THERE is one question that has been bothering me these days: what message are we sending to our children when their education is the first thing we suspend in times of crisis? We are a country with 26.2 million children out of school, according to data collected in 2021–22 by the Pakistan Institute of Education. In contrast, about 54.7m children are enrolled in schools, with 56.2pc in public institutions and 43.8pc in private schools across the country. Yet, as of early 2026, studies indicate that 77pc of 10-year-olds in Pakistan are unable to read or write at an age-appropriate level. This is further compounded by the reality that 29pc of the population lives below the poverty line.
In a country, where education should be treated as a national emergency, it is deeply concerning that one of the first responses to rising fuel costs is to shift schools to online learning. This raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: why is education the first sector to be disrupted?
Restaurants, shopping malls, cinemas, recreation places and wedding halls continue to function as usual, yet schools are closed on the premise that children consume too much fuel travelling to them. Children commuting in vans, rickshaws, motorcycles, or even on foot are somehow seen as a greater burden than non-essential activities. This contradiction reflects a deeper issue. When decision-makers fail to appreciate the value of education, it is the children who ultimately bear the consequences.
At the same time, austerity appears selective and is not applied to government expenditures. There is little visible restraint on spending on vehicles, aircraft and official perks; in many ways, it remains business as usual. When sacrifices fall disproportionately on education, it reveals a troubling disconnect between the government and the public.
Online education is not an alternative; it is an exclusion.
While 70pc of schools may have access to electricity, the more relevant question is access to the internet. Even if schools are equipped to conduct online classes, how many children have reliable internet access at home? According to a Unicef-ITU (International Telecommunication Union) report, 80pc of school-age children in South Asia do not have internet access at home. In low- and middle-income countries, fewer than one in 20 children have home internet access, compared to nine in 10 in high-income countries.
For many children in Pakistan, especially those from low-income households and rural areas, online education is not an alternative; it is an exclusion. These children are already disadvantaged due to limited resources, overcrowded schools and fewer trained teachers. Each disruption widens the gap further, often pushing them permanently out of the education system.
The experience of the Covid-19 pandemic has already shown that online learning is, at best, an imperfect substitute for in-person education. Even among children who do have internet access, engagement is limited. Parents often report that children log into classes but remain distracted or disengaged. It is not possible to replicate the structure, discipline and social interaction of the classroom on screen.
Schools are not just places of learning; for many children, they are the only safe spaces. They provide structure to daily life and supervision by trained professionals. The consequences of school closures, therefore, extend far beyond academics. Poverty plays a significant role at these junctures. Children become more vulnerable to abuse, neglect and exploitation, including child labour. Girls bear a disproportionate burden. They are more likely to be subjected to early marriage and each interruption in their education reduces the likelihood of returning to school and achieving long-term independence. This perpetuates a cycle of limited opportunity and poverty.
The implications for Pakistan are profound. Education is directly linked to the country’s future, its human capital, economic stability and growth. Each year of lost schooling translates into measurable losses in lifetime earnings and national productivity. If our youth are not provided with the education they deserve, how will they compete in the global economy? The costs of interrupted education may not be immediately visible, but they will inevitably surface in the years to come.
It is essential for the government to recognise that education must be treated as a top priority service. School closures should be the last resort, not the first. If alternatives such as online learning become necessary, disparities in access must be carefully considered. More importantly, there needs to be a fundamental shift in mindset. Education is as vital to a nation’s survival as food. A country that sidelines education in times of difficulty is not solving the crisis but deepening it.
The writer is a paediatrician at AKUH.
X: @kishwarenam
Published in Dawn, April 9th, 2026
