EDUCATION
Consequent to the 21st amendment in the constitution, leading to the merger of the erstwhile tribal areas with KP, the whole of the province of KP together with the Pashtun inhabited areas of Afghanistan now forms one big landmass where Pashto language is spoken.
The combined Pashto-speaking population of this vast stretch of land is nearly fifty million souls which is just about twenty per cent less than what makes up the population of France. But unlike the French, Pashtuns, particularly those living on this side of the divide, have little to crow about their language.
(KP) is a wondrous place. It is blessed with a stupendous topography. Tirich Mir in the district of Chitral is the world’s highest mountain peak outside of the Karakoram and Himalayan mountains. Tirich Mir is also said to be the abode of fairies who jealously guard the springs trickling out of it. The water from these springs form into a river during its arduous journey throughout the length of Chitral before it changes its course into the territory of Afghanistan at Arandu on the Durand Line.
Until this point the river was known as ‘River Chitral,’ but as it trundles into Afghanistan and meanders through its valleys, plains and mountains, gathering in its fold more water, it changes its appellation to ‘River Kabul,’ which it retains till it discharges its water into Indus at Attock in Pakistan.
But before that happens, River Kabul re-enters Pakistan at Shalman in the district of Landi Kotal on the Durand Line. Prior to marching forward in its momentous journey with its newly carried baggage that contains finer details of primitive Pashtun culture and civilisation, River Kabul takes a breather at Shalman where for a while its water is observed to be basking in the serenity of its awesome environs. Here it also gets time enough to reflect on what lies ahead during the remaining part of its journey through the lands inhabited mostly by Pashtuns.
A river, as we all know, tells us our story like no other living or non living being. As River Kabul passes through the meeting point of the districts of Charsadda and Nowshera, it encounters a vast sprawling village, more like a modern day town, of Kheshgi where Saidul Amin lives. Kheshgi not just benefits from the River Kabul; it also faces its wrath as it did during the 2010 flood when a cloud burst played havoc in the central and northern districts of KP.
Saidul Amin likes to introduce himself with his full name: Saidul Amin Ahsan Kheshgi. While it is common among the people of his village to end their names with ‘Kheshgi,’ Ahsan appears to be his pen title. In his early forties and of middle height, Amin is handsomely built with a thick crop of beard on his fairly complexioned face.
He is so vastly educated that it is difficult to keep a count of all the certificates and degrees that he has obtained, and which he still keeps adding on to the list. ‘I have done my masters in Arabic and Islamic Studies and subsequently I went for B.Ed and M. Ed,’ he narrates the details with a smile on his cheerful face. Side by side with the pursuit of his temporal education, Amin never neglected his spiritual studies as he studied Dars-e-Nizami course for seven out of the requisite eight years in his quest for getting admittance in the Daura-e-Hadith faculty. His resolve to have all the feathers adorn his cap is so strong that he recently appeared in the examination for masters in Pashto language which he aims to take to the level of doctorate.
Despite its rather closer proximity to the urban centres of Peshawar, Nowhere and Charsadda, Kheshgi on the bank of River Kabul will perhaps forever remain a village in the sight of those who know its bucolic settings. With his roots so inextricably planted in Kheshgi’s rustic soil, Amin’s achievements in the field of education are thus all that incredible. Too much knowledge, wealth and fame at times get to one’s head but not here in the case of Saidul as he even at this advanced stage in his career refuses to be anything other than modest and indeed down to earth.
He applied this principle to his professional life as well when he initially applied for the post of a primary school teacher and after having been selected as such went on to perform that job for close to six years. He taught the young pupils in Pashto, their mother-tongue, which he has all the authority in the world to say was the best mean of making the students comprehend their lessons.
Though presently serving on a senior position in the provincial tax machinery after having topped the competitive examinations conducted by the KP Public Service Commission in 2005, his passion for subjects like education stays closest to his heart.
The fact that he comes from a literary family -his grandfather being a poet of considerable fame- helps much to explain Ahsan’s deep-rooted love for literature. He is adequately fluent in Arabic, Persian, Urdu and English in addition to his superb command over his own mother-tongue of Pashto. His discussion on all subjects is laced with plenty of references to relevant verses from the poetry of many famous Pashtun poets including of course the legendary warrior-poet Khushal Khan Khattak and Rahman Baba.
‘Abaseen (Indus) tha narra wukra pa zora, O Landai (River Kabul) tha waina uwaya haleema (call, when you have to, the fast flowing Indus loudly, but when addressing the mellowed water of River Kabul, do so softly), Saidul Amin loves to recite this verse by the 17th century poet Khushal Khan Khattak. As his name suggests, he is a true son of Kheshgi and his faith in the river, that flows by his village and which has added manifold to his wealth of knowledge, is unwavering. ‘You know what Khushal also said about this river at the bank of which the poet laureate also lived further downstream at Akora Khattak,’ a beaming Amin says when he is prodded on in the discussion. ‘Da Landai uba salsali, da Hayat de cheenu syali (in purity, the water of River Kabul vies with the water of the springs of life),’ he produces another one from his repertoire.
Saidul Amin did his matriculation from a government school in his village where he studied Pashto as an optional subject. Rest of the subjects were either in Urdu or English. Though he credits his command over the literary aspects of Pashto language to the prevalent traditions in his family, he is a strong proponent of giving central place to one’s mother-tongue in his/her education at the school and college level. ‘This concept of focus on one’s mother language is gaining currency worldwide and it is not without sufficient reason and rationale,’ Amin argues convincingly.
