By Dr Zawwar Hussain
Pakistan is often described through the familiar lens of four provinces and four seasons. But such simplifications conceal a more complex reality, one that has profound implications for the country’s education system. Beyond Punjab, Sindh, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and Balochistan lies Gilgit-Baltistan—a region that is not merely a geographical periphery but a linchpin of Pakistan’s water security and ecological balance. Beyond the usual seasonal cycle, Pakistan experiences a fifth season: the monsoon, which, for all its life-giving qualities, brings disruption, danger, and profound challenges for schools and communities alike. Understanding these complexities is not a matter of academic pedantry; it is a prerequisite for designing educational policies that are humane, effective, and forward-looking.
Across Pakistan, seasonal extremes are not abstract concepts—they shape daily life, dictate movement, influence health, and determine the very rhythm of learning. Summers in southern Punjab, upper Sindh, and large parts of Balochistan can see temperatures soar above fifty degrees Celsius. In such conditions, the continuation of a standard academic calendar is more than inconvenient; it is a threat to the physical and cognitive health of both students and teachers. Research consistently demonstrates that heat impairs concentration, memory, and learning efficiency, while also increasing fatigue, irritability, and absenteeism. Yet Pakistani policymakers have largely ignored these realities, enforcing uniform school schedules from Karachi to Gwadar, as though the heat of Sukkur and the mild spring of Islamabad demanded identical responses.
The monsoon presents a dual challenge. Rainfall replenishes water resources and supports agriculture, yet the same precipitation exposes chronic weaknesses in infrastructure. Flooding, collapsed roads, and damaged school buildings regularly disrupt education, particularly in rural areas where alternative learning opportunities are scarce. Recent years have witnessed floods that closed schools for months, leaving children—especially those from low-income families—falling behind permanently. Emergency closures, in the absence of robust contingency plans, translate directly into lost learning, eroding both skill development and confidence.
Winter in northern Pakistan, particularly in Gilgit-Baltistan and upper Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, poses an equally formidable set of obstacles. Heavy snowfall, sub-zero temperatures, and blocked roads make rigid attendance requirements and conventional school timings not just impractical but unsafe. International examples abound: countries with similar climatic conditions adopt flexible academic calendars, staggered holidays, and alternative delivery methods to protect students’ health while maintaining continuity of learning. Pakistan, by contrast, treats seasonal adaptation as optional, rather than necessary policy.
Autumn and spring, often neglected in public discourse, carry their own educational significance. Autumn brings allergies and temperature fluctuations that affect attendance and cognitive engagement, while spring offers optimal conditions for creativity, outdoor learning, and skill-based education. Yet national policy rarely leverages these periods strategically. They are treated as neutral interludes in a rigid academic cycle, rather than as opportunities to optimize learning outcomes in alignment with environmental realities.
The neglect of Gilgit-Baltistan in educational planning is particularly consequential. This region is home to vast glaciers, feeding Pakistan’s major rivers and supporting agriculture, hydropower, and water security across the country. Its climatic challenges—from extreme cold to glacial melt—directly influence regional development and national well-being. Yet educational policy in the area remains largely peripheral, failing to account for local realities or to integrate innovative solutions that would allow children to learn safely and consistently.
At the heart of the problem is a rigid, centrally imposed approach to education. Academic calendars are rarely revised, curricula are inflexible, and policy decisions are often detached from on-the-ground realities, health considerations, or climate data. The result is predictable: chronic stress for teachers and students, declining educational standards, and a generation of learners at risk of falling behind global peers. Parents, meanwhile, are caught in uncertainty, unsure whether extreme heat, flooding, or snow will disrupt their children’s schooling—and whether their children will be able to catch up when normalcy resumes.
The evidence is compelling: education systems that respond to climatic realities achieve higher attendance rates, better learning outcomes, and healthier, more engaged students. Yet Pakistan continues to resist such adaptations, risking the human capital upon which its future depends. Education is not merely the delivery of syllabi; it is the interaction of environment, well-being, and intellectual growth. Ignoring these elements undermines not only academic performance but also the broader social and economic resilience of the nation.
(The writer is a PhD scholar with a strong research and analytical background and can be reached at editorial@metro-Morning.com)
#ForgottenChallenge as extreme weather—from scorching heat in #Punjab and #Sindh to floods during the #Monsoon and heavy snow in #GilgitBaltistan and #KhyberPakhtunkhwa—disrupt learning. Uniform academic calendars ignore #ClimateEducation realities, risking #StudentHealth, #Attendance, and #LearningOutcomes. Seasonal shifts in #Autumn and #Spring offer opportunities for #OutdoorLearning and skill development, yet #EducationPolicy remains rigid. Addressing these challenges with #AdaptiveEducation, #WeatherAwarePolicy, and region-specific strategies is essential for building #EducationResilience and ensuring safe, consistent schooling for all children.
