In early August, the Private Schools Action Committee and the All Pakistan Private Schools Management Association stated that “a further closure of the educational institutions would push teachers and other staffers towards a serious crisis.” Pervaiz Haroon, leader of PSAC said that, based on a Gallup Survey, 74 percent parents wanted their children to return to school, while also stating that schools had incurred big losses and the “the industry couldn’t tolerate it any more.”

On August 15, 25 schools in Swat were sealed for reopening early and disobeying government orders. Although the declining number of Covid-19 cases in Pakistan has engendered optimism, public health officials and researchers caution that a second wave can be expected.  

Then the Minister for Federal Education, Shafqat Mahmood, announced on August 22, that schools would reopen on September 15 with strict enforcement of SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures), “provided that health indicators improve” — a statement that caused private schools to stir into action. The same week, parents began receiving informative and reassuring notifications, updates and SOPs implementation measures from school administrators. Some even asked parents whether they preferred to continue distance learning or wanted more in-person learning.

Interestingly, according to one school survey, only one-third of parents were willing to send their children back to school, in contrast to the Gallup survey.

With one child in kindergarten and one in middle school, Neha, a mother of two has already decided she will be sending her older one to school while homeschooling the younger one. “I know my older one will be able to follow rules,” she says. “Even though it’s frustrating to make Azim sit still for his online class, I don’t think it is safe to send him back just yet. Can a four-year-old really follow all these SOPs?”  

The need to reopen schools for Pakistan’s 60 million school-age children, including preschoolers, is evident. Foremost of concern are the psychological consequences of children staying home: regressions, heightened depression and anxiety, greater digital dependence and the lack of social interaction. This is coupled with the frustrations of parents and teachers themselves and, particularly, students who are either struggling with online learning or don’t have access to it at all, despite paying full fees. With only 35 percent of Pakistanis having internet access, the digital and social divide has led to a further increase in the learning gap between the rich and the poor, causing education to be almost inaccessible for a majority. 

As the government contemplates reopening educational institutions on September 15, it may want to learn from the experiences of other countries that have already gone down this road in a continuing pandemic

In a Facebook parenting group, an argument erupts as mothers try to decide if sending their child back to school is the right choice. Mothers from around the world weigh in. Maria* tells me she’s sending her five-year-old son to school in New Jersey. “The pandemic isn’t going to end anytime soon, and it is best if the children learn to cope early on,” she writes.

Rubab, who lives in Copenhegan in Denmark, has been sending her girls to schools since they reopened after a four-week lockdown. “The teachers ensure social distancing, staggered timings, and there are only eight to 10 kids in a class at a time. The school installed new sinks and the kids wash their hands after every hour. On my part, I sanitise their hands once I pick them up, and the first thing to do once they get is home is wash up and change.” But even she’s unsure how Pakistani schools will manage.  

While the argument that “In Germany, Denmark, Norway, Sweden and many other countries, schools are open with no problems” (as one Twitter user claimed) has convinced some people, it would be wise to take a closer look at the experience of countries that reopened schools, before jumping the gun with a ‘well, it seems to be working for them.’

Denmark and Finland, countries that were at the forefront of reopening and had managed to contain the spread of the virus, planned for a gradual reopening of K–12 schools (from kindergarten to grade 12), starting with pre-schoolers. They followed evidence so far that indicated that the youngest children were less likely to get infected, and were more likely to be asymptomatic or have mild symptoms. The schools introduced new health and safety measures that included physical distancing, repeated hand-washing, sanitising all materials and equipment, reducing the number of hours, staggered drop-off and pick-up times and daily temperature checks. Additional toilets and sinks were also installed and most schools transitioned towards blended learning — a  mix of in-person and online learning.  

These countries’ decision was child-centric: the message being that a child’s right to education outweighed the health risk of going back to school. Faced with limited space in schools or reduced capacity to serve students, the governments asked families where one parent did not work, to keep the children at home.

