We are living in an age of narratives, an age where truth is no longer collective but fiercely individual. Survival belongs not to the virtuous but to the one with the most compelling personal narrative. Regrettably, in our society, even official state narratives are entangled in personal interests and TikTok-level theatrics. The government has systematically crafted a narrative against public servants particularly teachers, aimed at breeding contempt for them among the public and reducing their societal stature. This TikTok-era governance can anoint anyone as a Brahmin and bury others in the dust of the Shudra caste.
When educators become victims of collective mistrust, it’s not just their dignity that crumbles, it is the very ethical and intellectual foundation of the society that begins to collapse. Under the guise of pension reform, recent governmental measures appear less about providing relief and more about reducing retired individuals to a state of helplessness. Shifting the pension formula from the final basic salary to the average of the last two years reveals a stark intent: to deprive the elderly of even the basic sustenance they rightfully earned. Blocking re-employment opportunities and closing avenues for economic survival post-retirement amounts to a social euthanasia turning living, breathing human beings into redundant entities.
If this notification were enforced without discretion, half the offices would fall vacant, and many of our brightest minds would be cast into darkness. Why only target teachers? Why not every individual who crosses the threshold of sixty politicians, artists, officers, doctors, and businessmen? Let’s exile them all to a symbolic city one where they no longer have the right to guide, advise, or nurture anyone. Let a decree be passed: once you turn sixty, carry the weight of your wisdom into isolation. Whether your family survives or forgets you, society must no longer benefit from your hard-earned experience. In that city, one law shall prevail: Be silent, accept either your pension or your wage, but not both.
Pension is a right, earned through decades of service. Yet it is so meagre that it barely sustains life. Those elders who refuse to be confined within their homes are told to "rest. " But what kind of rest is possible when electricity bills, medical prescriptions, and the price of a single meal rob one of peace? When a retired individual tries to earn a living, society dismisses them: "This is your time to rest". Yes, the time may be one of rest but on the barren land of inflation and deprivation, what crop of rest can possibly grow?
Worse still, the public is led to believe that retired employees are a burden on the national treasury, while simultaneously, private academy owners are granted multiple institutional appointments. The Punjab Education Curriculum, Training & Assessment Authority (PECTAA) is a glaring example of this: those with vested interests from the private sector control three to four departments, sacrificing public structures at the altar of personal gain. The moral decay is visible in actions such as turning public assets in upscale areas like Gulberg into personal leisure spaces. How can individuals heading three departments be allotted separate vehicles for each?
Punjab Educational Complex & Technical Authority (PECTA), ostensibly formed to promote technical education, has struggled with mismanagement and financial instability from its inception. Ironically, this "struggling" body spent 1.7 million rupees on just two board meetings, with each member receiving a hefty honorarium of Rs. 40, 000, an extravagance limited to a select, well-connected few.
In contrast, public servants who reached their positions through competitive exams and interviews are denied even a 30% disparity allowance, which is now deemed an unbearable financial burden. This stark contrast exposes a deep-rooted fiscal and administrative imbalance. Critics rightly point out that appointments to PECTA’s board are based not on merit but favoritism corroding the institution’s credibility. When teachers are labelled as "surplus" and the media sensationalizes figures like "47, 000 excess teachers", the underlying agenda is clear: privatization of education.
With thousands of schools being outsourced, 75% lacking permanent heads, and promotions deliberately stalled, a narrative is being crafted to erode public trust in government education, thereby paving the way for private profiteering If the government truly valued transparency and performance, it would place its own record before the people. Why are educational outcomes deteriorating? Why is the quality of learning declining? Why are millions of children out of school? If public teachers were so incompetent, would the foundations of education still survive? Have any outsourced models performed better? These are the questions the state deliberately avoids.
While hospitals run out of funds, doctors are ridiculed; while schools lack teachers, educators are deemed burdens and their positions outsourced. Funds lavished on private partnerships could have uplifted government schools but that wasn't the agenda. The bitter truth is that the state has converted education and healthcare into revenue-generating sectors, monetizing minds and health alike. Electricity bills, food prices, and fuel all crush the poor under a relentless weight. Spending Rs. 800 billion on short-term relief programs like BISP, while refusing to allocate a fraction of that for education, is a catastrophic policy that severs the nation from sustainable development.
Labelling teachers and public servants as "surplus" is an ominous declaration: that education is now a business, and intellect no longer has value. The state is injecting a fast-acting poison into our collective consciousness, replacing the maternal care of governance with the cruelty of a stepmother. The truth must also be told: these so-called "surplus" teachers are, in fact, the lifeblood of the institutions that are still breathing. It is not wrong to say that two monkeys are fighting over the entire bread, leaving everyone else hungry.
What kind of chaotic governance is this that always operates at extremes? A recent directive banned mobile phone use among doctors and nurses in government hospitals, threatening immediate dismissal. But do these professionals not have families, emergencies, or sick children? Should a mother on duty be denied the right to hear of her child’s condition? Discipline is essential but so is humanity.
A policy could be crafted to allow emergency contact without compromising patient care. But completely isolating them from their personal lives is neither humane nor just. The real question is, "will such rules also apply to government officials who make TikTok videos during official meetings? Who will question their dismissals?" It’s tragic, while the elite use phones for propaganda and entertainment, the hands of healers are being stripped of basic communication tools, reducing them to emotional paralysis.
These double standards are the symptoms of a failing system where laws are steel for the weak and wax for the powerful. This chasm is pushing our society further toward bitterness and resentment. The time has come to reject the notion of humans as machines. We must legislate fairly, embracing both discipline and empathy otherwise, history warns us: when nature intervenes, entire empires vanish without a trace.
