Schools in suspension
When schools closed early last month, Arsala Ali was as happy as any child can be at the thought of having no lessons. On March 9, Punjab Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz had announced the closure of all educational institutions until the end of the month in order to conserve fuel in the wake of the Gulf conflict. Arsala, a ninth-grader, planned to study at home using YouTube. However, internet issues often disturbed her study time. As the days turned to weeks, Arsala couldn't help but feel that her studies were getting affected. She is now feeling stressed about her exams and the pressure of appearing for board exams later. Her school did not start online classes. Arsa believes online classes are not facilitating enough anyway, suggesting that regular school schedules should be maintained for proper learning.
Schools in Pakistan seem to have the most flexible schedule in the world. Whenever a problem appears, the first thing to close is the classroom. A protest on the road, heavy rain, water shortages, fuel crises, or political tension, and classrooms are quickly shut down. Add religious events, public holidays, and special observances, and closures become even more frequent. Slowly, it is beginning to feel like education is always “on pause,” while everything else continues as usual.
School closures have become the default response to almost every crisis in Pakistan, leading to repeated disruptions instead of lasting solutions. While convenient in the short term, these closures break learning continuity and push students behind in their studies.
At the same time, education is often treated as a secondary priority. While official routines and protocols continue without major interruption, students face repeated breaks in learning with each closure. Over time, these disruptions weaken the foundation of education and raise a critical question: are we solving problems, or simply postponing them at the cost of our future?
And more importantly, do we truly want to educate our nation, or are we quietly moving toward keeping them illiterate?
Last year in Punjab, students attended school for only 127 days out of 365— this was not due to a global pandemic but because of additional holidays. This month, following the Punjab School Education Department's announcement, schools across the province will be open for only four days a week. With every Friday being off (adding another 52 days), the total number of actual school days may drop to around 80–90 days a year.
How are students supposed to learn under such circumstances? Already, about 26 million children are out of school. Even those who are enrolled are not being allowed to attend regularly, reportedly to save petrol and diesel. Meanwhile, in recent days, we continue to witness heavy official protocols for the chief minister, the prime minister, the president, and other ministers.
Punjab has demonstrated this troubling pattern: Three months of summer vacations, one month of winter holidays, and then an additional closure from March 10 to March 31. When these breaks are combined, a significant portion of the academic year simply disappears. These are not carefully structured academic pauses; they are disruptions that break the continuity of learning.
For parents, this is not a small issue. They spend their limited income on uniforms, books, and fees, seeing education as a way to secure a better future. But when schools remain closed repeatedly, they are left questioning what they are truly paying for.
And students are left in uncertainty without routine, guidance, or consistent learning, many lose focus and drift away from their studies. Lessons are forgotten, discipline weakens, and motivation declines. Everyday conversations inevitably circle back to the growing frustration citizens have with a system that is struggling to deliver.
I remember when, back in 2021, I asked a student of mine about his career goals for the future. He confidently replied that he wanted to become a doctor, which would not have been a shocking answer if he had not already graduated as a Bachelor in Arts! To say this reflects a clear lack of student guidance and career counselling is an understatement.
Across Pakistan, the pattern is the same—education is repeatedly interrupted.
In Sindh, the situation is even more complex. Schools remain closed on numerous occasions throughout the year: the Urs of the saint Lal Shahbaz Qalandar, Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai Day, Benazir Bhutto Day, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto Day, Shab-e-Barat, Shab-e-Mairaj, Pakistan Day, summer vacations, winter vacations, Chehlum of Imam Hussain (RA), Hazrat Ali (RA) Day, the last Friday of Ramadan, Shab-e-Qadr, Diwali, Independence Day, many other religious and political holidays, and other federal stipulated holidays.
Whereas we can argue that all these occasions have cultural, religious, or national importance, together they cause frequent closures that disrupt the academic calendar. As a result, learning becomes irregular and fragmented. The real issue is the cumulative impact of repeated interruptions in an already fragile system.
Parent-teacher struggle
In Pakistan, every crisis— be it political, economic, environmental, or security-related–often leads to one immediate response: closing schools. Smog, protests, floods, and fuel shortages all result in shutdowns or disruptions. While these decisions may seem justified for safety, the deeper issue is the lack of planning. Why is there no system to continue education during times of crisis, and why is closure always the first option?
The reality of school closures is best understood by those managing the system daily. Amtul Moqit, a school coordinator in Islamabad, said online education is still not a complete solution. “Our school is not fully capable of going online yet,” she said, noting that student participation remains inconsistent due to limited resources and engagement.
She emphasised that physical classrooms are more effective for one-to-one learning. She also mentioned mixed parental responses and highlighted that repeated closures lead to learning gaps, lower confidence, and increased inequality among students.
“School closures are just one of many problems,” said Anum Hyder, an area education manager. She stressed that the issue goes beyond temporary closures. “The system has deep flaws that need major reform,” she said. She noted that sudden government directives leave little time for planning, while online education remains limited due to lack of devices, internet, and suitable environments. “Frequent closures disrupt academic calendars, delay syllabus completion, and affect performance, while rising fuel costs reduce attendance. These repeated disruptions weaken foundational skills and widen learning gaps, reflecting a mindset where education is treated as non-essential.”
A tenth-grade student, Zaryab Khan, shared his concerns about repeated school closures. “It’s frustrating and we feel like we’re always on a break but not really learning.” He said his studies are suffering: “We’re falling behind, and it’s hard to catch up or focus at home.”
