By Ellerine Diengdoh
In a statement that deserves to be carved into the walls of an abandoned government school, the Education Minister, recently assured us that Meghalaya is providing free and compulsory education under the Right to Education Act. He also questioned why parents are sending their children outside the state when, according to him, everything they need is right here at home.
That’s a great question. Really. Why would anyone abandon this utopia of learning, where government schools have no teachers, no books, no walls and in some cases, no students? It is a complete mystery.
Oh, wait.
Let’s take a moment to appreciate the wonders of our state’s education system. I didn’t cough this up, please refer to “Schools in M’laya struggle to check falling grades”, Shillong Times, September 11, 2024 – 9.8% of children drop out at the lower primary level; 9.4% disappear in upper primary. By the time they reach secondary school, 21.7% have vanished.
They are not taken by floods or famines. They do not disappear into thin air. No, they run from the education system like you would run from a burning house. Because that is exactly what it is! And for those who make it to the grand finale, exams, let’s talk about results:
124 schools scored a 0% pass rate in the SSLC exams. That’s right, not a single student passed. ZERO. A level of consistency that puts NASA to shame. 36 of these schools have done it for three consecutive years. You have to admire their commitment to tradition. It’s like an annual festival celebrating collective failure.
But wait, what about the teachers? The real backbone of the system?
1,615 government lower primary schools have only ONE teacher. Teaching multiple subjects. To multiple classes. At the same time. Who needs Hogwarts when we have real-life wizards performing educational sorcery every day?
157 government lower primary schools have ZERO teachers. Education via osmosis! Students simply absorb knowledge from the air, like WiFi, but even less reliable. And now, let’s talk about literacy levels: Only 14% of Class 3 students can read a simple Class 2-level text. Only 23% of Class 5 students can do the same. 60% of Class 8 students are still struggling with Class 2-level reading. At this rate, by Class 10, we’ll have high schoolers struggling with bedtime stories. And what about those lucky few who actually stay in school? Well, they get to enjoy:
Classrooms that breathe freely, for they have neither walls nor roofs! Teachers who appear and disappear like ghosts.
Infrastructure? A blackboard steadily disintegrating, a single bulb that works if the village has electricity and the stars align, desks and chairs so unstable they demand careful negotiation before sitting.No chalk. No materials. No pretence of improvement.Libraries so well-equipped they boast a jaw-dropping collection of exactly three books, so ancient they might as well be written in hieroglyphs.
Toilets that exist only in government reports, while students relieve themselves in fields, blessed by generations of suspiciously well-fed pigs.
And finally Mid-day meals which promises dal, rice, and vegetables. What students actually eat? Rice and a ‘dal-flavoured’ liquid that could also double as paint thinner. Occasionally, the vegetables arrive in spirit. When someone mentioned them in a meeting.
Occassionally, a government inspector drifts in, clipboard in hand—not to bring change, mind you, but to solemnly verify that, yes, everything is still missing!
But wait—how does the Honourable Minister see none of this?
One has to wonder about his office chair. It must be enchanted or on opioids, because every time he sits on it, he seems to be transported to a parallel universe where Meghalaya’s education system is thriving. Where government schools have world-class infrastructure. Where Teachers are sipping tea in fully funded staff rooms, discussing their latest pay raises. Where students are graduating in flying colours.
But if I may ask, where can I get one of these chairs? I could really use it while correcting scripts.Imagine sitting down and suddenly finding that every essay is brilliant, every argument airtight, every student a genius.Perhaps a new government scheme is in order, ‘The Magic Chair Initiative.’ Every citizen gets one. Sit, and suddenly your salary triples and Meghalaya’s schools become world-class institutions. Who needs real reform when we can all just hallucinate together?
And yet, while the Honourable Minister enjoys his fantasy, let me tell you what happens in the real world.
Children from Meghalaya left home in search of an education. Two returned in coffins. “Food poisoning” they say, as though a bad meal is the villain here. But let’s not pretend. These children were not just poisoned by what they ate. They were poisoned by a system that made their exile necessary.
And now, instead of confronting this horror, instead of admitting that Meghalaya’s education system is so neglected that parents are forced to send their children across state lines,the Honourable Minister of Education has a question:
“Why don’t they stay?”
They don’t stay because to stay is to fail.
And if the government continues to pretend that all is well, if it keeps preaching about the ‘Right to Education’ while denying the ‘Right to Quality Education’, soon, the only students left will be the ones who have nowhere else to run.
“Why don’t they stay again?”
Because Meghalaya has nothing to offer them. Because our schools are skeletal remains of what they should be. Because our colleges are chronically starved of funds. Because our university is a bureaucratic warzone.
And now, Honourable Minister, you—and those before you—must answer. Not just for those who left, but for those who never made it back!