Lure of a B.Ed degree brings outsourcing to the Valley

Here all the way from Hamirpur in Himachal to earn a B.Ed degree, Priya is the face of the turbulent Valley’s newest industry: education. In these poll times, she is also the bridge between the Valley and the rest of India. While Kashmiri parents have, for years, been sending their children to other parts of the country to further their studies in peace, the Valley itself has, quietly, become a B.Ed magnet for students from Himachal, Punjab, Haryana and Rajasthan. And no, the militants have never targeted these ‘‘outsiders’’, never killed this money-spinner that flourished by answering a need.

You don’t need need a B.Ed degree to start work as a teacher in Kashmir. But other states demand this degree of their teachers even though they have limited vacancies. Enter the Kashmiri alternative, where admission is easy and degrees are recognised.

There was one private B.Ed college in the 1980s. Today there are 47. The road from Srinagar to Baramulla is flanked by apples trees, soldiers in green and colleges that offer a licence to teach.

Sitting in his plush office, G A Rather, principal of JET College which set shop in March 1996, says that 200 of his 250 students are ‘‘outsiders’’. At Pattan, only 10 per cent of students at the Al Huda college are from Kashmir.

Rachpal Singh from Fazilka in Punjab confesses that he thought of the Valley only when he flunked the B.Ed entrance test in his own state. Kashmir University accepts even graduates who scored just 40 per cent but has given its degree a stamp of respectability by centralising admissions and faculty recruitment.

The fees may be just Rs 22,000 a year but most students end up spending about Rs 70,000, including boarding and mess bills.

The industry which took root at the same time as the Valley plunged into violence and students’ rupees replaced tourist dollars. The militants were strangely accommodating.

Prof Shivdev Singh, who used to be chief warden of the Muslim Education Trust (MET) hostel, recalls a day in the November of 1990 when some miilitants asked him to stay away the building.

‘‘When I asked them what about these girls who have come from outside, they said they would give me a day to take them away.’’ The professor sent the girls back home soon after sunrise. A day later, a blast ripped through the hostel building.

Since then, the outsiders and the Valley have struck a happy balance. The students get their degrees and a passport to teach in their states. Kashmir’s literate youngsters, on the other hand, do their best to land a lecturer’s job at a B.Ed college. The post pays Rs 8,000 compared to Rs 1,500 that a teacher on contract would earn elsewhere, said Javed Chisti who teaches at JET College.

Prof M A Sheikh, former principal of the B.Ed college at Kupwara, who’s set up Quality Education Trust in Baramulla this year, says there’s more to it than money. ‘‘It helps remove misgivings that people have about the Valley and vice-versa.’’

This is true. Rachpal Singh, who’s been here for barely two weeks, admits it’s made him see the Valley in a different light. ‘‘The people are quite helpful, and I don’t think anyone supports the gun.’’

It’s this heady cocktail of the beautiful valley and its gentle people that has drawn Anil Sharma back to Baramulla. He came here for a B.Ed degree in 2000. Having earned it, he has returned as a warden at JET, his alma mater. In the Valley, where the soldier represents India, he is a welcome change.