Exploitation Masquerading as Education: A Call for Accountability in Kashmir’s Private Schools

‘Fee First, Education Later’: Kashmir’s Kids Caught in a Cruel Classroom Currency

By: Javid Amin | Srinagar | 13 June 2025
In the serene yet often turbulent valleys of Kashmir, where resilience is a way of life, another silent crisis is taking root—this time not from political unrest or natural calamities, but from the very institutions entrusted with shaping the minds of tomorrow. Private schools, which once stood as beacons of learning and discipline, are now increasingly functioning as profit-driven enterprises, manipulating the vulnerabilities of parents and weaponizing education against their own students.

At the center of this exploitation is a deceptively simple document: the examination slip. What was once a routine clearance form has now become a coercive tool, used by several private schools across the Valley to enforce dubious financial compliance. Under the current practice, schools conduct internal examinations on alternate months, but only allow students to appear if all outstanding dues—no matter how arbitrarily imposed—are cleared. If not, the student is barred. Not warned. Not penalized academically. Barred.

And what does this mean in practical terms? Children are humiliated in front of classmates, isolated during exam hours, and told—both explicitly and implicitly—that they are less deserving of education because of their parents’ financial difficulties. Many are made to sit idle, deprived of participation, and are often stripped of dignity in front of their peers. This is not academic discipline. This is psychological punishment.

It is also, undeniably, illegal. The Jammu and Kashmir School Education Act, 2002, lays out a framework meant to protect students and regulate fee structures in private educational institutions. Alongside this, the Fee Fixation and Regulation Committee (FFRC) has issued repeated circulars emphasizing that no student can be denied education or examination access on the grounds of unpaid dues—especially when those dues include unapproved fees, unofficial “admission charges,” or retroactive balance payments. Yet, many schools continue to flout these directives with impunity.

What makes this even more concerning is the non-transparent nature of fee collections. In numerous complaints filed with the FFRC, parents have detailed instances of being forced to pay “balance amounts” from previous years, often without a receipt or through informal, cash-based transactions. Many of these demands are never put in writing, creating a climate of fear, confusion, and helplessness. When questioned, schools deflect, delay, or intimidate.

At the core of this problem lies a dangerous redefinition of what education has come to mean in Kashmir’s private school ecosystem. It is no longer a right, but a product. And children, regardless of merit or enthusiasm, are being used as collateral in financial negotiations between profit-hungry administrations and struggling parents.

The time has come to call this what it truly is: exploitation masquerading as education.

Anatomy of the Exploitation

What once appeared as routine school policy has now emerged as a carefully engineered mechanism of coercion in Kashmir’s private education system. At the center of this manipulation lies a cycle of financial pressure disguised as academic order—meticulously executed through internal examinations, inflated dues, and a conditional examination slip that no longer signifies academic readiness but monetary compliance.

Examinations as a Monthly Weapon

In most private schools across Srinagar and adjoining districts, a new norm has taken hold: alternate-month testing cycles. Under the guise of maintaining academic rigor and continuous assessment, students are required to appear in monthly or bimonthly internal examinations. On the surface, this might seem like a progressive step—after all, regular assessments help track academic growth. But in practice, these tests have become traps.

The process begins innocuously enough. A date sheet is issued. Students prepare. But then comes the condition: no dues, no exam slip. The burden of compliance isn’t academic—it’s financial. Regardless of whether the pending dues are recent, disputed, or from a previous year, students are not allowed to write the exam unless full payment is made—often within an unreasonably short notice period.

Parents receive sudden calls or WhatsApp messages a few days before the test:

“Please clear all dues by Friday to obtain the exam slip.”
“No slip, no entry to examination hall.”
“Balance fee from previous session pending. Kindly visit the office.”

No payment plan. No formal legal notice. No consideration of disputes. Just an ultimatum.

The Exam Slip: From Document to Deterrent

Historically, an exam slip or hall ticket is meant to affirm that a student is academically and administratively eligible to appear for exams. But in Kashmir’s private schools, it has evolved into a gatekeeping device, one that enforces submission to an unchecked financial regime.

Many parents report that even minor delays—sometimes of just a few days—can result in students being denied their exam slips. Worse still, some schools issue slips selectively, while making examples out of those whose parents raise concerns, protest unjustified hikes, or request receipts.

This method ensures silence. It fosters fear. It encourages parents to comply quietly, lest their child face the consequences in a public classroom.

Dues: Inflated, Retroactive, and Unaccountable

In a growing number of cases, the dues in question are not even straightforward. Parents have been asked to pay:

• Arbitrary “activity charges” for events never attended.

• Retroactive balance fees from previous years that were never discussed earlier.

• Admission fees collected in cash and not backed by receipts.

• Transportation charges during winter months when buses weren’t operational.

Even more disturbing are reports of schools inflating dues quietly on portals, then asking parents to log in and “verify” amounts—without giving them any channel for challenge or redressal.

In many schools, fee receipts are not issued unless demanded multiple times, and even then, they often lack official stamps or payment acknowledgment. This practice not only violates basic financial norms, it also erodes parental trust and removes any paper trail that could aid future complaints.

Children as Leverage in a Profit-Driven System

The most heartbreaking aspect of this entire scheme is that it uses children as leverage. Students who fail to receive their exam slips are made to:

• Sit silently while their peers take tests.

• Spend the exam period isolated or idle, often in hallways or separate classrooms.

• Answer uncomfortable questions from friends, teachers, and sometimes even from within the family.

