Without thinking much, I signed up for the Urban Society course -- an elective offered by my department. As part of the coursework, I went to the Korail slum for fieldwork purposes, trying my best to keep an open mind to whatever I was about to encounter.
As someone who has been living in Dhaka for some time and has been passionate about learning about the social anomalies in Bangladesh, the possibility of knowing more about Korail slum-dwellers was intriguing. Luckily, I bumped into a research prompt after the fieldwork.
The observed reality, however, is not entirely pleasant.
The flowery discourse on “the rise of students in local schools” do not reflect the realities of declining male students, child labour, and the locals’ only option of leading a slightly better life through the means of education. It is high time we stopped associating the visible faces of students at school with the actual earning of education and the successful providence of basic human and child rights.
Let me start by highlighting how unequal the access to school education is for the relatively poorer family within the Korail slum context. Unlike what I had imagined, the schools were filled with students, run by a structured administrative system, and have almost an equal male-to-female student ratio, the latter group representing the bigger portion.
From a privileged standpoint, this image might seem utopian unless the nuances are taken into account, because education is the only option they have which -- despite being cheap -- is not affordable for many.
A headmaster of a local school there shared: “The parents cannot always pay. The tuition fee for primary school students is Tk300. Sometimes, they cannot deliver this amount either.” Despite the expenditure, according to the teachers, the parents support their children by sending them to schools for education. However, depending on financial constraints, many pay less. “We do not pressure them, because they do not always have money. How can they pay if they are in financial distress?” added one of the teachers.
Maayer Doa Bidyaniketon and High School, the private school we visited, had three shifts: Morning, day, and night. The night shift is for the students who work during the daytime. Given the difference in the accessibility of education, not everyone's time and money align in a way that would enable them to learn at peace.
Upon asking some sixth and seventh graders what they wanted to become after finishing their education, most said they wanted to help their parents in local shops or join/start a business. The last thing I want to hear from a sixth grader is “my father won't allow me to go to school if I don't earn at night,” or “my brother works during the daytime. If he gets time, he attends the night shift classes.”
A lot needs to be unpacked about what happens in night shift schools and what the project owners do to make obtaining an education more easily accessible against this backdrop.
Unsure if I should call it an advantage, the female students, in this case, do not have to be in the child labour market. However, they face a different kind of pressure. They are expected to help their mothers at home with domestic work. Considering a good number of Korail slum women work outside their homes (as project workers of various NGOs, INGOs, etc), the daughters are expected to help their mothers, which, at times, becomes exhausting for them.
One of the ninth grader female students mentioned, “I finish my homework here. I do not get time to study at home because I have to help my mother.” Another student shared a similar sentiment: “Both my mother and I remain tired, but we ought to cook.” Albeit the probable response being entirely predictable, I couldn't help asking: “Doesn't your father or brother help with cooking?” Nothing but innocent laughter came as an answer, reminding me one more time of the patriarchal gender roles.
My preconceived notions regarding slums were linear, considering poverty and deprivation of fundamental human rights are the only images I had in mind. In a sense, however, this holds a lot of truth.
As Iftekhar Ahmed (2014) puts it, there is not much effort from the government to protect the dwellers’ basic rights. Consequently, the emergence of mafia enforcers and local rent collectors (informal landlords) took place. All these are directly connected to the mistreatment by police and the rise in crimes like pickpocketing and hijacking.
As I view it, it is pretty easy to forget the contextual complexities of people from lower socioeconomic classes if we choose not to look beyond the skyrocketing numbers. A myriad number of the students of the Korail slum, in this case, are indeed getting an education.
Unfortunately, on the flip side remain cases of child labour, extra pressure on the female students within their domestic sphere, and an overall struggle of committing time and patience to the long process of acquiring institutional education. Despite all that, the feel-good stories are not uncommon to us.
Within the Bangladeshi context, education is not only a fundamental human right but also a huge catalyst for anyone who wants to climb up the social ladder. Having that said, the children of local shop owners are currently enrolled at universities, pursuing tertiary education. Hence, it is not entirely an unattainable dream for many slum-dwellers.
People residing in the Korail slum have lived in this place long enough to call it their home and vigorously develop a sense of belonging. To cope with the changing social, economic, and political dynamics, slum dwellers have shaped and reshaped their lives in ways that make them more suitable for Dhaka. Located in Dhaka, yet entirely detached from the extravagant realities of it, one of the choices they make to sustain their lives better is to attend school -- earn degrees, to be precise.
Within the popular development narrative, slum-people are often portrayed as a group deprived of education and awareness regarding the significance of acquiring it. Essentially, access to education -- despite all the struggles -- is shown as an aspirational milestone, legitimizing such views.
Helping the strugglers combat their struggles differs from creating readily available opportunities (like institutional education) that might or might not pay off in the long run. Which party is actually at the receiving end of the broader benefits here? Indeed, an important question.
Mashaekh Hassan is a freelance contributor.
