In a bid to professionalise the education sector, the Sindh Education Department has introduced a revised code of conduct for all teaching staff across the province. Framed as part of a broader reform initiative, the new rules seek to foster discipline, ensure ethical standards, and establish a structured and respectful learning environment in public schools.
According to the newly released directive, teachers—both male and female—are required to adhere to specific dress codes and behavioural expectations aimed at reinforcing a formal educational atmosphere. The guidelines state:
- Female staff must abstain from wearing heavy makeup, flashy jewellery, or high heels. Instead, modest and traditional attire is encouraged as part of maintaining a culturally sensitive and professional appearance.
- Male teachers are barred from wearing T-shirts and jeans; formal clothing is now compulsory.
- The use of tobacco, cigarettes, paan, and nuswar (smokeless tobacco) is strictly prohibited within school premises.
- Teachers are not permitted to assign personal errands to students.
- Corporal punishment in any form is forbidden.
- All students must be treated equitably, with no preferential treatment or bias allowed.
The move, while welcomed in some quarters for introducing necessary boundaries between students and educators, has also drawn criticism. Critics argue the rules, particularly those concerning personal appearance, encroach upon individual freedom and reinforce a restrictive social outlook, especially for women. Yet, supporters believe the measures are long overdue in instilling discipline and a sense of decorum within public schooling systems often mired in laxity.
At present, the provincial government has not issued any formal public statement addressing the mixed reactions, nor has it clarified whether consultations with educators or civil society preceded the implementation of these policies.
The Ghost Teachers of Sindh: A Crisis of Accountability
Meanwhile, a more deep-rooted crisis continues to plague the province’s education system: the chronic issue of “ghost teachers”—government-employed educators who remain absent from duty while continuing to draw salaries.
According to a recent ARY News investigation, approximately 5,000 ghost teachers have been identified across Sindh. The discovery has prompted urgent calls for action. Sindh’s Education Minister, Syed Sardar Ali Shah, has ordered their immediate dismissal, the removal of their names from the payroll, and the initiation of disciplinary proceedings.
This is not an isolated revelation. In 2024, over 1,000 ghost teachers were similarly flagged, leading to the establishment of a special committee to investigate the issue. That effort concluded with the suspension of their salaries—an administrative success on paper but one that has failed to address the systemic rot enabling such practices.
In response, the education department has turned to technology. A newly introduced “attendance app” digitally tracks teacher attendance and links it directly to payroll systems. The app is designed to ensure that salary disbursements are contingent upon verified attendance, thereby eliminating loopholes exploited by absentee staff.
However, the move has sparked debate: is digital monitoring a sustainable solution to an entrenched problem? While the app may offer immediate control, skeptics question whether it can endure the pressures of a corrupt and politicised bureaucracy. Without robust enforcement mechanisms and independent oversight, such reforms often falter under institutional resistance and localised political interference.
Structural Reforms or Cosmetic Changes?
Sindh’s education sector finds itself at a critical juncture. On the one hand, initiatives like the new code of conduct and the attendance app signal an intent to reinvigorate professionalism and integrity in schools. On the other, recurring issues like ghost employment reflect a culture of administrative complacency and deep-rooted corruption.
These dual realities raise fundamental questions: Can rules alone reshape an ecosystem hollowed out by years of neglect? Will punitive actions against ghost teachers set a precedent for wider institutional accountability—or will they merely serve as scapegoats in a failing system?
The answers remain unclear. What is certain, however, is that without a comprehensive, transparent, and inclusive approach to reform—one that includes teachers, parents, and civil society—the much-needed transformation of Sindh’s education system will remain elusive.
