So many Kamalas

Column for Mathrubhumi

 

(Translated in Malayalam)

 

 

Many Indians celebrated the nomination of Kamala Harris as the vice-presidential candidate for the Democratic Party for the November presidential election in the US. They did so because her mother was an Indian from Chennai, who went to the US for higher studies, stayed on, and married a Jamaican academic.  Kamala is the older of her two daughters.

 

But for every Kamala who makes it, either here or in America, there are literally millions of potential Kamalas whose dreams never come true. Not because they lack the intelligence, but because they were never given the opportunity. It was denied to them not because they, or their parents did something wrong, but because they were born into poverty, and remained there.  And a key component that could have helped them rise above poverty, a good education, was out of their reach.

 

The Covid-19 pandemic has pushed many more poor children behind in their desire to get an education as I mentioned in my last column. And often for no other reason than not having a gadget that will allow them to continue to learn.

 

You don't have to travel to a remote area of India to see this great "unlearning" taking place.  Take Mumbai, the richest city in India. Millions come to the city looking for work. They find it, even though they struggle to find a decent place to live. But by being in this large metropolis, they have a chance to provide their children with an education they might not have received in the villages from where they originally migrated to Mumbai.

 

The backbone of education for poor children are the schools run by the municipal corporation. They have many deficiencies, but they guarantee a minimum level of education to these poor children.

 

Today, because of the pandemic, all these schools are closed.  Children who go to expensive private schools continue with their classes online. For the children who go to municipal schools, there is simply no option but to sit out the entire term.

 

An organisation called Pratham, which has worked for years in the area of education, recently conducted a survey for the municipal corporation to assess how many children were affected.  Out of 2,46,626 children studying in municipal schools, 81,603 could not access online classes. This is a huge number for a city like Mumbai, virtually one out of every three.

 

Amongst these, 52 per cent were children of migrant workers who had left the city with their families because they had no work. It is unlikely that these children will be able to pursue education in their villages. The survey also revealed that 76 per cent of students did not access to smartphones.

 

Even in Dharavi, a place that is recognised worldwide and is often the focus of media attention, 60 per cent of the students at one school that was surveyed had no smart phones.  The common refrain of parents was that when they had no money for food, how could they afford a smart phone.

 

Fortunately, the municipal corporation has decided to set up learning centres so that these students can attend physical classes. But this might already be too little, too late.

 

For me, personally, Dharavi has a special resonance. One of the things that struck me in 1999, when I was researching for my book "Rediscovering Dharavi", was the large number of schools in what is called Asia's largest slum. There were Tamil, Marathi, Urdu, Hindi and English medium schools.  Every family I interviewed, whatever their religion or caste, was determined to get their children educated. They saw this as the only way forward. 

 

I wonder today how many potential Kamalas have lost their chance to move ahead in their lives.