The MDCAT results and the crisis of our collective mindset

Some time ago, when debate over the creation of new provinces in Pakistan intensified, a storm of opinion arose across the country. Some called it an administrative necessity, others opposed it. Some linked it to national development, while others viewed it through the lens of their political or regional priorities. In short, everyone expressed an opinion according to his or her own perspective.

In Sindh, however, the debate assumed a different character. Whether new provinces should be created is a separate and highly important question, but it is not the subject of this article. The real concern is the linguistic and regional divide that has once again emerged within Sindh as a result of this debate. The fear that efforts are being made to widen the distance between Sindhi- and Urdu-speaking citizens in Sindh is no longer merely a fear. On social media, extremely inappropriate, hateful and, at times, unspeakable language is being used against one another. As usual, a few mischief-makers have played their part in further poisoning the atmosphere. As a result, even people who have no personal disagreement with one another, and who have lived together for years in the same city, province and social system, have begun to view each other with suspicion.

Karachi, the economic center of Sindh and, for a long period, the provincial capital, appears to be suffering most from this tension. Many Urdu-speaking citizens living in Karachi are developing a general mistrust of people from the interior of Sindh, while similar prejudices against Karachi and its residents are being encouraged in other parts of the province, specially peripheries of Sindh. The roots of this situation run deep. In Karachi’s past politics, the hateful speeches and political methods of certain leaders strengthened linguistic divisions. In later periods, harsh and inflammatory language used by some nationalist political and non-political forces and various groups in the interior of Sindh deepened the divide further. Thus, the mistrust created between the two sides now risks being passed from one generation to the next.

The situation has reached the point where, whenever any incident occurs, whether or not it has any direct connection with linguistic or regional politics, a new wave of suspicion immediately begins. Karachi’s citizens feel that the Sindh government or people from the interior are deliberately treating them unjustly, while some circles in the interior hold similar generalized views about the people of Karachi.

This situation is not merely regrettable, it is dangerous.

We must not forget that we are all citizens of the same country, live in the same province and are connected to one another through our economic, social and human rights. Islam teaches equality, brotherhood and respect among human beings. The Holy Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) gave us a clear concept of human equality: no Arab has superiority over a non-Arab, nor a non-Arab over an Arab, except through piety. Sadly, however, we have almost removed these teachings from our collective life.

A distressing manifestation of this same mental and social climate was witnessed after the recent MDCAT results.

Students from Thar achieved notable success, while some students from Karachi fell behind in the competition. Whether there was any irregularity, corruption or examination malpractice in the MDCAT results is a separate matter. If anyone has evidence, the relevant institutions should investigate it and establish the truth. That is their responsibility.

But that is not the central question of this article. The real question is: How did we respond to these results? Is the success of a student from Thar a defeat for a student from Karachi?

Is the dream of a young person from Thar to become a doctor an enemy of the dream of a young person from Karachi?

And does a good result by a student from a remote, underdeveloped or resource-poor area prove that Karachi’s students are intellectually inferior?

Certainly not.

Yet the way some students from Thar were mocked and ridiculed on social media, and the attempts to cast doubt on their intelligence, reveal an extremely troubling aspect of our collective behavior. It was as though the students of Thar were not human beings but creatures from another world, as though their brains lacked the cells found in the brains of Karachi’s students; as though a student from Thar could never outperform a student from Karachi.

This is not merely bad manners; it is an open expression of prejudice.

The truth is that Karachi’s students falling behind in a single examination is not an unnatural event. In a competitive world, one person leads at one time and another at the next. Success in an examination is not the property of any particular city, language, community or region. If a student from Thar works hard and moves ahead, that achievement should be celebrated, not met with mockery of the student’s identity, region or intelligence. Instead, this is the moment to ask a fundamental question of Karachi’s education system:

Why are our children not achieving the results that their hard work deserves?