Israel too reopened schools in late May after it had managed to contain the spread of the virus. Their reason, however, was slightly different. A new government had been sworn in and it was ‘desperate to reboot a devastated economy.’  Yoav Gallant, the new education minister, encouraged schools to reopen, stating that “the school system’s ‘immediate mission’ [is] to allow parents to return to work with peace of mind”, while also to “return the children to routine as much as possible, for their emotional and pedagogic well-being.”

The events that unfolded in the weeks following this decision offer a cautionary tale about understanding the importance of the implementation of SOPs across all schools.

The education ministry in Israel had issued SOPs that focused on open-air ventilation in rooms, frequent hand-washing, social distancing and masks for students in fourth grade and higher.

However, many schools had “up to 38 children squeeze into classrooms of about 500 square feet”, making it impossible to seat students six feet apart. Due to the lack of space or resources, many schools failed to implement SOPs. Some simply ignored them.

A heatwave followed, causing parents to complain that hot classrooms with open windows cancelling out the air conditioning made it unbearable for children to wear masks. The government responded by exempting everyone from wearing masks for four days and even allowed schools to shut windows for the time, creating perfect conditions for a major virus outbreak.  

Gymnasia Ha’ivrit High School (GHHS) in Jerusalem is a perfect example. Some 154 students and 26 staff members were later found to be infected with Covid-19, of which 60 percent of the infected students were asymptomatic. The virus quickly spread to students’ families, neighbourhoods and even other schools, causing schools to shut down again after GHHS won its record as possibly the largest outbreak in a single school.

However, closing schools indefinitely is not an option for Israel. This fall, the government is trying a different approach. Plans have been approved for second-grade students and lower to return to full-size classes. Older students will be split into capsules of 18, and fifth graders and above will have to make do with online learning. Schools have been allowed to adjust their policies based on their conditions.

But the debate continues. Did insufficient safety precautions in schools start the second wave of infections? More importantly, will the new measures be enough to prevent a third wave?

Misba continues to go teach in person in Sydney, Australia, a country currently tackling its second wave of infections. She says she has to constantly remind her students to maintain a distance. “The girls congregate, and are all over each other, all the time in the field,” she says. “Breaks, lunch, group work, in the woodworks room, we cannot have the mandatory distance. SOPs? I can honestly say, not many are followed.”

While Melbourne is fighting its second wave of infections by declaring a lockdown, schools in Sydney remain open. At least till someone tests positive. “It’s also overwhelming for us,” Misba says. “Every time someone tests positive, the school closes down. Massive contact tracing is done, along with quarantine. It is not easy. At all.”

The insights from these countries can offer guidance on when and how schools in Pakistan should reopen. But public health officials, experts and researchers continue to warn that school reopenings are still in their early stages. With Pakistan expecting its second wave, it is also important to understand where our education system currently stands.

In urban areas, 41 percent of children attend public schools while 59 percent of the students attend private schools, including madressahs. According to the Pakistan National Education Policy 2017 report, only 54 percent of primary schools have electricity; only 67 percent of schools have drinking water; only 68 percent have bathrooms, and only 72 percent have a boundary wall.

While the government has laid down strict guidelines, requiring schools to operate in three shifts spanning over three hours, with mandatory masks, temperature checks and social distancing, do we have contingency plans in place to contact trace, in case there is an outbreak? Is it fair to expect public and private schools with no running water to ensure regular hand-washing every few hours? Or for children to wear masks when there is no power?

Can private schools claiming to be struggling financially access the requisite resources and ensure proper sanitisation of desks and surfaces? Will the ripple effect of one low-budget private school failing to follow measures impact students studying in an elite campus? Will the constant reminders to maintain a distance from their teachers and friends further isolate our children and impact their personalities?

Most importantly, in our quest for ‘normality’, are we willing to take a risk and participate in a social experiment, or would we rather stay behind?

**Names changed to protect identity Zofishan Umair is a humour columnist, journalist and fiction writer based in Karachi*

Published in Dawn, EOS, August 30th, 2020