Many politicians, bureaucrats and intellectuals compete to claim credit for enshrining free and compulsory school education in Nepal’s Constitution, particularly after the restoration of multiparty democracy in 1990. Yet few seem aware that the promise predates them all. The Constitution of Nepal, 1948, Part VI states, “As soon after the commencement of this Act as expedient, the Government shall provide for universal, free, compulsory, elementary education…”
Why does free and compulsory education, constitutionally committed 77 years ago, still remain unfulfilled? The uncomfortable truth is that what has been repeatedly proclaimed as a progressive achievement is, in fact, an unfinished obligation. The rhetoric of free education has flourished; its realization has withered.
Successive rulers have mastered the art of announcement without implementation. Grand declarations are made, slogans are crafted, and constitutional guarantees are celebrated. But policies that do not translate into practice are little more than ceremonial promises. A right delayed for generations is a right denied.
Problem of mismanagement
The familiar defense is Nepal is a resource-poor country. But this argument is misleading. The problem is inefficiency, mismanagement and corruption. If the existing revenues are managed well, Nepal could finance free education and basic healthcare for its citizens. Nations far poorer than ours have done so through prioritization and accountability.
More than one-third of Nepal’s about 30 million population is youth—generally the healthiest segment of society. The number of citizens requiring intensive and sustained medical care is not overwhelming. Moreover, preventive measures—reducing air pollution, ensuring clean drinking water, promoting safe and nutritious food, and strengthening public hygiene—can drastically lower long-term healthcare expenditure. Prevention is not merely better but also cheaper than a cure.
Sri Lanka, since the mid-1940s, has been providing free education from primary to university level, despite economic bankruptcy and political turbulence. The success of that model did not rest solely on wealth, but on policy continuity, administrative discipline, and sustained public commitment. Thus, free education is not a fantasy reserved for affluent nations; it is a question of governance and resolve.
When it comes to education, the challenge is less financial than managerial. Nepal already allocates significant resources to the education sector. The question is how effectively those resources are utilized. Proper management of teachers and rationalisation of recurrent costs could substantially improve outcomes without dramatically increasing expenditure.
One major impediment is the excessive politicization and unionization of teachers. There are almost as many teachers’ unions as political parties, and many teachers are more accountable to partisan interests than to students. Unionization, historically, was a shield against authoritarianism. But today, unions often function less as protectors of rights and more as pressure groups resisting reform.
Rights divorced from responsibility breed disorder. Maintaining the scaffolding long after the building is complete makes little sense. Similarly, preserving union structures that obstruct administrative reform undermines the very system they claim to defend. Resistance to merging under-enrolled schools, primarily to avoid teacher redeployment, has resulted in an irrational distribution of staff. In some schools, teachers outnumber students. In others, classrooms are overcrowded.
The student–teacher ratio (STR) further illustrates systemic imbalance. Nepal stipulates 50 students per teacher in the Tarai and valley regions, 45 in the hills, and 40 in mountain districts for public schools. Private schools operate within a range of 22 to 44 students per teacher, averaging 33. These figures reveal inconsistency and a lack of pedagogical grounding.
Globally, recommended STRs differ by level: approximately 1:25 to 1:30 in primary and 1:30 to 1:40 in secondary education. In Nepal, however, the minimum threshold is at 1:40. Research demonstrates a correlation between manageable class size and improved learning outcomes. When classrooms are overcrowded, teaching turns mechanical; learning becomes passive.
Compulsory education in Nepal has faltered for two principal reasons. First, for many low-income families, the opportunity cost of schooling remains high. Children contribute to household income through labour, agriculture, or domestic work. Without tangible incentives—scholarships, conditional cash transfers, school meals, or livelihood support—compulsion alone cannot override economic necessity.
Second, enforcement mechanisms remain weak. While punitive measures must be designed cautiously, the state cannot declare education compulsory and then treat non-compliance as inconsequential. Linking certain state services, e.g., driving licenses to minimum educational attainment could create incentives. Compulsion without consequence is merely advice.
Meanwhile, the steady rise of private schools reflects growing public disillusionment with government institutions. What was envisioned as a system of equitable public education has increasingly bifurcated into a two-tier structure: one for those who can afford private fees and another for those who cannot, producing effectively two categories of citizens.
Questionable practices
The Secondary Education Examination, a rechristened version of the former SLC, has also contributed to distortion. The race for higher pass percentages has incentivized rote learning and, in some instances, questionable practices. Private schools often secure superior results not necessarily through superior pedagogy but through exam-oriented drilling and, occasionally, undue influence. The examination, instead of measuring learning, often measures memorisation.
The Economic Survey 2081/82 BS shows public schools declined from 35,876 in the academic year 2080 BS to 35,447 in 2081 BS. The proportion of students enrolled in public schools dropped from 69.9 per cent to 66.2 per cent within a year, while private school enrolment rose from 30.1 per cent to 33.8 per cent. Furthermore, 15,273 public schools have fewer than 100 students. These numbers are not mere statistics; they are warning signals.
They indicate a slow erosion of public trust. A system that was meant to be the great equalizer is steadily losing ground. Nepal does not lack constitutional commitments, but execution. It does not lack schools, but strategic consolidation. It does not lack teachers, but accountability. Until policy shifts from proclamation to performance, free and compulsory education will remain another chapter in a history of deferred rights.
(Sedhai is a freelance writer.)