This amounts to emotional extortion, where the child is punished for something they have no control over. The psychological message is clear: “If your parents can’t pay, you don’t deserve to learn.”

In some cases, schools even record such absences as “willful non-attendance,” effectively blaming the child for a failure that was institutionally orchestrated. No counseling is provided. No support is offered. Just silence and shame.

When Schools Become Collectors

What makes this practice even more insidious is the systematic regularity with which it is implemented. Schools have designated staff whose primary job is to track fee defaulters, issue last-minute reminders, and call parents with warnings. Rather than functioning as centers of learning, schools in Kashmir now resemble collection agencies—with the difference that their primary collateral is not property or wages, but the education and dignity of a child.

There is no audit mechanism to verify whether dues are legitimate. No third-party oversight to ensure accuracy. And no helpline or forum within the school where parents can confidentially contest charges. In most cases, questioning the dues is treated as defiance, and students bear the cost of parental dissent.

Legal Framework vs Ground Reality

For every abusive fee demand and coercive act committed by private schools in Kashmir, there exists a law or directive that explicitly prohibits it. And yet, the violations continue—blatantly, publicly, and with minimal consequence. This section exposes how the well-established legal architecture meant to regulate private schooling is being undermined by lax enforcement and administrative silence.

The J&K School Education Act, 2002: A Protective Charter Ignored

The Jammu and Kashmir School Education Act, 2002, was enacted with the intent to regulate the functioning of both government and private schools. The Act lays out clear provisions regarding:

• Fee structures and revisions.

• Non-discrimination in access to education.

• Mandatory transparency in admission and financial dealings.

• Prohibition of arbitrary penalties and harassment.

Under Section 20-A (introduced via amendments), private schools are required to seek approval from the designated authority before any fee hike. The Act also prohibits schools from denying education on the basis of inability to pay, especially where fees are disputed or under review.

Furthermore, the Act emphasizes inclusive access to education as a legal right—not a conditional privilege. No child shall be denied their right to learn because of financial incapacity, especially in a Union Territory where Article 21-A of the Constitution guarantees the right to free and compulsory education.

Yet, across Kashmir, schools regularly:

• Introduce unapproved fee hikes, especially mid-session.

• Withhold hall tickets or examination slips for students with pending dues.

• Demand admission fees that are banned under policy.

• Provide no receipts for payments, breaking financial audit norms.

These are not gray areas—they are illegal actions violating both the spirit and letter of the law.

The Role of the Fee Fixation and Regulation Committee (FFRC)

The Fee Fixation and Regulation Committee (FFRC), established under the Act and reinforced by subsequent court orders, is the primary authority tasked with regulating private school fees in Jammu and Kashmir.

Chaired by a retired High Court judge, the FFRC’s mandate includes:

• Reviewing and approving fee proposals from private schools.

• Investigating complaints regarding excessive or unauthorized fees.

• Penalizing institutions found violating norms.

• Ensuring fee structures remain just, reasonable, and non-exploitative.

The FFRC has, over the years, issued dozens of circulars and advisories—some in response to specific school complaints, others as general warnings. Notably, its circulars clearly state:

“No school shall deny examination access or withhold results for non-payment of disputed or unapproved dues.”

“All fee collections must be receipted and routed through formal banking channels.”

“Demanding unapproved admission fees, capitation charges, or balance from previous sessions shall attract legal action.”

Despite these warnings, most erring schools have faced no tangible consequences. The FFRC operates with limited enforcement capacity and often relies on the Directorate of School Education Kashmir (DSEK) for follow-through, which results in delays, bureaucratic bottlenecks, or silence.

Where the System Fails: No Enforcement, No Accountability

Why do private schools feel emboldened to violate clear legal directives?

The answer lies in the enforcement vacuum.

1. Delayed or Inconclusive FFRC Action:
   In many cases, when parents file complaints, schools are issued show-cause notices. But the process is slow and riddled with legal loopholes. By the time any action is recommended, the academic session has passed—or worse, the student has left the school.

2. Lack of Penalties or Public Disclosure:
   Even schools that are found guilty of misconduct are rarely fined in a meaningful way. There is no central platform where violations are published, and no mandatory disclosure policy that would deter future abuse.

3. No Whistleblower Protections for Parents or Staff:
   Parents who report fee coercion or abuse often face backlash. Some schools have even retaliated by increasing future dues or isolating the student. Teachers who try to speak out face contract termination or blacklisting. There are no safeguards in place.

4. Political Patronage and Institutional Ties:
   Some elite private schools are backed by influential political or business families, making regulators hesitant to act. This conflict of interest adds another layer of protection for institutions that routinely violate the law.

The Illusion of Oversight: Circulars without Consequence

Between 2022 and 2025, the FFRC and DSEK have issued at least eight major circulars on the regulation of fee collection and examination access. These include warnings against:

• Denial of exam access due to unpaid dues.

• Unauthorized collection of admission or activity charges.

• Fee increases without prior FFRC clearance.

• Coercive practices involving hall tickets or student segregation.

Yet, these circulars function more like moral advisories than legal orders. They lack enforcement muscle and are often ignored by schools that know there are no immediate consequences.

For instance, in early 2024, the FFRC warned several Srinagar-based schools against demanding unapproved “re-admission charges.” The schools responded by rebranding the same fee as a “processing charge,” continuing the practice unabated.

