12-year-old boy was seen walking with his donkey up and down a river, collecting sand in bags. He had stopped attending school a few years back as he had to support his family. Now he earns about Rs 9,000 a month. This is his family occupation, followed through the generations. There are many others like him, who have one or another form of engagement quite early in life. This is the general situation of the country, only that, in other regions, something else replaces the donkey. The donkey here is just symbolic of one's occupation in which children are compelled to engage in early on in life.

For many, the priority is livelihood and a donkey guarantees it. Learning to care for the donkey is informal and self-imposed as the animal is usually passed on from one generation to the next. There is a certain degree of freedom and joy in nurturing the donkey. Above all, there are no examinations to pass.

Education, on the other hand, does not guarantee a livelihood. Results take years to become visible and it requires a huge investment of an individual's time and capital. Furthermore, school environment and the teaching culture in Nepal has yet to progress from coercive methods to joyful learning. Passing and failing a grade tends to invite disgrace and an inferiority complex in the child's psychology. As a result, many children are averse to schools and avoid attending regularly.  

Furthermore, our education system has virtually failed to establish a link with the geography, culture and economy of the region where people live. What is taught in schools is miles apart from what people are compelled to perform to earn their living. Even worse is the fact that the formal system has refused to acknowledge informal ways of learning and has no regard for conventional past approaches through which skills have and are transferred from generation to generation. These skills have been self-sustained for long and have evolved as a means of livelihoods. The formal education system has abandoned all our informal and conventional ways of learning. As a result, the disconnect between education and society, culture and livelihoods is stark.

Going away

The second observation during the study was even more dismal. In one situation, three generations—grandfather, father and children—were found in one spot for an interaction. The grandfather, a veteran Indian lahure, shared his experience of travelling miles on foot and by train to reach Bombay. His son, also a Bombay returnee, spoke of his high income and expenditure habit, which had brought him back home with empty pockets. This was not just about his case; his father too had returned home empty-handed.   

In spite of all this, going to Bombay has been a long-held tradition in this part of the country. “Kathmandu is miles away for us and Bombay is just nearby”, the father said. These words speak volumes about the state's presence in the region. Guaranteeing necessities for citizens to live and work on own soil is the primary function of the state. However, this community feels alienated and finds itself far from the state's security net.

What is obvious is that children do not go to Bombay for education. Young children in the community are found in schools until they reach the age of 11 or 12. By this age, they are ready to go to India and start looking for the appropriate time and friends or seniors to accompany them. This tradition of going to Bombay has been passed on for generations and has evolved as a hallmark of success in one's career. Going to India for work is the basic norm. Society questions a youngster idling his time in the village. There is almost no family in the community whose children are not in Bombay. The worst part is that there are now many destinations for labour work. We have no reason to believe that foreign labour will not become a new tradition and the norm for most of our youths.  

Changing times

Education, as it is, is by no means relevant to these and many other communities in the country. There was a time when the objective of education was simply learning alphabets and numerics. For this, our current curriculum appears just right. The times, however, have changed and so has the objective of education. The debate about whether to localise or globalise our education system is quite relevant here. Over the last few decades, we have tried many times to make our education consistent with emerging global trends. The adoption of education for all, child-friendly schools, compulsory education laws and adopting English medium of teaching in schools are a few examples. In all these innovative trials, we have categorically missed making education relevant to the people living under specific circumstances. We must admit that we have failed to blend these innovative concepts into local contexts.

Thus, the time has come to liberate our education from its curricular confinements. We cannot confine learning within a prescribed framework. Recognition of all forms of learning—formal and informal—is necessary. Educational entities, including schools, should not function as sole authorities for providing certification. Building the foundation of our education around local economies and value systems is most crucial. This requires a multi-pronged approach to diversification in our education, and that it recognise all forms of learning.

Published on: 8 April 2014 | The Kathmandu Post