He also noted that online classes are less effective and often disrupted by internet issues and power outages. “It’s hard to stay motivated, and I’m worried about my exams and future.”
The recent closures as part of austerity measures in the face of an oil crisis highlight a more uncomfortable reality. Students are told to stay home to save fuel. School vans stop operating because fuel prices are too high. Parents struggle to manage transportation, often unable to afford the increased costs.
But at the same time, government expenses continue without visible reduction. After announcing policy steps to curb fuel consumption, the Prime Minister moved with extensive official protocol entailing between 37–40 cars during his visit to Karachi in March. Similarly, ministers and senior officials maintain their routines without reducing fuel use. Even during international visits and official engagements abroad, large delegations and full protocol arrangements continue. This contrast raises questions about our priorities; why must our children's education face repeated closures while other sectors operate with full resources and uninterrupted mobility?
A mother of an eighth-grade student, Abdul Wahab, highlighted the financial burden of education amid repeated closures. She said, “We spend around 25% to 30% of our income on education, yet schools remain closed.”
She said online classes are only a temporary solution and stressed that children need a physical learning environment. She also pointed to rising fuel costs affecting transport and noted that inconsistent policies are causing further concern, as some schools remain open while others are closed and not all parents can support learning at home.
Another parent, Nazish Sultana, expressed, “Children mostly don’t study at home; they spend time playing.”
Beyond closures, another major issue that is often overlooked is transport.
With rising fuel prices, school van drivers are struggling to operate. Many have stopped their services entirely, as the cost of fuel makes it financially unviable.
For many students, especially in cities and nearby areas, school transport is integral. Without it, they cannot reach school, so attendance drops even when schools are open. Authorities often suggest online classes during closures, but this does not match the reality on the ground.
An English teacher from Peshawar, Aasia, said repeated closures force teachers to rush lessons, affecting teaching quality and student understanding. It becomes difficult to complete the syllabus properly.
She noted that weaker students struggle the most during online classes. She added that not all students have equal access, making online education less effective without proper infrastructure and training.
Similarly, a teacher from Sindh, Tarim Khan, pointed out that online learning is not practical in many rural areas. “Students don’t have resources, and network issues make online classes impossible,” she said.
She stressed that primary-level students are the most affected and warned that closures will lead to unfinished syllabi and a need to restart learning from basics. She concluded that closures are causing a loss of time and effort for both teachers and students.
Pakistan is not a country where digital access is universal. Many families struggle to afford basic necessities, let alone multiple digital devices. In households with several children, the idea of each child attending online classes separately is unrealistic.
Internet access is a major barrier to online learning. Connectivity remains inconsistent in urban areas and extremely limited in rural regions. Electricity shortages further complicate the situation.
And then there is the question of public schools. Are they equipped to provide online education? In most cases, the answer is no.
Government schools lack the infrastructure and support for online learning, leaving many students cut off when schools close. Online education remains largely limited to those with resources in private institutions.
Urban vs rural, elite vs ordinary
With every disruption in school sessions, the inequality in Pakistan’s education system becomes more visible. Students in elite schools, particularly in major cities, continue their education through digital platforms as they have ready access to devices, stable internet, and structured learning environments.
In contrast, students in government schools, especially in rural areas and semi-urban centres, face complete disruption. For them, school closure means no learning at all.
This creates a divided system where one group keeps progressing while another is left behind, increasing inequality and shaping the country’s future. Inconsistent policies add to this imbalance. Some private schools even require students to attend in civil dress to avoid restrictions. With weak enforcement and unclear directives, schools, parents, and students are left uncertain, and their trust in the education system weakens further.
A computer science teacher from Hyderabad, Asma Niazi, explained that frequent school closures force teachers to rush through the syllabus, which affects students’ understanding of the subject. She noted that students often forget previous topics after long gaps and require repeated revision.
She said online classes are not very effective due to low attendance and lack of focus. “Students’ interest and performance have declined, with weaker students suffering the most due to lack of support.”
She said the education system is not fully prepared for such disruptions and needs better internet access, devices for students, and teacher training. She added that repeated closures create learning gaps and may increase illiteracy in the long run.
Pakistan’s education system already faces issues like outdated curricula, limited funding, untrained teachers, and inconsistent policies. Frequent closures worsen the situation by disrupting calendars, delaying exams, and rushing through syllabi, reducing real learning despite the rising number of degrees. In contrast, the system expects high intellectual standards in exams like CSS and PMS without consistently preparing students to meet them.
Pakistan’s literacy rate is around 60%, with over 26 million children out of school. Those enrolled often receive substandard education, and repeated closures with limited alternatives further worsen the situation.
Instead of reducing illiteracy, the system risks increasing it.
At some point, society must ask: are we becoming comfortable with an undereducated population? Education builds critical thinking, accountability, and awareness, but repeated disruptions weaken these abilities. The result is a less informed society, less able to question or challenge the status quo. Crises are inevitable, but how we respond reflects our national priorities.
If fuel can be allocated for official protocols and government offices can continue functioning, school transport and education can also be managed. What is needed is not just policies, but real commitment through investment in digital infrastructure, teacher training, hybrid learning models, and equal access for all students.
Closing schools may seem like a short-term solution, but its long-term impact is serious. Each closure disrupts learning, weakens the system, and leaves students less prepared for the future. Education must not be treated as optional; it is the foundation of national development. When classrooms remain closed, it is not just schools that suffer, but the future of the nation.
All facts and opinions are the responsibility of the writer
Rabia Khan covers social issues, literature, and cultural values of Pakistan. She can be reached at rabiayousufsai26@gmail.com