Legality vs Reality: The Trust Deficit

There is a growing trust deficit between parents and private school administrations in Kashmir. While the legal framework promises transparency, fairness, and regulation, the ground reality is one of arbitrariness, opacity, and intimidation.

Many parents—especially from lower-income or rural backgrounds—are unaware of their rights under the Education Act or FFRC regulations. Others, even when informed, are too intimidated or exhausted to challenge powerful school administrations. The result is a dangerous precedent: when legality is ignored often enough, it begins to look like legitimacy.

What the Law Demands—and What Must Be Enforced

• No child should be denied exams or access to learning due to pending or disputed fees.

• All fee structures must be pre-approved and publicly disclosed.

• Receipts for every transaction must be mandatory, digitized, and traceable.

• Penalties for violations should include derecognition, public blacklisting, and financial audits.

Laws are only as strong as the will to enforce them. In Kashmir’s private school sector, the laws exist—but the will remains absent. Until that changes, legality will continue to be a performance, and children will remain pawns in a battle between economic pressures and administrative apathy.

The Data Doesn’t Lie

While emotional narratives and anecdotal evidence offer a glimpse into the lived experience of parents and children in Kashmir, the statistical reality paints an even grimmer picture. The exploitation rampant in the Valley’s private school system isn’t isolated, accidental, or ambiguous—it’s widespread, documented, and accelerating. The data, compiled from Fee Fixation and Regulation Committee (FFRC) records, local parent associations, and independent education watchdogs, confirms what many families have long suspected: the private education system in Kashmir is increasingly unaffordable, unaccountable, and unchecked.

Fee Hikes: Unsustainable and Unjustified

Between 2023 and 2025, tuition fees in top-tier private schools across Srinagar rose by an estimated 25–40%, according to consolidated data submitted to the FFRC and accessed via RTI queries.

This figure does not include auxiliary charges like:

• Activity fees

• Sports and lab fees

• Building or infrastructure development funds

• Winter coaching charges

• Technology use or smart class fees

When bundled together, these “hidden” costs increase the actual financial burden on a family by another 15–20% per academic year. For a middle-income household earning ₹30,000–₹40,000 a month, this can amount to more than two full months of income spent annually on a single child’s education.

What’s more concerning is that these hikes often occur mid-session, under vague justifications like “inflationary adjustment,” “curriculum enrichment,” or “compliance upgrades”—all without prior FFRC approval.

In many schools, fee hike notifications are delivered via internal parent apps or informal WhatsApp messages, leaving no formal paper trail for parents to challenge.

Complaints Filed, Justice Denied

In just the first five months of 2025, the FFRC reportedly received over 1,400 formal complaints from parents across Jammu and Kashmir. A staggering 62% of these pertain specifically to fee-related harassment and coercion, including:

• Denial of exam slips or access due to unpaid dues.

• Intimidation of students in classrooms or in front of peers.

• Demands for retroactive balance payments from previous sessions.

• Non-receipted payments or cash-only demands.

• Unapproved hikes in transportation or activity charges.

Yet, of these 1,400 complaints, fewer than 50 resulted in any tangible action beyond a standard “notice for explanation” issued to schools. As of June 2025, not a single private school has been derecognized or heavily penalized for repeated violations, according to publicly available FFRC data.

This disproportionate gap between grievance and accountability has deeply disillusioned parents, many of whom no longer bother filing complaints, believing the process to be bureaucratically fruitless and reputationally risky.

The Rising Cost of Private Education in Kashmir

Let’s consider some illustrative figures drawn from parent submissions, RTI responses, and regional surveys:

At this rate, by 2026, average annual fees are projected to cross ₹120,000 per child—excluding uniforms, books, transport, and optional “special programs.” In a region where per capita income remains among the lowest in India, this trajectory is economically devastating.

In rural or semi-urban parts of Kashmir, where access to affordable public schooling is limited, parents are forced to borrow or liquidate assets to meet these costs. Some report taking personal loans or borrowing from relatives every quarter just to pay dues and avoid their child’s humiliation in school.

The Rise of “Balance Fee” Demands

One of the more devious financial tactics employed by several schools is the imposition of “balance fees” from previous years. This term, vague by design, is used to retrospectively justify unexplained financial gaps—often amounting to ₹5,000–₹15,000 or more—per child.

Parents report receiving sudden notices like:

“As per audit review, your account reflects a balance of ₹8,300 from Session 2022. Kindly clear before the upcoming examination cycle.”

These balances are rarely backed by any detailed breakdown or statement. Schools avoid issuing formal demand letters, preferring verbal instructions or app-based reminders that make the claim difficult to contest legally. Parents who ask for documentation are either ignored or subtly threatened with their child’s exclusion from class activities or examinations.

The Economic Fallout on Families

The psychological stress this imposes on families is immense. Key impacts include:

• Diverted household budgets: Families sacrifice essential medical or utility expenses to meet school deadlines.

• Children switching schools mid-session due to affordability, leading to academic disruption.

• Long-term debt accumulation, especially in lower-income groups with multiple children.

• Mental health issues among parents, particularly mothers, who often bear the emotional burden of managing school demands.

According to a local NGO survey conducted in Baramulla and Anantnag in early 2025, 38% of parents in private schools reported skipping meals, borrowing money, or deferring critical household needs to pay school dues. One in five reported signs of stress-related health conditions directly linked to fee anxiety.

