I shifted to Kolhapur for work somewhere around the beginning of 2021. Covid-19 cases had reduced, and the lockdown had been lifted. In the building I was staying was a caretaker’s family; husband-wife and a daughter. Their home is a tin shed in the parking lot along with cars as neighbours. They helped me shift and settle in the locality for which they denied any monetary compensation. I often saw their 14-year-old daughter studying outside their home: so I offered to teach her, which they happily welcomed.
In my initial conversation with their daughter Shreya, I asked her what she wanted me to teach her. “I want to speak English like you,” she responded. The answer was there. I thought it would be a great idea to help each other since I wanted to work on my grammar and vocabulary. Soon we started meeting every day, and she began bringing books of different subjects along with English. Maths was one of them.
Within a few days, I realized that in her 9th standard, Shreya could not read English or solve the fundamental mathematical problems of addition and subtraction. This started becoming a huge burden because now I had to plan her tutorials for almost all the subjects and start from the basics of Maths and English. She knew the answer to a few questions, but she could not relate to the logic behind it. For example, if the question is rephrased, she is not able to answer.
I started trying to understand why it is so. What she shared is, “I was good in studies till 6th standard. Our teacher Patil sir used to teach us so well. Everyone used to ask for my notes, but then the school was changed from primary to secondary. Teachers there don’t teach so well. They don’t ask if I/we understood what they taught. They just come, teach and leave. Even the girls in my school aren’t good. They keep gossiping about boys, write love letters to each other, and spend more time at the snack corner after school. I have now stopped hanging out with them. I don’t like such girls. I just want to focus on my studies.”
When asked about online classes, she says, “Half the time, our teacher is trying to calm down and make students attend the class, while during the other half, either the internet is poor or the teacher isn’t there. We don’t even get to ask questions. What to do?” I had no answer.
She complains of not being able to meet her friends because of the lockdown and getting bored being a single child and having no one to play with. She also talks about her responsibilities to look after her parents, earn and give money to her parents every month as she is the only one to look after them. As a grown-up, Shreya wants to do a job, any job. Where there will be an office and many people are working in that office.
Her mother was married at an early age and had some health issues with added responsibilities. She doesn’t want her daughter to go through the same. Instead, she wants her to study. She says, “It’s only for her education we are staying here, else we would go back to Bidri (their hometown in Karnataka). Everyone is already asking us when we are marrying our daughter. That’s how it is in our village. As soon as a girl attains puberty, the only topic in the village is marrying her off. But we won’t do that. Hence we don’t even visit our village nowadays. We will let her do whatever she wants to. Ultimately it’s her own destiny.”
The couple was having some issues with the other flat holders and wanted to leave this place, but they compromised because their daughter’s school and prospective college are nearby. They are not comfortable letting their daughter go far away, even to the shops or within the town. They don’t feel safe. “But if she were a boy“, she wonders, “I wouldn’t have any such tension, and I would’ve been allowed wherever I would’ve wanted to go.”
The story resonates with every other girl coming from the socially and economically backward strata of society. But, unfortunately, it’s making them lose confidence and interest in education.
- Lack of a robust evaluation system that could help students evaluate themselves and work on it promptly,
- Lack of regular guidance and necessary interventions from teachers to help students excel,
- The feeling of insecurity to send a girl child out of home alone,
- Communities’ constant pressure on girls to get married early.
I feel addressing some of these pervasive shortcomings could have made NEP better for every girl like Shreya.
The author is a Kaksha Correspondent as a part of writers’ training program under Kaksha Crisis.