In Pakistan, schools neglected in favor of the fields

At the end of school, Aneesa Haroon throws away her threadbare schoolbag, wolfs down her lunch and joins her father in the fields. For this eleven-year-old girl, as for many Pakistanis, going to class is not really the priority.

His enrollment in school at the age of seven was the subject of negotiations between the teachers and his parents, farmers from Abdullah Goth, on the outskirts of Karachi (south).

“Initially, many parents were not in favor of sending their children to school”relates Rukhsar Amna, director of the school. “Some children worked in the fields and their wages were considered more valuable than their education”.

Pakistan has one of the highest dropout rates in the world, with more than 26 million children affected, the majority in rural areas, according to the government.

An international education summit addresses this issue this weekend in Islamabad, with the presence of Malala Yousafzai, Nobel Peace Prize laureate and activist for the right to education.

In Abdullah Goth, the school managed by the Pakistani Roshan Foundation is the first to operate in decades in the village of 2,500 inhabitants. The first public establishment is 10 km away and has only one teacher.

“This is the first time that parents, residents and children realize the importance of having a school”reports Humaira Bachal, 36, in charge of education within the foundation, financed by public and private funds.

Initially recalcitrant, the families agreed to enroll their children in exchange for food baskets to compensate for the loss of income that they usually provided.

Poverty is the main reason for massive dropouts: according to the World Bank, 40% of Pakistan’s 240 million people live below the poverty line.

Inadequate infrastructure, conservatism but also the impacts of climate change – it is not uncommon for poorly equipped schools to close due to pollution, heat waves or floods – worsen the situation.

“Educational emergency”

Sometimes, as in the regions of Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, communal violence is another obstacle to schooling. In Balochistan, half of girls do not go to school, according to the Pakistan Alliance for Mathematics and Science, which analyzed government data.

Most of Abdullah Goth’s children are in class in the morning and at work in the afternoon.

“Their regular support is essential for us”says Anissa’s father, Haroon Baloch, as he watches his daughter and niece pick vegetables to sell at the market. “The children take the goats to graze while we are at work. Then they help us with other tasks”.

Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif reported last year a state of“educational emergency” and assured that he would increase the budget allocated to education from 1.7% of GDP to 4% over the next five years.

Although public schools take care of students for free, there are too many for limited resources. Private establishments then take over, sometimes for a few dollars per month.

For the poorest, thousands of madrassas (Koranic schools) offer religious education, with roof and board, but those who leave find themselves poorly equipped to enter the job market.

“In a way, we are facing an educational apartheid”warns Adil Najam, Pakistani-American professor at the Pardee Faculty of Boston University, who has studied the country’s school system.

“What’s the point? »

“We have at least ten different education systems, you can buy whatever education you want, either terrible or world-class”he said.

According to him, upon realizing that their children will not be able to compete with those who graduate from the best schools, parents become discouraged and send them directly to work.

Aneesa Haroon, who decided she wanted to become a doctor after a visit to health professionals at her school, sees firsthand the difference from students in the city.

“They have access to certain equipment (which we do not have), while we work nearby”she notes.

In his village market, dozens of children place fruit on the stalls or run between trucks to serve coffee to the drivers.

Aged 10, Kamran Imran works in a mechanics workshop in the afternoon, which earns him 250 rupees (0.87 euros) per day, enough to help his father raise his three younger brothers and sisters.

His boss, Mohammed Hanif, did not send his children to school.

“What is the point of studying for 10, 12 years if at the end you struggle? »he comments.