Transformation Of Government Education

In a radical policy shift aimed at dismantling the two-tiered education system that has long divided Nepali society, Prime Minister Balendra Shah has issued a directive: send children, including those of all government employees, to government-run schools. The vision is noble—to strengthen public institutions and prevent the economic and social segregation where the elite escape to private schools while the masses languish in underfunded state ones. 

However, the abruptness of this transition threatens to collapse a fragile system. Nepal’s government schools, plagued by inadequate infrastructure, ambiguous language policies, and a legacy of politically appointed, underqualified teachers, are currently unfit to absorb a mass exodus from private institutions. Yet, with a phased, transparent, and investment-heavy strategy, this crisis can be transformed into a national revival for public education.

Physical infrastructure

The most immediate hurdle is physical infrastructure. Government schools in districts like Sindhupalchok or even on the outskirts of Kathmandu often lack sufficient classrooms, functioning toilets, clean drinking water, and basic science labs. Many operate in double shifts simply to accommodate existing students. If even twenty per cent of private school children shift overnight, classrooms will exceed capacities of 80 to 100 students, making meaningful learning impossible. Prime Minister Shah’s idealism cannot conjure buildings out of thin air. The sudden influx would lead to overcrowding, health hazards, and a subsequent flight back to private tuition centres, defeating the policy’s purpose.

Furthermore, the language of instruction presents a deep ideological rift. Most private schools in Nepal operate in English medium, positioning it as a gateway to higher education and global employment. Government schools predominantly use Nepali medium, with English taught as a subject. Parents fear that shifting their children to Nepali-medium schools will erode their competitive edge. Conversely, simply declaring all government schools “English medium” overnight is impractical, as neither the curriculum nor the teachers are prepared for such a transition. Without a clear, hybrid model that strengthens bilingual education, parents will see the policy as a punishment rather than an opportunity.

Perhaps the most intractable problem is human resources. For decades, teacher appointments in Nepal’s public schools were influenced by political patronage rather than pedagogical merit. Consequently, many government school teachers lack subject mastery, modern teaching methodologies, or the motivation to innovate. Regular absenteeism is high, and accountability is low. These are the very educators who would suddenly be responsible for teaching the children of doctors, engineers, and civil servants. Without a radical overhaul of teacher recruitment, training, and performance evaluation, no amount of infrastructure will deliver quality education.

So, how do we solve this multi-headed crisis? The solution lies not in a sudden decree but in a proper planning and tackling the core problem in different stages. I propose here four stages to tackle the problem. 

 In the first stage, the government should implement the policy beginning with grades 1 and 6, and expanding upward each year. This allows time for infrastructure upgrades using a dedicated education fund. This can be done by reallocating subsidies previously given to private schools and from corporate social responsibility mandates. Prefabricated classrooms, solar panels, and rapid sanitation projects can be executed within 18 months for high-density areas.

In the second stage, confusion created due to dual languages in government schools and private boarding schools should be tackled. To counteract this problem, government schools should adopt a transitional model: core subjects taught in Nepali for conceptual clarity, combined with a mandatory, high-quality English language lab from grades 1 to 8. By grade 9, a parallel English-medium section can be introduced in every municipality. This respects Nepali identity while ensuring no child is left behind in the global economy.

In the third stage, the government must conduct a one-time, independent competency exam for all existing government teachers. Those who fail should be offered a dignified voluntary retirement or redeployment to non-teaching administrative roles. Simultaneously, a new fast-track recruitment system—offering competitive salaries, performance-based bonuses, and rigorous training at newly established regional teaching academies—must be launched. Incentives like rural postings with housing allowances will attract young, motivated educators.

School Management Committee

In the fourth stage, each government school should form a powerful School Management Committee that includes parents of enrolled children, including government employees. These committees would have the authority to review teacher attendance, approve infrastructure spending, and recommend contract renewals. Transparency portals showing daily classroom activities and teacher logs can rebuild trust.

Prime Minister Balendra Shah’s ambition to rejuvenate government schooling is the right battle. But wars are won with strategy, not slogans. Without phased infrastructure growth, a pragmatic bilingual policy, and a surgical strike on political appointments in teaching, the policy will fail and further entrench educational inequality. 

However, if Nepal commits to this four-stage transformation as mentioned above, the day will come when a government school is not a last resort but a first choice—producing citizens who are neither victims of a broken system nor refugees to private ones, but confident inheritors of a truly public future.

(Thapa is a Pokhara-based writer. He is a regular contributor to The Rising Nepal.  writerlbthapa@gmail.com)