In the faint afternoon light, the girls sat with their notebooks open. They gathered around their textbooks on the floor, relying on the pale light filtering through the window.
This was an after-school classroom in Juri, a tea plantation town in the Sylhet region. A thin plastic sheet covered the floor, and there were no desks or chairs. Still, the girls quietly followed the words, guiding their pencils across the page.
They came to this classroom after school. Sitting in their uniforms, working on their notebooks, their backs embodied a learning energy that went beyond obligation.
This after-school classroom is run by the NGO FIVDB (Friends In Village Development Bangladesh). With support from the Malala Fund, classes are held every day except Fridays.
Each class lasts approximately one and a half to two hours. The teachers are young, local teachers, and earn a monthly salary of around Tk10,000. While not particularly high, they still stand proudly in front of their classrooms.
Some of them had previously studied in similar environments, which is why they are acutely aware of the students' efforts.
Watching this scene, I found myself pondering: What is the purpose of education?

The drop in the HSC exam pass rate to 58.83% shocked many. However, simply dwelling on the numbers won't change anything.
Rather, it's time to consider what we can learn from this and how we can rebuild. The social unrest that has occurred over the past year likely underlies these results.
Therefore, rather than lamenting this as a failure of education, we should see it as the starting point for change.
There are certainly children in Bangladesh who have the ability to learn. The girls who gather in after-school classes are among them.
They aren't learning because they're being forced to. They gather after school, eager to learn a little more for their future selves.
I believe this is a form of learning that exists beyond the system, not outside it. How can the country's education system embrace this kind of intentional learning and integrate it back into public education?
This is the next challenge. To make this vision a reality, concrete steps are required. To achieve gradual change, expanded public support for after-school learning models in partnership with NGOs and local groups is needed, along with targeted investment in improving teacher quality and conditions.
These efforts will lead to the creation of a system that supports children's learning as a foundation of the nation, rather than an exception.

Education, at its core, is the foundation for people to understand the world, interact with others, and build a better society.
Public education must regain its true essence. This is the change that is most needed now.
When I visited in 2024, I asked Mr Shaon Dey, a young man from Juri, to be my guide. Through my interview with him, I learned about education in rural areas.
"Tea plantation work has been a job that has been passed down through generations in this region. Many tea plantation workers are indigenous people brought here during the colonial era or members of marginalized communities, and the job has been passed down with no other options. However, educated young people are gradually breaking this cycle. One of my friends is now working as a government employee. It's a small change, but it gives us real hope."
Tea plantation workers are paid about Tk120 yen a day. After a day's work, picking tea leaves under the scorching sun and carrying baskets on their backs, they only earn a small amount of cash.
“Some children skip school to pick tea leaves. It's illegal, but in reality, many families have no choice.” Shaon's words were filled with both quiet resignation and a desire to change this.
But education is not simply a means to escape poverty. It is the foundation for understanding the world, connecting with others, and enriching one's life.
Learning mathematics sharpens one's ability to grasp the structure of things. Reading cultivates the ability to be exposed to and understand the thoughts of others. Enjoying music and art also sharpens one's sensitivity to different values. Learning these things broadens one's horizons as a human being.
Culture is not simply the accumulation of knowledge; it is the acquisition of the ability to engage with society. In other words, a lack of culture also means a loss of connection with society. Learning is the act of expanding one's world in solitude, and teaching is the act of sharing that world with others.
That is why the question now is not just about establishing systems. We are being asked to consider the kind of world we want to build and the kind of people we want to nurture to achieve it.
A nation is supported by people who ask questions, engage in dialogue, and think together. Education should be the place where these skills are nurtured.
With the HSC pass rate declining, now is the time to look beyond the numbers and look at the reality.
We need to transcend the boundaries of school and reconsider education as a national culture. This is not a question of budget or system, but of the will to shape this country's future.
As I walked through the tea plantations at dusk, I saw women carrying baskets on their heads hurrying home. From a distance, they resembled a single path.

Girls walked the opposite path, heading to their classrooms. After helping out around the house, they picked up notebooks and began learning to read again. They were like tiny rays of light.
Education is not about systems or numbers, but the light that shines within people. To ensure that this light does not go out, the nation and society must once again believe in the preciousness of learning.
Izumi Osaragi is an internationally awarded Japanese photojournalist and visual artist who explores social and cultural narratives through powerful visual storytelling.