When Numbers Tell a Story of Neglect

These statistics are not just numbers—they represent a systemic crisis. They expose an educational sector that, rather than uplifting Kashmir’s youth, is increasingly geared toward extracting profits from parental desperation. The frequency and scale of fee-related complaints, the rapid escalation of costs, and the lack of effective regulatory enforcement together point to one undeniable truth:

This is no longer about education. It’s about survival.

For a society already grappling with the psychological scars of conflict, poverty, and political uncertainty, the commodification of education is an added betrayal—one that targets not militants or governments, but ordinary parents trying to secure a future for their children.

Case Studies from the Valley

Real Stories Behind the Statistics

While statistics offer clarity, they often lack the visceral weight of lived experience. In Kashmir, behind every percentage point in fee hikes or complaint filed with the FFRC, there is a family navigating impossible choices—often silently, and always painfully. These case studies are not isolated incidents. They are part of a growing pattern where education has become a battleground of economic coercion, mental trauma, and institutional arrogance.

Case Study 1: “Pay or Stay Home”—The Srinagar Girl Denied Exams

Name changed for protection

In March 2025, Mehvish, a Class 9 student at a well-known private school in Rajbagh, arrived at her school gates in full uniform, carrying her books and ID. It was her science monthly test, and she had spent days preparing. But she never made it into the exam hall.

“You have no slip. No dues, no exam,” the security guard told her at the gate.

Her mother, a widowed government school teacher earning ₹28,000 per month, had missed the second-quarter transport fee of ₹3,600 due to a medical emergency in the family. The school had not issued the required “exam slip,” a practice now standard in many private institutions in the Valley.

Her teachers—sympathetic but helpless—watched as the girl sat on the reception sofa all morning while others wrote their papers. When the mother confronted the principal, the response was cold:

“Rules are rules. If we bend for one child, the system collapses.”

What collapses instead is the child’s trust in fairness, in education, in authority.

Case Study 2: The Phantom Balance—A Parent in Pulwama Battles Invisible Dues

Referred by local parents’ association

Junaid Ahmad, a small trader in Pulwama, received a demand from his son’s school in early 2025 stating:

“Outstanding balance: ₹9,700 for session 2022–23. Clear immediately.”

There was no breakdown. No explanation. His own records, supported by bank slips, showed that he had cleared all dues up to March 2023. When he went to the school office to seek clarification, he was stonewalled.

“Sir, if you want your son to write his Term II exams, kindly pay. Otherwise, it’s your decision.”

In desperation, Junaid paid—in cash, as instructed—and was never given a receipt. The FFRC complaint he filed went unanswered for two months. He finally withdrew it.

His son, meanwhile, began having panic attacks in class, terrified that he’d be “kicked out” next time. The child is nine years old.

Case Study 3: “Cash Only”—The South Kashmir School Violating Every Rule

In Anantnag, a private school that boasts of “international curriculum exposure” and regularly advertises in local newspapers has been collecting admission and term fees entirely in cash.

Parents report:

• No receipts issued for amounts under ₹10,000.

• “Maintenance fees” charged annually—undocumented and unapproved.

• Extra tuition demanded under the label “monthly tutorial support.”

When one parent refused to pay cash and requested a formal invoice and bank payment details, the school’s office replied:

“Sorry, NEFT not accepted this year. Too many audit issues. Kindly pay in person.”

This not only violates FFRC directives but also hints at tax evasion, unaccounted revenues, and regulatory apathy. Yet, no formal inspection has been conducted, and complaints remain unresolved.

Case Study 4: Public Shaming in the Classroom

In one of Srinagar’s most reputed schools, which routinely charges ₹1.2 lakh per year per child, a Class 8 student was made to stand for an hour during morning assembly for not having paid a ₹6,000 “activity fee.”

She was called out by name. Her peers laughed. The teacher moved on.

That evening, the girl refused to return to school and began showing signs of acute anxiety. Her parents, both salaried professionals, had been promised by the school in writing that no fee would be increased during the academic year due to an ongoing FFRC review. The “activity fee,” they were told, was an “exception.”

When the father brought the matter to the school’s grievance cell, he was offered a 10% waiver in exchange for withdrawing the complaint.

Case Study 5: Transport Fee but No Transport

Zahoor Ahmad, a resident of Baramulla, opted out of his daughter’s school transport in April 2024 after purchasing a secondhand scooter to cut costs. Yet, the school continued to include transport charges in the quarterly bill.

When he protested, the school said:

“Our billing system is fixed. If you’re not using transport, that’s your choice. Pay it or leave the school.”

He filed an online FFRC grievance, but was later told by another parent that the school may retaliate against his daughter by “downgrading” her section or excluding her from cultural activities. Fearing the social cost to his child, he paid up.

Psychological Toll: Trauma Behind the Numbers

While these stories highlight financial exploitation, they also uncover a deeper emotional and psychological toll:

• Children report feeling like “failures” not because of academic weakness but due to their family’s economic hardship.

• Anxiety, school refusal, social withdrawal, and even early signs of depression are becoming common in affected students.

• In some schools, those with “pending dues” are made to sit in separate rows during class tests or not given notebooks until full fees are cleared.

• Teachers—many on contract and under pressure—say they’re forced to act as fee enforcers, which damages their relationship with students and undermines pedagogical ethics.

These aren’t just policy violations. They are moral failings of an educational system that appears to have lost sight of its purpose.

