FAT Schools: Between Legacy, Uncertainty, and the Need for Reform

In Jammu and Kashmir, education has long been both a pathway of hope and a subject of political contestation. Few institutions illustrate this better than the network of schools associated with the Falah-e-Aam Trust (FAT). For decades, these schools have catered to children across rural and urban Kashmir, providing access to affordable education when state systems were either absent or insufficient. Today, however, they face a crisis of legitimacy, uncertainty, and survival under heightened government scrutiny.

The FAT schools were established in the 1960s, at a time when education was scarce and government institutions were almost non-existent in many parts of the state. Their mission was simple yet revolutionary: to make education accessible to the grassroots and the public at large. In villages and towns where formal schooling had not yet reached, FAT institutions became the torchbearers of literacy and learning.

Over the decades, these schools have produced generations of professionals, doctors, engineers, scientists, teachers, civil servants, and entrepreneurs. I myself am a product of these institutions. My journey from a rural Kashmiri classroom to completing a PhD in Computer Science Engineering would not have been possible without the foundation laid in one such school. This is not my story alone; it is shared by countless others whose lives were shaped by the educational opportunities provided by FAT institutions.

Crucially, FAT schools have maintained affordability, charging minimal fees to ensure that children from low- and middle-income families are not excluded. At the same time, they follow the syllabus prescribed by the Jammu and Kashmir Board of School Education (JKBOSE), align with the National Education Policy 2020, and undergo continuous academic monitoring by the government. Far from being autonomous outliers, they operate within the framework of state guidelines and educational standards.

Despite this legacy, FAT schools now face serious challenges. The government has directed Deputy Commissioners to oversee the creation of school management committees, ostensibly to ensure accountability and transparency. While community involvement in school governance is not inherently problematic indeed, parent-teacher committees could strengthen inclusivity, the way this process is being framed has created anxiety.

Many parents and staff fear that the new committees will be imposed from the top down, reducing schools to bureaucratic instruments rather than community-driven institutions. For real reform, such committees must be inclusive, involving parents, students, staff, and local representatives, rather than being limited to government nominees. If financial or academic audits are necessary, they should be transparent and fair, not punitive.

The greater challenge lies in perception. With schools repeatedly placed under the scanner of district administrations, many parents fear instability. They hesitate to admit their children, worried that institutions may be shut down or derecognized. This fear directly impacts enrollment, financial stability, and ultimately, the salaries of thousands of teachers, many of whom already face unpaid dues stretching over one to two years.

The problem is not new. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, FAT schools have been mired in uncertainty. In the same period, government orders linked them to Jamaat-e-Islami, creating doubts about their continuity. Many parents stopped paying fees, unsure if the schools would exist the following year. Teachers the backbone of these institutions went months and even years without salaries.

Delays in granting registrations and affiliations only worsened the crisis. On several occasions, students graduating from Class 10 were unable to obtain timely certifications, jeopardizing their futures. This cycle of ambiguity has placed unbearable strain on parents, students, and staff alike.

It must be underscored: the government already monitors these schools. Their syllabus, examinations, results, and even daily operations are linked with JKBOSE and relevant authorities. To continually keep them under suspicion is to undermine both their credibility and the mental health of the students enrolled.

If the government’s true aim is reform and accountability, it must pursue a balanced approach:

• Ensure clear recognition and affiliation for FAT schools so that parents feel secure about their children’s future.

• Support inclusivity by creating parent-teacher committees that genuinely represent the community.

• Clear pending dues and streamline fee collection, ensuring that thousands of teachers are not left without livelihoods.

• Recognize the historical contributions of FAT schools since the 1960s and build upon their strengths rather than dismantling them.

The FAT schools are not merely educational institutions; they are part of Kashmir’s social fabric, born in an era when education was scarce and sustained by communities determined to learn. To push them into perpetual uncertainty is to risk undoing decades of progress and to punish the very children who rely on them for a better future. Reform, if needed, should be constructive, inclusive, and rooted in dialogue with parents, teachers, and students not in punitive oversight or political tagging.

At a time when Jammu and Kashmir needs educational empowerment more than ever, dismantling or delegitimizing FAT institutions would be a grave disservice. Instead, their legacy should be acknowledged, their shortcomings addressed through dialogue, and their future secured for the generations yet to come.