“The State shall provide free and compulsory education to all children aged five to 16 years.” With this bold promise, Article 25-A of Pakistan’s Constitution stands alongside global commitments such as Sustainable Development Goal 4, which envisions inclusive, equitable, quality education for all by 2030.
Yet the contrast between these commitments and ground realities is striking: millions of children remain out of school, trapped between the rigidities of formal education and the limitations of non-formal alternatives. Nowhere is this contradiction more visible than in Sindh, where the struggle to bring children into learning has become a race against time, poverty, and systemic inertia.
Pakistan’s educational landscape is shaped by two parallel structures. On one side lies formal education— public schools, private schools, madrassas— operating within a standardized curriculum and bureaucratic framework. On the other stands non-formal education (NFE), an expanding constellation of accelerated learning programmes, community-based literacy centres, and flexible learning spaces that have quietly become a lifeline for children left behind. Though often treated as separate worlds, both systems reflect a single national challenge: the inability of mainstream education to retain its learners, and the resulting reliance on alternative pathways to fulfill constitutional and global obligations.
Article 25-A and SDG-4 are more than legal obligations— they are moral commitments. They remind us of a collective responsibility to ensure that no child remains outside learning, regardless of the form it takes. The transformation of Sindh’s educational landscape— and Pakistan’s future— will depend on the degree to which both formal schooling and non-formal education are strengthened, harmonised, and made accessible to those who have waited far too long for the right to learn
The formal system carries the weight of tradition, legitimacy, and state responsibility. In principle, it is the gateway to structured learning, critical thinking, and social mobility. In practice, however, it is weighed down by insufficient infrastructure, teacher absenteeism, inconsistent quality, and demographic pressures. Reports show that in Sindh, enrolment sharply declines after primary school, and transition to middle grades is alarmingly low. This explains why, even though children may enter school, many quietly disappear from the system before acquiring meaningful skills. Economic compulsion, cultural constraints (especially for girls), and distance from school facilities all fuel the dropout cycle. In regions hit repeatedly by floods, destroyed schools and prolonged disruptions further widen the gap between intent and reality.
Urban Sindh presents another paradox. Despite better infrastructure compared to rural districts, public schools in cities remain vastly outnumbered by the population they are meant to serve. As a result, families increasingly turn to low-cost private schools or to non-state providers capable of filling functional gaps. Here organisations such as The Citizens Foundation (TCF) play an outsized role. With one of the largest private networks of purpose-built schools in low-income communities, TCF has become a parallel formal system, offering high-quality education where the state’s presence is minimal. Its female-led teaching model and emphasis on child-centred pedagogy provide an example of how formal education, when thoughtfully designed, can improve access and outcomes for disadvantaged children.
This is where non-formal education enters the picture— not as a substitute but as a corrective mechanism. NFE has grown rapidly across the country, driven by both necessity and evidence. Flexible timings allow working children or girls with household responsibilities to participate. Community-based venues reduce travel barriers and safety concerns. Accelerated Learning Programmes (ALPs) compress primary education into shorter cycles, enabling over-age children to re-enter schooling. The recent Non-Formal Education Statistical Report shows nationwide NFE enrolment rising sharply, with over 35,000 centres serving millions. A significant proportion of learners are girls, and many instructors are women, helping overcome cultural constraints that inhibit female education.
A number of organisations have become critical actors in expanding NFE access. Muslim Hands, for instance, operates hundreds of community schools and education complexes, many of which function as non-formal or semi-formal centres in disaster-hit and poverty-stricken regions, including parts of Sindh. Their “Street Children School” model offers flexible schooling to children engaged in labour or living on the streets— populations that the formal system rarely manages to reach. Similarly, GANDS (Gender & Development Studies)-based programmes and grassroots literacy networks run community learning centres focused on foundational literacy, adolescent skills, and second-chance education. These organisations not only deliver education but also provide psychosocial support, community mobilisation, and linkages with vocational programmes to make schooling relevant to families’ economic realities.
Sindh’s experience reflects both the promise and fragility of these efforts. With an estimated 7.8 million children out of school, the province faces a challenge larger than the capacity of its formal system alone. Provincial departments have responded with thousands of new literacy centres, accelerated models, and partnerships with INGOs and NGOs, including UNESCO’s equivalency programmes and UNICEF-supported ALP initiatives. Public-private partnerships involving organisations like TCF, Muslim Hands, SEF community schools, GANDS, and various literacy networks show that when state and civil society cooperate, learning spaces multiply quickly.
Yet a critical examination reveals that NFE, while essential, is not a cure-all. Many programmes remain primary-focused, offering limited pathways to middle or secondary education. Short-term donor funding and inconsistent government allocations make centres vulnerable to closure. Monitoring and evaluation systems are still evolving, raising questions about quality, equivalency, and learning outcomes. Without structured bridges back into mainstream schools or vocational training, NFE risks functioning as a terminal endpoint rather than a reintegration mechanism. There is also a danger that governments may lean too heavily on NFE as a temporary fix rather than addressing weaknesses in the formal system.
The deeper truth is that out-of-school children are not only educationally excluded— they are also economically, socially, and geographically marginalised. A child who drops out often leaves due to forces far larger than schooling: climate displacement, poverty, domestic responsibilities, gender restrictions, safety concerns, or loss of livelihood in the household. Education systems must therefore be part of a broader strategy that includes social protection, livelihoods support, gender-sensitive planning, and climate resilience. Without addressing structural causes, even the best-designed NFE initiatives will struggle to sustain enrolment or ensure meaningful learning.
Still, dismissing NFE as secondary or inferior would be a mistake. When well-designed, non-formal pathways do more than teach literacy: they rebuild confidence, restore dignity, create second chances, and provide skills that can change the economic trajectory of entire families. Organisations such as TCF, Muslim Hands, GANDS, and hundreds of community-led learning centres consistently demonstrate that flexible, localised education can pull children back from the margins. Their success stories illuminate a quiet but powerful truth: education does not always have to happen within the walls of a traditional classroom.
To translate constitutional promises and global aspirations into lived reality, Pakistan— especially Sindh— must treat formal and non-formal education not as competing streams but as interconnected pathways. The future lies in an integrated ecosystem, where a child can move fluidly between modes of learning depending on circumstance, need, and opportunity; where quality and monitoring are ensured regardless of the pathway; and where both systems receive sustained investment, not episodic attention.
Article 25-A and SDG-4 are more than legal obligations— they are moral commitments. They remind us of a collective responsibility to ensure that no child remains outside learning, regardless of the form it takes. The transformation of Sindh’s educational landscape— and Pakistan’s future— will depend on the degree to which both formal schooling and non-formal education are strengthened, harmonised, and made accessible to those who have waited far too long for the right to learn.
