Credits – Sthalantar Research Foundation
Literacy has been a debatable legacy of our nation. The indigenous communities, replete with a resplendent cultural and communal heritage suffer from the limitations of illiteracy because of a spatial as well as psychological inaccessibility. With programs such as undertaken by ICDS enabling primary education as compulsory and secondary education as highly recommended, these erstwhile marginalised regions seem to have started harbouring the hope for a brighter future. However, the testimony recorded through research in this article forces one to re-evaluate how much of the promises of state, made in theory, are substantiated and manifested in reality.
With increased literacy rates in the local districts in the last two decades and the launch of various schemes to promote education in the indigenous belts, some youth could aspire for better livelihood options and educating their children as well. Many girls have managed to go up to graduation and some of them have secured good jobs as well.
But has it really made its mark for the majority of the young population when we still see so many migrants from the indigenous communities in urban cities or as seasonal labour in the salt pans or brick kilns? So many young girls are still getting married before they turn 18 years and so many dropouts in high schools from these communities.
In indigenous belts of Gujarat state, children from three to six years of age are enrolled in the anganwadi centers for preschool education. These anganwadi centers are initiatives under ICDS. Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) is a government programme in India which provides food, preschool education, primary healthcare, immunization, health check-up and referral services to children under 6 years of age and their mothers. After that, children are enrolled into primary schools running under ‘Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan’. Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan or SSA, is an Indian Government run programme aimed at the universalisation of primary education “in a time bound manner”.
To understand the situation let us read some insightful quotes from the young people and parents from these indigenous communities
When a young graduate in Dahod was asked whether he thinks education has made any difference in scope for livelihoods especially jobs, he said: “Not much. It has increased our status from non-literate or semi-literate working population to a workforce having graduate degrees. We still migrate to the urban cities for our livelihoods and most of it comprises work at construction sites – daily wages. Everyone gets equal wages at the construction site. Education does not make any difference. But yes, it certainly makes us disappointed.”
“What use is the reservation quota without the certificate? They have stopped issuing certificates for indigenous populations. Not having it makes us ineligible for jobs in the given quota in the government sector. And then daily wage work as domestic help gives us more income than a job in private sector” A young girl of 20 years, having passed her second year exam in commerce stream, working as a domestic help in Urban Vadodara mentioned when asked why does she not apply for a job in the government sector when there is a reservation quota for indigenous people.
“They offer only theoretical knowledge and do not have a revised syllabus. Having no practical knowledge, we do not stand a chance of being selected with other candidates who have practical skills in computers as well” A youth from Mahisagar sharing his experience of being rejected in three jobs despite of having a certificate in computer literacy offered through Gujarat Career and Skill Center
“We have primary school in our village. The nearest high school is 10 kms away from our village. Commuting every day is not safe for girls and so my parents have asked me to stay at home. Wish we had high schools close to our villages. I want to be a nurse”, remarked a girl from Dahod, a drop out after class VIII even though having scored a good percentage. At present she is accompanying her parents to the fields for work.
“How can I reappear for my exams of class X? The school has taken back my books. We have to deposit them back at the end of the year. They do not give books to repeaters. They say they have limited books and regular students are their priority. I cannot afford tuitions and I do not have books.” A young boy who failed in board exams – class X, three subjects.
“Seasonal hostels, you should go and see their actual condition. They are just infrastructures with no attendants or teachers. They do not even have enough food. Just big talks. Why starve our children there? They are better here with us” A parent when asked why they do not opt for seasonal hostels especially built for children of families in migration.
“My children cannot attend the classes. We do not have a mobile phone. The teachers call our neighbours who have a phone and give instruction to my children for completing lessons. Our neighbour is out most of the time and sometimes forgets to give us the message. It is also difficult for children to learn on their own. They got the books just last month. But it is for sure we are not going to send our children to school this year. Our children are precious to us” One parent on the classes run in indigenous areas during COVID 19
“What education are you talking about when our children of class IV or V are not able to read a simple paragraph or solve a two digit carry over addition? How can we expect anything better when one teacher is running two classes? It is better for our children to learn some skills which will help them earn their daily bread” A parent giving his opinion on education in government schools in the indigenous villages.
“I send my child to the anganwadi for the good food she gets there. She sits there for sometime. I get to finish my work at home”. A parent from Mahisagar, when asked about why she sends her four-year-old child to the anganwadi.
“The anganwadi workers sometimes teach them songs. The children play by themselves. What can the poor anganwadi worker do in the three hours that the anganwadi is open? She is busy filling her books. Her supervisors check them now and then. The helper prepares the food for the children. The anganwadi opens at ten in the morning and closes at about one in the afternoon.” A parent from Dahod when asked what the anganwadi worker does with their children.
There is a need to revisit the effectiveness of our programmes as they are implemented; whether they are from the ICDS for preschool education or the Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan for free and compulsory primary education or the scholarships given to the children from the indigenous communities or the vocational institutes set up for them. The government has invested in the infrastructure, the salaries and training of teachers. But when it comes to quality of education it has not even reached its minimum mark. In the COVID 19 situation, online education, with the majority of families not even having smart phones or internet access, it is difficult for children in indigenous areas to cope with education.
The ASER Reports published every year show the poor quality of education imparted in the government schools; and the government is keen on making the education sector a private domain. But is it worth it? Privatization does not guarantee quality of education. Instead it subtly or explicitly pushes the most marginalized children out of schools. The new education policy promises a lot of favorable changes which would make education a better sought option. But this is just a policy and ineffective unless and until programmes and schemes develop around it with practical applications.
Let’s hope for the best!
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