Before entering the teaching profession, I spent several years in corporate communication, working extensively with English-language media, writing, editing and professional communication. Over time, I became increasingly aware of the fear English creates for many students—not simply the fear of the subject, but the fear of making mistakes, being judged and ultimately failing.
I began to wonder: could I help turn English from a source of anxiety into a tool for confidence, expression and opportunity?
That question eventually brought me from the corporate world into a government school classroom.
The transition was hardly glamorous. Polished offices gave way to modest classrooms, dusty floors and a scarcely equipped staff room. Yet I came with a simple hope: to make a difference.
Years later, I sometimes find myself asking a painful question:
Am I a failed teacher?
The question has become harder to ignore after the recent Grade Nine results.
I have considerable professional experience in English language teaching and a master’s degree in Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL). Yet a result sheet cannot capture everything that happens inside a classroom. A teacher may plan lessons, identify learning gaps, work with struggling students and keep trying—and still be judged by a single number.
This is not an argument against accountability. Teachers must be accountable.
But can the performance of an entire education system really be reduced to the performance of individual teachers?
Poor results demand attention. They should lead to honest reflection and corrective action. But they should also make us look beyond the classroom door.
Outdated curricula, rote learning, examination patterns, gaps in teacher training, limited resources, weak assessment practices, parental disengagement and inadequate use of technology all influence learning outcomes. When a complex problem is reduced to a single culprit, we may punish a symptom while leaving the disease untreated.
Teachers, too, must look inward. No teacher is beyond improvement. Professional respect cannot become an excuse for complacency.
But accountability works best when it is accompanied by support, professional development, meaningful feedback and the resources needed to improve. Blame may identify a target; support builds capacity.
Perhaps the deeper problem lies in what we choose to measure.
If students are trained mainly to memorise guidebooks and reproduce predetermined answers, examinations may measure memory more than understanding. In language learning, a memorised essay may earn marks, but it does not necessarily produce a student who can communicate confidently, think critically or express an original idea.
So we should ask an uncomfortable question:
When an examination rewards conformity more than understanding, should the examination system itself not be examined?
A good examination should test what a student understands, not merely how much a student can remember.
Recent efforts to strengthen examination integrity and curb cheating are welcome. But examination integrity requires more than surveillance. It also requires trained evaluators, transparent procedures, modern assessment methods and appropriate use of technology.
The Grade Nine results should therefore be a wake-up call—not merely for teachers, but for the entire education system.
We need to ask:
Are our curricula preparing students for today’s world?
Are our examinations testing understanding or memory?
Are teachers receiving meaningful professional development?
Do schools have the resources and technology they need?
Are evaluators equipped to assess different forms of learning and expression?
And are parents and communities playing their part?
These are not excuses.
They are questions of reform.
Teachers should be partners in that reform. They are closest to the classroom and often see learning problems before anyone else does. Their experience should help shape policy, not simply be invoked when results disappoint.
Education cannot be repaired through blame alone. It requires better curricula, stronger teacher development, thoughtful assessment, appropriate technology and meaningful parental engagement.
Most importantly, it requires a culture in which accountability and trust can coexist.
A nation that wants better students must also create better conditions for those who teach them.
Teachers are not merely employees within an education system. They are entrusted with shaping the knowledge, character and aspirations of the next generation. Their shortcomings deserve scrutiny, but so do the shortcomings of the system in which they work.
So perhaps the question should not simply be:
Who failed?
The more important question is:
What must change so that everyone can succeed?
Teachers deserve accountability.
They deserve support.
And they deserve the professional respect that enables them to serve their students better.
Perhaps real educational reform begins when we stop looking for someone to blame and start looking for something to change.
About the Author
Muhammad Rabnawaz Awan is an educator, social awareness advocate and the voice behind several online campaigns aimed at reviving empathy, civic responsibility and moral consciousness among young people. He writes regularly on educational reform, social challenges, character-building and the need to nurture thoughtful and responsible citizens. He tweets @ToleranceAdvocate.
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