Chetna Verma
Mudasar Mughal
Beneath a tranquil sky in the deceptive calm of a stunningly picturesque landscape, little children squat on the bare ground, clutching their colorful text books restlessly. This is the border village of Keerni in Poonch District of Jammu, and the young students are in the open-air ‘classroom’ of their government school.
Keerni is one of many villages severely affected by the decades-old conflict at the north-western border. The development issues of the villagers are merely collateral damage; but perhaps among the worst casualties are the dreams of the little children, their aspirations amid the harsh reality of their world.
Keerni is located at the base of the mountain range that makes it particularly susceptible to firing from across the border. The worst year, villagers recall, was in the year 2000 where, in the aftermath of Kargil War, both sides would reportedly exchange heavy fire on the LoC with frightening regularity as the hostilities between two countries saw an unprecedented surge. For security reasons, the entire village was then vacated by the security forces and was referred to as “Barbaad Keerni” during the decade that it lay abandoned. The Indian forces afterwards reclaimed the village and permitted its habitation only in 2011. The village is now surrounded by a fence (technically called the Anti Infiltration Obstacle System) with high security check at the gates that connect the village to rest of the state and country at large, constructed to check cross border illegal activities after the Kargil War.
The long years when the village lay abandoned destroyed what little infrastructure that had been. “There were two schools in our village, a primary and a middle school. Both were destroyed during this period, either blasted by militants or damaged in cross border shelling. Neither has been reconstructed yet. Classes in the primary school, seldom held due to poor weather conditions or frequent absence of of the teacher, do no good. Worse, this erratic exposure to education erodes their faith in its benefits. They simply drop off,” shares Nazam Din Mir, one of only two youth in this village who has been able to complete their graduation. Nazam is pursuing a Masters degree, breaking stereotypes about the aspirations of the youth in this remote part of the country.
After the village was resettled, the middle school was shifted across the fence to Qasba. Students have to travel long distances and pass through stringent security checks to and from school. As there are no female security guards at the fence, parents are reluctant to send their daughters to the middle school. In the already devastated state of education in this village, the education for girls needs special focus.
Educational institutions facing the brunt of violence is not new. The trend goes back to the early 1990s when militants would often burn the village schools and successfully create an atmosphere of fear that kept an entire generation of children away from schools. Several efforts of the government were directed to restore faith in the education system among students and parents alike. Today, ramshackled buildings are being repaired, teacher-student ratios are improving, enrolment is rising and so is the literacy rate. But problems persist.
A visit to a village merely fifteen kilometers from Poonch town proves to be an eye-opener. “I send my children to the academy because the quality of education offered by Government school is quite poor,” says Mrs Razia Begum of Chontra Village. According to Mohammad Bashir, a lecturer by profession, “The problem begins from the primary level. Although the school teachers of the primary schools are locals, they share no empathy for their fellow villagers. The very sanctity of the education system is violated when teachers aim only for money and not for their pupils’ success.”
Many villagers have complained that teachers come to school only to collect their salaries. The appointed teachers have divided their work to suit their convenience. One by one, they take turns to come to school to mark their attendance. On an average, a teacher comes to school only once or twice a week.
“The children of these teachers are studying in the most renowned schools of the district. There should be a law that directs the teachers of the government school to admit their children in government schools only. This is the only way to make them work efficiently,” suggested Mrs. Begum.
The sensitivity towards the education must come from the locals themselves. In the past, thousands of the students who were deprived of their basic right to education became potential recruits of militancy. Today, though the situation is not that grim, but the lessons of the past must not be forgotten.
Rabia Kouser, a little five year old angel of Azam and his wife Parveez Akhter, goes to her neighbor’s house everyday to do their daily chores like washing clothes, utensils and cleaning up of the house and has been doing so for quite some time now. Her parents, who grew up in the years of militancy, were not able to get an education. Their lack of awareness is pushing their daughter towards a similar fate.
The conflict that led to the fallouts in the education system in the state has now taken a backseat. Sadly, other social ills have surged forth to replace them: child labor, unemployment, ignorance, depression and distrust of the government are continuing to take a toll on the people in the border areas.
In this post militancy phase, the reconciliation between the past and present is an imperative. It may take several generations for the wounds to heal, but a sincere effort is necessary for a promising beginning. For a long time it has been considered the task of governments to promote this process, but it is equally important for communities to come forward, not only to demand their right but also to extend a hand to help themselves.
Charkha Features
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