What These Stories Reveal

1. These are not isolated incidents. They span districts, income groups, and school types.

2. The violations are systemic—enabled by a culture of silence, poor enforcement, and regulatory fatigue.

3. Parents are trapped between the fear of retaliation and the desire to secure a better future for their children.

4. Children are internalizing trauma they do not yet have the language to describe.

No report, circular, or court ruling can undo the damage done to a child who begins to associate learning with shame.

The Psychological and Ethical Cost

What Happens When Education Becomes a Transaction, Not a Trust

In the cold calculus of administrative memos, school budgets, and circulars, something fundamental is often forgotten: a school is not just a place of learning—it is a sanctuary of emotional development, self-worth, and moral grounding. When this sanctuary becomes a marketplace, children don’t just lose knowledge—they lose innocence, stability, and trust in fairness.

The coercive financial practices employed by many private schools in Kashmir aren’t merely economic infractions. They are ethical breaches and psychological assaults—on children’s minds, on parental dignity, and on society’s collective conscience.

The Hidden Trauma in the Classroom

Teachers across Kashmir, speaking anonymously, confirm a disturbing trend: a growing number of students are showing symptoms of anxiety, fear, and depression linked directly to fee-related stress.

In classrooms where children are segregated for unpaid dues or denied participation in tests, the message is loud and clear:

“Your worth here is not your ability, your effort, or your character—it is your parents’ capacity to pay.”

Psychologists in Srinagar report a rise in school-age patients suffering from:

• Chronic school avoidance

• Low self-esteem and social withdrawal

• Performance anxiety rooted in financial shame

• Panic attacks before fee deadlines or exams

Many students blame themselves, even when told the issue is financial. They internalize guilt, asking:

“Am I the reason Papa is sad?”
“Why did I have to stand outside while others gave their test?”
“What if they remove me from school next time?”

These are not abstract questions. They are the echoes of emotional damage that will linger well into adulthood.

A Child’s Mind is Not a Ledger

Education is supposed to be a right, not a reward for financial compliance. But fee-related punishments turn this principle upside down. When schools withhold exam slips, deny notebooks, or exclude students from activities, they are making a brutal statement:

“Learning is conditional. Dignity is conditional. Belonging is conditional.”

Such actions violate the Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education Act (RTE), 2009, which, while not directly enforceable in private unaided schools beyond Class 8, nonetheless sets the ethical benchmark for child-centric education. Moreover, J&K’s School Education Act (2002) and subsequent amendments emphasize the role of schools in creating non-discriminatory environments. Yet violations continue unpunished.

In private classrooms across Kashmir, humiliation is being institutionalized.

Teachers as Enforcers: The Erosion of Pedagogical Trust

One of the most underreported consequences of this crisis is its effect on teacher-student relationships. Teachers—many of whom are poorly paid and contractually employed—are being forced to act as intermediaries in fee recovery.

• They are asked to withhold marksheets for students with pending dues.

• They are made to publicly name students who haven’t submitted fee slips.

• Some are even instructed to call parents during school hours to pressure them.

This not only undermines the moral purpose of teaching but destroys the safe bond between mentor and child.

A teacher in Anantnag confessed:

“I became a teacher to guide children, not to humiliate them. But if I refuse, I risk losing my job.”

The result? A broken classroom culture, where students see teachers not as allies but as enforcers—and where teachers themselves are emotionally torn between duty and ethics.

The Ethical Crisis of Privatised Education

Kashmir’s private education system today reflects a deeper philosophical crisis: Is education a public good or a private commodity?

If it’s a public good, then schools must be held to standards of equity, compassion, and transparency.

If it’s a private commodity, then we must accept that children will be sorted, punished, and excluded based on their family’s financial capacity.

But we cannot pretend it is both.

Ethically, it is indefensible for institutions that claim to nurture “leaders of tomorrow” to engage in practices that mirror corporate debt collection strategies. Making children the collateral in disputes over money is not just unethical—it is dehumanizing.

What we are witnessing is a shift from education as empowerment to education as extortion.

The Cost to Parents: Guilt, Anxiety, and Silence

Parents in Kashmir often suffer in silence. Many refuse to speak out publicly, fearing that their child will face subtle or overt retaliation. They absorb the emotional pressure, rework household budgets, and suppress their rage—because the price of confrontation is too high.

A father of two from Sopore shared:

“I wanted to report my child’s school, but I was afraid they would label my daughter a troublemaker. In Kashmir, there are no second chances.”

This fear isn’t misplaced. Schools have been known to:

• Reject transfer applications citing “disciplinary reasons.”

• Delay issuance of character certificates until all dues—including disputed ones—are cleared.

• Blacklist students from internal programs or competitions.

The emotional cost to parents is immense: feelings of failure, helplessness, and betrayal by a system that promised dignity through education.

The Social Impact: Inequality Becomes Identity

The more these exploitative practices continue, the more they entrench educational inequality—not just in outcomes, but in identity.

Children from financially struggling families begin to see themselves as “less than”—less deserving, less capable, less welcome. This internalized inferiority can have lifelong consequences:

• Reduced ambition

• Social isolation

• Distrust of institutions

• Compromised mental health

A society already fragile from decades of conflict and political unrest cannot afford another layer of institutional trauma—especially not one that begins in childhood classrooms.

At What Point Do We Say, “Enough”?

Kashmir’s private school crisis is not just about education policy—it is about human rights, moral duty, and the future of a generation.

Every time a school denies a child an exam slip because of unpaid fees, it sends a message far louder than any textbook:

“You do not belong here.”

Every time a parent pays cash in fear rather than by choice, the system quietly absorbs another layer of corruption.

