SHILLONG: For decades, Meghalaya’s education system has staggered under the weight of crisis after crisis—teacher agitations, qualification deficits, erratic salaries, and a maze of unclear policies. And earlier today, Chief Minister Conrad K. Sangma said Meghalaya’s education crisis runs deeper than vacancies—It’s a Structural Breakdown.
The problem, he said, is not a shortage of teachers. Not a shortage of money. Not even a shortage of policy.
It is the structure itself—a system so fragmented, so politicised, and so riddled with competing interests that it cannot function as a single organism.
Twenty-five Teacher Associations—One Broken System
It is astounding, but not surprising, that Meghalaya has nearly 25 teacher associations. What should have been a collaborative environment has become a pressure cooker of factionalism.
And for years, governments were aware of this truth—avoiding confrontation, offering short-term fixes, and allowing the system to drift deeper into dysfunction.
The structure is broken.
Another uncomfortable truth: a significant section of the teaching workforce lacked the required qualifications. And yet the system absorbed them because no one wanted to spark a political storm.
Only now, with national norms tightening and education outcomes stagnating, has the State begun nudging teachers toward compliance. Credit where due: many are responding positively, taking steps to meet standards.
But this should not have taken decades. The future of Meghalaya’s children should never have been held hostage by administrative hesitations.
Money Is Flowing, But to What End?
The State spends ₹1,200 crore every year on grant-in-aid for deficit, ad hoc schools, and colleges. That is more than the budget of some entire departments. More than half of the budget allocated to the Education Department is spent on salary. So, sights of schools that lack basic infrastructure should come as no surprise. But then again, depriving the students of these basic amenities like a liveable school building, clean drinking water, clean toilets, etc. must not be compromised. The government must find a way out of this mess.
Where is the return on investment?
The answer lies again in the structure—funds spill into a system with no standardisation, no uniform accountability, and no clear lines of responsibility.
The Proposed Salary Reform
The government’s move to restructure the salary system for 20,000 ad hoc and SSA teachers is more than a financial decision. It is a political gamble. It challenges the status quo, threatens entrenched interest groups, and attempts to bring predictability to a sector defined by uncertainty.
The Chief Minister noted that if implemented well, this new structure could: stabilise teaching jobs, end cycles of protests, and and introduce a performance-linked, accountable framework.
If mishandled, it could deepen mistrust among teachers already fatigued by decades of policy flip-flops.
The stakes are enormous.
Sangma’s insistence on “empathy” is welcome. Reforms without compassion eventually collapse. But let us be clear: empathy should not become an excuse for inaction.
Meghalaya cannot afford another decade of indecision. Every year wasted is a cohort of children lost to poor foundational learning.
If the government truly wants to “carry everyone along,” then it must communicate transparently, negotiate honestly, and implement reforms with consistency—not rhetoric.
Let’s face it —celebrating a school that survived through perseverance—was not lost. But admiration for resilience should not overshadow the urgent need for systemic correction.
Meghalaya does not need another committee. It needs courage, consistency — a single, unified, accountable system that puts children—not associations, not politics—at the centre.
The government seems ready to challenge the entrenched interests that shaped this broken system. Whether it succeeds will determine not just policy outcomes, but the educational future of an entire generation.
