“A mother squabbled with the gatekeeper in a school in Punjab, fighting for admission for her daughter,” narrates the CEO and President of The Citizen Foundation (TCF), Zia Akhtar Abbas. TCF had just taken over a boys-only government school in the boondocks of Punjab, but the mother held her daughter’s hand firmly and argued for a seat. In Punjab, a Learning and Educational Achievement in Punjab Schools (LEAPS) study asked villagers what they wanted most from the government. The top answer was jobs, but the second, even ahead of clean drinking water and healthcare, was access to a secondary school. “That’s why, whenever we open a school in the most remote areas, we often see a line of people waiting outside,” said Mr Abbas. Begging contracts Education is a supply problem in Pakistan, according to the CEO of the world’s largest independently run network of private schools. While there are pockets of society where culture (for girls) or circumstances (in cases of extreme poverty for boys) prevent children from going to school, parents from every class want to see their children go beyond them. The poorest of the poor are families whose children, coated in hazardous golden paint, stand in the midday heat begging for alms. Because of poverty and greed, these children belong to an economic system that profits from a child’s existence. Parents of children who have begging contracts are the most difficult to convince because the meagre earnings of today are more important than the investment of tomorrow. “But kudos and credit to parents belonging to the indigent households all over Pakistan who are making massive financial and opportunity cost choices to send their kids to school,” says Mr Abbas, acknowledging the bleak reality of Pakistan’s poverty. ‘Out-of-school children equal Australia’s population’ Pakistan has around 75 million children of school-going age, and slightly more than a third — about 25 million — are out of school, a number comparable to the entire population of Australia. Of the remaining roughly 50m who are enrolled, 46m attend non-state schools. This highlights another challenge: widespread distrust in government schools and the quality of education they offer. Ask your maid or driver and they will tell you that they would rather send their children to a more expensive, bottom-of-the-barrel private school than to a government school. Government schools often have multiple grades crammed into the same room, leaving even the most well intentioned, well-trained teachers at their wits’ end. Entire schools sometimes operate with just two or fewer teachers, turning the task of imparting an education into an exercise in futility. The value proposition of schools becomes evident in secondary school, where children learn to read and write. However, that is when the pressure of circumstances comes in the form of impossible choices. Do we keep this child in school, or do we get them, especially the boys, to pursue a vocation? “It is very hard to keep boys engaged when they get into grade eight because they know that eventually, they can’t pursue this all the way to university,” says Mr Abbas sadly. Cost per child Educating a child at a TCF school costs approximately Rs 4,300 per month, including non-cash expenses such as depreciation. Parents can pay as little as Rs50 per child, based on their means, roughly up to five per cent of their household income, so they have a stake in their child’s education. No child is ever turned away because they can’t pay. Even after these contributions, TCF faces a funding gap of around Rs 3,600–3,700 per child each month. The cost to the government per child in a state-run school is about 2x to 3x higher than at TCF, partly due to accounting differences and inflated enrollment figures. Official records may list 80 students at a government school, yet only 20 may actually attend. Offering more jobs than the army, the federal and provincial education sector is the biggest employer in Pakistan. This has resulted in inflated costs and youths who are only marginally employable. At the heart of the problem is treating school jobs as a means of garnering votes. Poor performance needs to stop having legal cover, he asserts. Instead, power and money need to devolve to the grassroots level and be invested in strong school leadership to utilise government schools in reducing the out-of-school children problem. ‘Walk on water’ TCF is tax-exempt in the UK, Canada, the UAE, the US, and several other European countries and raises about $55 million a year internationally, accounting for around 45pc of total donations. “For a Pakistani charity to not only gain tax-exempt status but also earn trust and credibility, the standards are exceptionally high — you have to walk on water,” says Mr Abbas. In areas such as governance, transparency, and corporate compliance, there is zero margin for error. In a country that ranks high in corruption, TCF has remained untouched by scandal despite its significant cash flow from donations; in its 2024 annual report, TCF stated that it had received Rs11.8 billion in donations. How do we ensure that there is no embezzlement? “If every member of TCF has dard or the pain of each cent being a token of trust from a donor, then you manage the organisation in a very different way,” says Mr Abbas, explaining the culture of ‘owners not donors’ instilled in TCF. If a donor built a school 20 years ago, they still receive a report, even if they’re no longer funding the school. From day one, the founders created a very clear separation between governance and management to ensure an oversight that kept TCF away from the shadow of corruption. In some cases, they have returned money to donors if they felt that there were strings attached or that they could not justify the promises made, ensuring they are not dependent on any single entity. When USAID pulled out, it was ‘seismic’ for the NGO community in Pakistan, he says, as a cautionary tale of dependence. Female quotient About 66pc of TCF’s education budget goes towards teacher compensation, transportation, and training, delivering over 110 hours of professional development each year — double what the public sector can provide. Tackling the problem of transportation, TCF operates 700-800 vehicles that travel 75,000km daily to transport female teachers and students to and from school. For many, this commute time amounts to one to two and a half hours daily, but it ensures the safety and access necessary for female attendance. Research shows that for every additional 500 meters a girl has to walk to school, female enrollment drops by 15pc. Unlike boys, girls face far greater safety and cultural barriers, so TCF builds small schools embedded within communities to maintain a 50:50 gender ratio. TCF is one of the largest private-sector employers of women, as 85pc of its 23,000 employees are female. Female school leaders become powerful figures in their communities, often being the only prominent women in positions of influence amidst a male-dominated local leadership, which in turn affects the culture of the locality. The success stories “At every top university in Pakistan that I have attended, whether it’s IBA, GIK, or elsewhere, when I speak to a group of students, afterwards, three or so will often come up to me and say, ‘sir, I’m actually from TCF’,” says the CEO of a network of over 2,000 schools. One out of every five children attending TCF goes on to university, according to TCF data, and around 61pc are employed. For both boys and girls, the incomes that they earn are many multiples higher than their household incomes when they exit the TCF system. The mother, at the start of the story, was able to fulfil her desire for her daughter’s education and secure admission to the TCF school. “Once given a chance, these street-smart, resilient, and eager children fully invest in their journey. We’re seeing tremendous success — and so are the donors and parents who believe in them,” says Mr Abbas.