Every time a teacher calls out a student for dues, another brick falls from the wall of ethical education.

And every time a child is made to feel ashamed for their family’s poverty, a seed of resentment, trauma, or despair is planted.

This is not sustainable. This is not education. This is moral collapse.

What we need now is not more circulars or empty reassurances—but a systemic reckoning, rooted in the belief that no child should ever be made to feel unworthy because of their parents’ bank balance.

Legal Framework and Loopholes

Laws Exist—Why Don’t They Protect Our Children?

Kashmir’s private education sector is not a lawless space. On paper, there are rules, regulations, and regulatory bodies designed to prevent fee-related exploitation, arbitrary charges, and the mental harassment of students. The problem isn’t the absence of law—it is the calculated exploitation of its loopholes, weak enforcement, and an unholy alliance between silence and institutional power.

As parents continue to suffer under psychological and financial coercion, and students are denied their right to dignified education, the question becomes urgent:

If the law exists, why is it failing our children?

The Legal Backbone: What the Rules Say

1. The Jammu and Kashmir School Education Act, 2002 (as amended)

   This is the primary legislative framework governing school education in the Union Territory. Some key provisions:

   • Section 29-A (inserted later) prohibits private schools from charging any fees other than those approved by the Fee Fixation and Regulation Committee (FFRC).

   • Schools are required to submit fee structures annually for review and approval.

   • No school is allowed to demand capitation fees, unauthorized admission fees, or enforce payments not cleared by the committee.

   • Violation of these norms can attract penalties, suspension of recognition, or derecognition.

2. The Fee Fixation and Regulation Committee (FFRC) Guidelines

   The FFRC, constituted under the School Education Act, is tasked with regulating fee hikes and monitoring complaints.

   • It caps annual fee hikes (usually under 6–8%) unless justified.

   • It prohibits denial of education, exams, or facilities over non-payment without due process.

   • All fee collections must be via proper banking channels with receipts and transparency.

   • Schools must not coerce or penalize students for issues related to parental payments.

3. Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education (RTE) Act, 2009

   Though its application is limited in Kashmir due to the UT’s special legal history and the fact that many private schools go beyond Class 8, its spirit remains influential:

   • Mandates non-discrimination, inclusive practices, and child-centered education.

   • Prohibits any form of physical or psychological punishment.

   • Encourages creation of grievance redressal mechanisms in schools.

4. CBSE and CISCE Affiliation Bylaws

   Many private schools in Kashmir are affiliated with CBSE or CISCE, which have their own rules:

   • CBSE circulars (e.g., Circular No. CBSE/Dir(Acad)/2020 dated June 4, 2020) prohibit fee-linked harassment, including denial of exam admit cards.

   • CISCE similarly prohibits arbitrary fee hikes and demands compliance with host state laws.

   • Schools found violating these can have their affiliation revoked—but this is rarely enforced.

The Loopholes: How Schools Evade Accountability

Despite these protections, violations persist openly and frequently. Here’s how schools bend, break, or completely sidestep the law:

01. “Activity Fees,” “Infrastructure Charges,” and Other Unregulated Demands

Even when tuition fees are regulated, schools introduce creative charges:

• Smart class fees

• Annual maintenance fund

• Sports & excursion charges

• Building development surcharge

• Annual magazine and software upgrade costs

These are rarely submitted to the FFRC for approval and often collected in cash, allowing schools to operate outside official scrutiny.

02. Demanding Cash Payments Without Receipts

This is perhaps the most rampant form of illegality:

• Schools insist on cash payments for “urgent clearances.”

• Receipts are delayed, partial, or never issued.

• Bank transfers are discouraged under pretexts like “software upgrade” or “payment server issue.”

This not only violates FFRC mandates but also potentially constitutes tax evasion and money laundering.

03. Retroactive Fee Claims

Several schools demand “balance dues” from previous academic years—often without documentation.

• FFRC has no clear auditing mechanism to confirm these balances.

• Parents are too intimidated to demand past records.

• These claims are often made right before exams, giving parents no option but to comply.

04. Harassment by Denial of Exam Access

While denying education or exams is explicitly illegal, many schools rebrand these punishments:

• “No exam slip without dues”—though slips themselves are an unofficial creation.

• “No ID card issued without clearance”—effectively excluding the child from school.

• Segregating or “temporarily withdrawing” students with pending dues.

The FFRC lacks field-level monitoring powers to catch these subtle yet harmful tactics.

05. Misusing Parent Consent Forms

Some schools take signed declarations from parents at the time of admission or midway into the session that read:

“We agree to pay all dues and charges as per institutional discretion, including for co-curricular and development purposes.”

These are misused later as blanket authorizations for arbitrary charges, even though such practices cannot override statutory provisions.

Enforcement Gaps: Why the System Doesn’t Work

1. FFRC is Understaffed and Overwhelmed

   • FFRC receives hundreds of complaints annually, most related to fee-related exploitation.

   • It has limited inspection teams, no real-time enforcement mechanism, and no field-level coordination with district education officers.

2. Fear of Retaliation Silences Parents

   • Many parents withdraw complaints due to fear of their child facing punitive action.

   • Others accept “partial waivers” or secret deals offered by schools in exchange for silence.

3. No School Has Been Derecognized Recently

   • Despite repeated violations, no major school in Kashmir has been derecognized or de-affiliated in the last five years.

   • This has emboldened institutions and created a culture of impunity.

