Published on 12:00 AM, November 15, 2018

School system fails Bedey children

Tailored education needed to accommodate nomadic traditions

Children of nomadic Bede community often spend their time playing or doing household work instead of attending school during day hours. The photo was taken at a makeshift Bede dwelling at Barabari village in Lalmonirhat Sadar upazila. PHOTO: S Dilip Roy

Many children from the traditionally nomadic Bedey community dream of school. But the formal schooling system wasn't designed with nomads in mind. While it's technically possible for Bedey parents to enrol their children in local schools as they move from place to place for several months a year, a succession of new teachers and classmates is hardly ideal. In the absence of a nomadic school that might provide Bedey families a platform for stable and consistent learning, it's unsurprising that for many, education isn't a priority.

Nine-year-old Imon Ali currently resides in a temporary tent in Lalmonirhat Sadar upazila's Barabari village. He is one of the fifteen Bedey families that have been staying there for the past three weeks. “My parents are out working all day so I have to look after my three-year-old sister,” he says. “Mostly we play at home. I also collect firewood.” Imon would like to go to school but has never had the chance.

“I want to be educated,” Imon's neighbour, ten-year-old Motalib Islam, says. “I asked my parents to send me to school but they didn't respond. I spend days playing with the other children.”

Older Bedey children like Baitul Islam, 13, are often expected to contribute to the family income. His parents taught him to sell traditional remedies and practice magic, customary trades among a number of Bedey communities. “I earn up to Tk 300 per day,” he says. “I help my family.”

As community leader Soleman Ali, 75, points out, the biggest challenge in providing a formal education to Bedey children is the incompatibility of the school system with their traditions. For many Bedey, the pursuit of a nomadic way of life is indispensably central to self-identity.

“We are from Savar in Dhaka,” Soleman says of the families who have been camping in Barabari village for the last three weeks, “but we travel around the country for about ten months each year. Many of our children go to school in Savar. When we travel it isn't practical.”

Imon Ali's father Azizul Islam echoes the sentiment. “We have four children and none of them have studied in school. We live in temporary houses. We have temporary addresses. How is that sort of education possible?”

There is also a concern that systemic education can threaten Bedey culture. “If our children complete school,” says Motalib's father Mostafa Miah, “is it likely that they will continue our ancestral traditions? We teach our children our own customs and livelihoods when they are about ten years old. We are nomads.”

Lalmonirhat district's primary education officer Nabez Uddin Sarker confirmed that Bedey children are eligible to enrol in any local primary school. “But they rarely do,” he says. “When we meet Bedey families to discuss this issue, there isn't always a lot of awareness concerning the importance of education.”

Equally, greater thought could be given as to how the government might better tailor education delivery to Bedey children, in a manner that demonstrates due sensitivity for their culture.