By Andrew Suiam
I read with interest the recent op-ed by Melarbor L. Thabah titled “A Contemporary Antidote to the Non-Permanent Staff Saga,” (ST Nov 10, 2025). The piece raises valid administrative concerns about ad-hoc appointments, sanctioned posts, and the process of regularisation. While some of his observations deserve reflection, I feel compelled—not only as a concerned citizen but as one who believes in the human dimension of public service—to offer a gentle yet firm counter-view.
My conviction is simple: the men and women who serve in ad-hoc capacities are not the government’s slaves to be used at will and discarded when inconvenient. They are fellow human beings—public servants in every sense—whose dedication, loyalty, and sacrifice deserve recognition, not rejection.
1. The Ancient Lesson We Must Not Forget
There’s an old image worth recalling: “In ancient Egypt, honey would be applied on the servants so the flies would land on them and not on the Pharaoh.”
If we look honestly at our present system, that metaphor feels uncomfortably familiar. Those at the lower end of government service often absorb the hardship, the blame, and the insecurity so that the higher echelons remain untouched. The ad-hoc employees have become, in effect, the honey-coated servants of a modern bureaucracy.
This is not poetic exaggeration—it’s a moral warning. When the State uses ad-hoc employees as a cushion of convenience, only to cast them aside later, the metaphor turns from wisdom to indictment. It is not gratitude; it is exploitation disguised as policy.
2. The Human Dimension of Ad-hoc Service
Thabah’s article discusses the structural side of the issue—notifications, exams, categories—but it rarely steps into the shoes of the people living that reality.
Every “ad-hoc” worker is a person with a family, hopes, and commitments. They are not abstract policy entries—they are the ones who kept offices running, taught children, treated patients, managed emergencies, and held our system together.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, many of these same ad-hoc workers were the ones who stayed on the frontlines. They took risks when others stayed home. They were called heroes then; it would be unjust to call them temporary now.
Let us remember: these individuals didn’t choose instability. The State asked them to serve, and they did—often for years, sometimes decades, without the dignity of security. To treat them as temporary after a lifetime of service is not just unkind—it is unjust.
3. Reality vs. Label: Appointed Against Sanctioned Posts
One major misconception is the assumption that “ad-hoc” equals “casual” or “non-essential.” But in many cases, these employees were appointed against sanctioned or newly sanctioned posts, performing duties that are regular, recurring, and necessary.
The Supreme Court has repeatedly clarified this. In Dharam Singh & Others vs. State of U.P., the Court held that the State cannot hide behind the label of “temporary” when workers perform essential duties for years. Prolonged ad-hoc employment for permanent functions offends Article 14 of the Constitution, which guarantees equality before law.
When a person works for the State continuously, against a sanctioned post, the moral and constitutional contract between the two cannot be reduced to a word like “temporary.”
4. The State’s Duty as a Constitutional Employer
Thabah’s piece rightly calls for administrative reform—but it underplays the constitutional responsibility of the government as an employer. The State is not an ordinary employer; it is a constitutional employer, bound by Articles 14, 16, and 21—equality, fair opportunity, and the right to a dignified life. As the Supreme Court once stated: “The State cannot balance its budgets on the backs of those who perform its most basic and recurring functions.”
This principle is crucial. When ad-hoc employees carry out the same tasks as regular staff, often for years, the State’s duty is not only administrative—it is moral. To keep them in perpetual insecurity is to violate the spirit of fairness that the Constitution demands.
5. Exams, Fairness, and the Need for Justice
Of course, open recruitment and exams are vital for fairness. No one disputes that. The Uma Devi judgment (2006) emphasized that illegal backdoor entries cannot be legitimized. Yet, the same jurisprudence also acknowledges that when recruitment was transparent, the work is perennial, and the employee has served faithfully for long periods, justice requires regularisation or a fair pathway to it.
So yes, let exams exist—but with compassion and context. Let those who have already served 10 or 20 years not be forced into the same uncertainty as fresh applicants. Merit and humanity are not opposites; the system can uphold both.
6. The Pandemic and the Debt We Owe
During the pandemic, when hospitals were overwhelmed and fear gripped society, it was not policy papers but people who held the line. Ad-hoc nurses, sanitary staff, drivers, and clerks stood where many dared not. They were called “frontline heroes.” But heroes, once the crisis is over, should not be treated as dispensable labour. If we truly believe in service, then post-pandemic justice demands that these same individuals be recognised, not forgotten. The government cannot have it both ways—to celebrate them in headlines and abandon them in policy.
7. The Throw-Away Culture Must End
Thabah’s solution leans heavily on technical streamlining—rules, categories, and competitive exams. But behind that neat language lurks a deeper problem: the “throw-away” mindset. To repeatedly re-appoint a person year after year, then call them temporary, is not administration—it is moral hypocrisy. This cycle breeds despair. It corrodes trust. It tells our youth that service to society brings only uncertainty. The Court has warned against this, noting that “long-term extraction of regular labour under temporary labels corrodes public confidence and offends equality.” We cannot build a just system on the pain of the patient worker.
8. A Fairer Way Forward
There are practical, humane solutions:
· Transparent Service Audit: Each department should disclose how many ad-hoc employees have served for 5, 10, or 15+ years, and under what conditions. Numbers reveal truths that words conceal.
· Time-Bound Regularisation Policy: If a post is permanent in nature, the process to convert it should be automatic within a set period.
· Fair Exams with Credit for Service: Length of service must count. Offer age relaxations and bonus marks for those who have already served long and well.
· Parity in Basic Benefits: Until regularised, ad-hoc employees doing the same work should get comparable pay, leave, and respect.
· Dignified Exit: When a role truly ends, give proper notice, not abrupt dismissal.
· Media Recognition: Newspapers like The Shillong Times can continue to share the human side of these stories—so public discourse never forgets that behind every “ad-hoc” label stands a life.
9. Conclusion: Honouring Service, Restoring Dignity
Administrative reform is essential, but reform without compassion becomes bureaucracy without soul. The question is not whether the ad-hoc employees deserve regularisation; the real question is whether we, as a society, deserve their continued trust. As the old saying goes, honey was applied on the servants so the flies would land on them instead of the Pharaoh. We must ensure that history does not repeat itself in our own institutions. If honey must be applied, let it be the honey of fairness, not the honey of exploitation. To every ad-hoc worker who continues to serve: You are not temporary in worth, even if your post is temporary in title.
Thank you, Editor, for keeping this conversation alive. I trust that The Shillong Times will continue to be a space for balanced, humane dialogue that values every servant of the public, permanent or otherwise.