4. Political and Elite Patronage

   • Some elite private schools enjoy informal protection due to affiliations with powerful families or bureaucrats.

   • Regulatory bodies are reluctant to challenge these schools even when presented with documented proof of violations.

The Way Forward: From Paper Laws to People’s Protections

Legal frameworks mean little unless backed by public accountability, judicial oversight, and proactive governance. Some urgent reforms needed:

• Independent Education Ombudsman: A quasi-judicial body at the UT level with powers to investigate and penalize exploitative schools.

• Mandatory Online Payment Portals: To ensure digital transparency in fee collection and reduce under-the-table cash transactions.

• Grievance Redressal at District Level: Decentralizing FFRC’s burden through empowered district education officers.

• Whistleblower Protection for Parents and Teachers: Laws that allow parents and educators to report abuse without fear of retribution.

• Annual School Audits: Mandatory financial and ethical audits for all private schools, especially those charging above ₹1 lakh per year.

Conclusion: The Law Is Clear—But Who Enforces It?

Kashmir does not suffer from a lack of educational regulations. It suffers from a failure to enforce them against powerful private schools. It suffers from the silence of institutions, the fear of parents, and the helplessness of children. Until legal frameworks are given teeth—until violations carry real consequences—private schools will continue to exploit the very system that claims to protect our children.

This isn’t just a policy failure. It is a betrayal of trust, and the law must finally side with those who cannot afford to be unheard any longer.

What Needs to Change—Policy, People, and Pressure

From Passive Tolerance to Proactive Reform

The rot in Kashmir’s private education sector runs deep—not because the laws are weak, but because the will to enforce them is weaker. Regulatory apathy, unchecked school authority, and societal silence have created a system where coercion thrives and justice limps. But it doesn’t have to remain this way.

Change is not only necessary—it is achievable.

However, change will require more than official notifications. It will demand a collective awakening from parents, educators, policymakers, media, and the legal system. This section outlines the structural reforms, civic strategies, and cultural shifts needed to end the exploitation masquerading as education.

Policy Reforms: Strengthen the Framework, Close the Loopholes

a. Amend and Strengthen the J&K School Education Act

• Introduce clear punitive clauses for fee-related harassment (e.g., denying exams, segregating students).

• Make it mandatory for all private schools to register fee structures publicly on school websites for parental scrutiny.

• Mandate district-level grievance redressal units under the Chief Education Officer with time-bound complaint resolution.

b. Make FFRC More Independent and Empowered

• Convert FFRC into a quasi-judicial statutory body with suo motu powers of investigation and on-spot school inspections.

• Allocate dedicated enforcement teams with field officers empowered to freeze fee hikes or demand financial records.

• Require annual audits of schools by government-approved CA firms and publish reports for public review.

c. Ban Unapproved Charges with Strict Enforcement

• Prohibit charges like “smart class fees,” “building fund,” or “balance dues” unless approved by FFRC.

• Enforce digital-only payments for fee collection to curb untraceable cash transactions.

Civic Action: Empower Parents, Protect Students

a. Form Registered Parent Welfare Associations

• Encourage parents to create formal associations at each private school—recognized by the education department and protected under the law.

• These groups should:

  • Participate in fee discussions

  • Monitor school behavior

  • Act as a collective grievance redressal voice

b. Establish a Legal Aid Helpline for Affected Parents

• Many parents fear retaliation or simply lack the means to fight a legal case. The UT administration or NGOs should set up:

  • A toll-free legal helpline

  • Volunteer panels of education lawyers and child rights activists

  • Confidential case handling and follow-up support

c. Create an Online Public Grievance Portal

• A single, transparent platform for fee-related complaints:

  • Complaint tracking numbers

  • Public dashboard of schools under scrutiny

  • Deadline-bound redressal with escalation options

Reimagining School Culture: Ethical Education, Not Transactional Control

a. Restore the Role of Educators as Mentors

• Teachers must be freed from the role of fee enforcers.

• FFRC guidelines and school HR policies should:

  • Prohibit assigning financial enforcement to teaching staff

  • Include psychosocial training to detect and prevent emotional abuse due to economic discrimination

b. Introduce Value-Based and Mental Health Education

• Make empathy, inclusion, and fairness central to every school’s co-curricular agenda.

• Establish in-school counseling services and anti-bullying units.

• Conduct anonymous student surveys on emotional well-being to audit hidden abuse.

Legal Pressure: Set Judicial Precedents, Empower the Courts

a. Fast-Track Education Litigation

• Create dedicated education benches at the district judiciary level to handle:

  • Fee harassment cases

  • Illegal admissions

  • Psychological discrimination linked to financial status

b. Enforce Contempt Proceedings for Non-Compliance

• Schools ignoring FFRC or court orders must be liable for contempt of court, including:

  • Daily fines

  • Freezing of accounts

  • Temporary derecognition

c. Launch Investigations into Financial Misconduct

• The Income Tax Department and Economic Offences Wing must be roped in to:

  • Investigate cash-based fee collection

  • Audit past fee hikes and donations

  • Trace laundered or unaccounted funds

 Media and Public Awareness: Normalize Transparency, Expose Exploitation

a. Name and Shame Policy Violators

• Media houses and civil society groups must publish annual blacklists of schools found guilty of:

  • Overcharging

  • Harassment

  • Illegal admission fees

b. Empower Student Journalism

• Encourage safe, anonymous student feedback through:

  • Local youth media platforms

  • School-based press clubs

  • University-led child rights bulletins

c. Use Documentaries and Social Media Campaigns

• A powerful 5-minute video on a child being barred from exams due to unpaid fees could shake public apathy.