There are not many people in KP who think and act like Saidul. Especially, there is hardly anyone in the right places where decisions on critical matters like education in the mother languages are taken. In KP, there are two administrative departments looking after education; a Higher Education Department and an Elementary and Secondary Schools Department.
What example would best explain the level of apathy and an utter lack of understanding of the real issues than the fact that the present secretary Elementary and Secondary Schools Department is the fifteenth such gentleman to be in charge since the year 2009. This means that on average no secretary has served for more than eight to nine months. This information is inscribed on an insipid board hung on the wall in the office concerned. Matters in the Higher Education Department are even more deplorable.
The Awami National Party (ANP) during its rule in the province from 2009 to 2013 did make some attempts to introduce primary level education in mother-tongues. Despite its avowed Pashtun credentials and constituency, ANP did not wish to be seen to be imposing Pashto through a fiat. Accordingly it was decided that primary level education in various regions of the province shall be imparted in the mother-tongues be it Pashto, Hindko or any other. Books for this purpose were also printed by the KP Text Book Board and distributed free. But the scheme did not work beyond the currency of the ANP’s five year at the helm. The vehicle was put in the reverse gear as soon as Pakistan Tehreek Insaf (PTI) took reins of government after it was swept to power in the province in the 2103 elections.
Saidul Amin does not like recounting all that sad tale when hard work of many years was relegated to the dustbin of history with a single stroke of the pen. His concern as regards the success of the overnight change over to English from the regional languages carries a lot of weight. ‘How could you reasonably expect teachers recruited thirty or so years ago on the basis of a mere matriculation to teach in English,’ he questions. But those seized with a wish to look modern would have nothing to do with the clarion call of the experts like Amin.
If truth be told there are not many people in KP who would care much if the medium of instruction should indeed be in one’s mother-tongues. And this kind of approach is not to be found only among the rich and the middle class. Families even at the lower stratum of the economy would prefer and in fact strive hard to send their wards to English medium schools no matter how questionable that standard might be.
Salma, Gul e Rana and Shamsa work in upscale houses in Abbottabad to help boost the meagre wages of their husbands. They all belong to far off towns and presently living in small rented houses in their adopted homes but that would not come in the way of sending their children to relatively good English medium schools. They do this despite the fact that they have a choice of the nearby government schools.
While looking for some of the Pashto and Hindko books being taught in the primary schools across KP, I visited a few bookshops in Abbottabad. I couldn’t find the desired books with this curt information thrown at me that the same were distributed by the government free of cost.
Mazhar has a big bookshop on one of the busiest roads in Abbottabad. He told me that some people brought him those books for binding but otherwise we wouldn’t get to see them in the market.’ When pressed if he could guide this writer to a government primary school in his near about where these books were being taught, Mazhar pointing in a particular direction said that a mosque in that locality was being used as a government primary school where one could find those books.
Mazhar who was born to Hindko-speaking parents at Nathiagali in the heart of the mountains of Hazara got his schooling from Peshawar where his father was posted in a government department. The bookseller, therefore, is quite fluent in Pashto. He expressed his misgivings when this writer asked him if any scheme of thing aimed at imparting education in mother-tongues looked practicable. ‘You see among other things you have to understand that even in this otherwise hub of Hindko-speaking people, Pashtun settlers now outnumber the locals and thus it looks very difficult to cater to the requirement of students of different ethnicity in the same classroom,’ he reasoned.
It is true that Pashtun population in Pakistan has rapidly increased over the last few decades. This is borne out by the provisional results of the 2017 census. Coupled with the Pashtuns’ propensity for shifting homes in search of a livelihood, this phenomenal increase in their numbers has indeed disturbed the demographics in KP. Adding to the myriad problems is the fact that literacy rate among the Pashtuns is not really praiseworthy.
What ought to be done then to make amends and find a viable solution. Abaseen Yousafzai, Chairman Pashto Department University of Peshawar, believes that no problem was unsolvable. ‘If Afghanistan, much lower than us on the economic chart and more deeply diverse along ethnic lines, can address these problems then why not Pakistan,’ Abaseen laments in his stentorian voice. ‘The medium of instruction in Afghanistan is Pashto in the Pashto-speaking areas and Dari in rest of the country,’ Abaseen informed while adding further for emphasis that in the Nangarhar Province even medical education was being imparted in Pashto.
Saidul Amin and Abaseen Yousafzai can at length and fairly eloquently argue on the merits of education in the mother-tongue, but then the complexity of the issue cannot be gainsaid. One has to admit that at present almost all mother-languages spoken in KP lack the capacity of catering to the requirements of the modern scientific education. This point is most convincingly summed up by Ejaz Rahim, a former Chief Secretary KP and a distinguished poet in English language, when he says:
‘I too have an opinion. First, if the mother-tongue falls in the category of a cultural vehicle devoid of any tradition of modern science and technology, the second language should make up for that gap. In what proportion of time or content, I do not know. But the principle is important. Secondly, the elitists who wish to eliminate the English language window altogether for the majority without first creating a uniform national education system are teaching the majority to perform sugar-coated suicide. Thirdly, there is need for any study to have a look at the list of mother-tongues in this country. It runs into hundreds. Finally, in my view, even more vital than language today is the quality of the teacher, whatever the language, or the language mix. In the presence of these huge issues, a focus on language as a means to salvation will not cut much ice. But there is no harm in generating and sharing views.
words: 2350
The writer is author of LESS THAN CIVIL (The state of civil service in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa) and three other books.
posted by Nasser Yousaf @ 02:42
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