Karachi’s students face a long list of problems, which can be discussed in detail in another article. A few fundamental points, however, deserve consideration here. One major problem for Karachi’s students is the sprawling and diverse network of private educational institutions across the city. Every school has its own curriculum, educational standards and teaching methods. One system operates in one place and another elsewhere. In some institutions, there is a race for O and A Levels; in others, different examination boards dominate; and elsewhere, separate academies and coaching centers have become an industry of their own.

A child moves continuously between different educational systems from primary school to middle school, and then through matriculation and intermediate education. The problem becomes even more complicated when the student begins preparing for an entrance test for higher education. Some students study for years according to the O- or A-Level curriculum, while the format and requirements of a university entrance test may be entirely different. They must then suddenly determine which curriculum, books and examination pattern will be followed. As a result, they turn to academies and coaching centers for additional preparation.

And here another problem arises.

Education, which should be a sacred responsibility, becomes merely a business in many places. A price is placed on students’ futures. Different academies offer their own packages, while parents, fearful for their children’s future, continue paying fees at one institution after another. By contrast, many students in the interior of Sindh, particularly those from Thar, generally continue their education within a single system. They do not have the same variety of large private educational systems found in Karachi, the constant choice between different curricula and examination boards, or, in many cases, the financial resources available in major cities. It is also a fact that limited resources can sometimes make a person more focused, hardworking and determined.

Therefore, if a student from Thar achieves a good result in the MDCAT, that success should not be used as an argument against the student. It should be recognized as the triumph of determination, hard work and ability. And if a student from Karachi falls behind, we should review our own education system rather than blame the student from Thar.

• We must examine where the foundations of our children’s education are weak.
• We must see how the gaps between different educational systems are affecting their future.
• We must determine whether our private educational institutions are genuinely providing quality education or have merely become part of a vast educational business.
• We must also ask why there is no uniform and transparent system of preparation for entrance tests.

Above all, we must ask whether we are preparing our children for competition or simply leaving them to wander among different educational systems, examination boards and academies.

• The success of a child from Thar is not the failure of a child from Karachi.
• One child’s progress does not push another child backwards.
• The real defeat occurs when we cannot tolerate someone else’s success.

The real depth of our intellectual decline is revealed when we rely on prejudice instead of reason, make accusations instead of conducting inquiries, and mock a student’s hard work simply because that student does not belong to our city, speak our language or come from our region.

If Karachi’s students are genuinely being treated unfairly, we should identify their problems, question educational policies, review the examination system and demand equal opportunities for them. But Karachi’s students cannot receive justice through the humiliation of a student from Thar. On the contrary, such behavior will only widen the existing distance between the two parts of Sindh. And let us think for a moment: if we continue sowing these seeds of hatred, and our disagreements over provinces or administrative divisions do not reach any conclusion, how will we face one another tomorrow?

We have to live with one another.

We have to live in Sindh, Punjab, KPK, Balochistan, Kashmir, GB, and when other provinces developed, in those provinces, it means, ultimately in Pakistan, share one another’s joys and sorrows, and build a better future for our children.

The time has therefore come to reduce hatred, remove the lens of prejudice and protect our children’s future from being sacrificed at the altar of linguistic and regional politics. If we want Karachi’s students to receive their due rights, we must secure those rights not by abusing students from Thar, but by correcting the weaknesses in Karachi’s education system. And congratulating a student from Thar on success does not diminish the hard work of a student from Karachi.

Sindh’s true success will come when the child from Thar succeeds, the child from Karachi succeeds, the child from the interior of Sindh succeeds, and no one’s success becomes a cause for hatred against another.

• If we must compete, let us compete in ability, not prejudice.
• If we must raise questions, let us question the system, not a student’s identity.

And if we want to build our children’s future, let us do so not by erecting walls of hatred, but by building bridges of education, equality, merit and mutual respect. For the measure of a society’s intellectual maturity is not only how many marks its children obtain; it is also how well they learn to rejoice in the success of others.