• Let the stories of students, not institutions, go viral.

Long-Term Institutional Overhaul

a. Establish an Independent Regulatory Commission for Private Education

• Modeled on TRAI or SEBI, this commission could:

  • License schools

  • Cap fee structures

  • Penalize violations with civil and criminal consequences

  • Operate transparently with public accountability

b. Introduce Private School Accountability Rankings

• Annual rankings based on:

  • Financial transparency

  • Parental satisfaction

  • Student mental health indicators

  • Audit outcomes

c. Fund Alternatives to Elite Schools

• The government must invest in:

  • Model government schools with English medium education

  • Public-private partnerships that prioritize merit over money

  • Scholarship programs for economically weaker sections in private schools—with enforcement

7. Cultural Shift: Dignity Over Donation, Compassion Over Commercialization

The deepest change must be cultural.

We must collectively reject the belief that better education must come at the cost of emotional trauma and parental blackmail. No child should ever associate learning with humiliation. No teacher should feel morally bankrupt enforcing a school’s payment policy. And no parent should fear speaking the truth because their child’s future hangs in the balance.

Final Thought: Accountability Is the First Step to Reform

The situation in Kashmir’s private schools is not just an education crisis—it’s a moral emergency. If we are to preserve even the idea of equitable education in the Valley, then accountability must no longer be optional.

Let this editorial serve not just as a condemnation, but as a manifesto for change. For the child waiting outside a classroom, for the parent silenced by fear, and for the teacher torn between conscience and compliance—the time has come to act.

Because when education becomes a transaction, society becomes a market.
And when that happens, it’s not just learning that dies—it’s our humanity.

Conclusion and Call to Action

From Silent Suffering to Collective Resistance

In the conflict-scarred and emotionally resilient land of Kashmir, education was once regarded as the single greatest path to dignity, empowerment, and upward mobility. But today, that promise is being hollowed out—replaced by coercion, financial bullying, and emotional trauma under the polished facades of private school campuses.

The message many children now receive is chillingly clear:
Your access to exams, friendships, attention, and learning depends not on your talent or effort, but on your parent’s ability to pay—on time, in full, and without protest.

This is not education. It is economic cruelty cloaked in academic legitimacy.

Why This Is Not Just a Parental Issue

Some may say this is a “parents vs. schools” problem. That framing is dangerously reductive.

This is a societal crisis, a failure of the state’s regulatory machinery, a betrayal of the trust parents place in institutions, and a deeply unjust burden placed on children who have no say in the financial struggles of their families.

Children should never be punished for circumstances beyond their control.
Teachers should never be turned into fee collectors.
And schools should never function as profit-first corporations disguised as temples of learning.

The Pain Is Real. The Protest Must Be, Too.

Every humiliation faced by a child who is made to sit out an exam, every silent tear shed in a classroom because a teacher scolded them about “pending dues,” every sleepless night of a parent choosing between groceries and “balance fees”—these are not isolated tragedies. They are deliberate policy outcomes of a system that protects the institution, not the individual.

The longer we remain silent, the more normalized this becomes.

No More Half-Measures. Here’s What You Can Do:

If you are a parent:

• Organize: Form or join a Parents’ Association in your school. Demand transparency.

• Document: Keep records of all communications, receipts, and harassment—audio, text, and written.

• Report: File complaints with the FFRC, the Directorate of School Education, or legal aid organizations. Even anonymous reports matter.

If you are a teacher or staff member:

• Speak up quietly but firmly when students are harassed.

• Refuse roles that involve singling out students over dues—it is not part of your educational duty.

• Join educators’ forums that promote ethical school practices.

If you are a lawyer, activist, or journalist:

• Offer legal aid or help publicize cases.

• Push for public interest litigations (PILs) on recurring violations.

• Use your platform to shift the narrative from silence to justice.

If you are a policymaker or education official:

• Stop delaying action under the pretext of “parent-school understanding.”

• Audit, penalize, and reform—or be remembered as complicit in the injustice.

• Involve civil society in reviewing the functioning of schools under your jurisdiction.

Hope Is Possible—But Only Through Accountability

Across India, we’ve seen progressive courts, strong parent unions, and courageous education officials force exploitative schools to return fees, withdraw circulars, and change policies.

This can happen in Kashmir too.

• When even one school is publicly penalized, others will think twice.

• When even one child is protected from public humiliation, a precedent is set.

• When even one parent stands up and says “Enough,” a ripple of courage spreads.

In Defense of the Child

This entire editorial is, at its core, a defense of the dignity of the child—the one who deserves to be in a classroom not because of wealth, but because of worth; not silenced by poverty, but empowered by learning.

Education is not a product. It is not a privilege for the highest bidder.
It is a constitutional right, a moral responsibility, and a sacred trust between society and its future.

Final Words: This Is the Moment

Kashmir is no stranger to struggle. But the quiet suffering within classrooms—the unseen exploitation in parent-teacher meetings, the tears behind school gates—may be the most urgent and ignored crisis of all.

We must break this silence.

Let us reclaim our schools—not as fee collection agencies, but as places of growth, dignity, compassion, and justice.

Because when children are taught through fear, they do not grow—they shrink.
And when schools forget their humanity, society loses its soul.

It’s time to demand better.
It’s time to hold them accountable.
It’s time.