A Requiem for Nali-Kali, The Quiet Fading of a Creative Experiment in Public Education
The reported decision of the Government of Karnataka to phase out the Nali-Kali scheme beginning in the 2026–27 academic year marks more than an administrative change. For many educators, parents, and policy observers, it feels like the quiet fading of one of the most creative experiments in India’s public education.
Launched in 1995–96, Nali-Kali—literally “learn and play”—was Karnataka’s pioneering effort to reimagine early primary education in government schools. At a time when rote learning, rigid seating, and teacher-centred instruction dominated classrooms, it introduced activity-based learning, colourful learning corners, peer interaction, and flexible pacing. It was especially designed for multi-grade rural classrooms, where resources were scarce but human potential abundant.
For nearly three decades, the programme reshaped the experience of young children in thousands of government schools. Classrooms became vibrant spaces of movement and expression. Children sang, narrated, solved puzzles, worked in groups, and learnt collaboratively. Teachers, instead of merely transmitting textbook content, became facilitators of learning.
The Philosophy Behind the Model
Peer dynamics in multi-grade settings fostered cooperation rather than competition. Activity zones reduced hierarchical rigidity. Children progressed at varied paces without stigma. The atmosphere was warmer, less authoritarian. In an era that increasingly recognises mental well-being and inclusion as central to schooling, such attributes are not luxuries; they are foundational to equitable education.
For first-generation learners—many from Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, Backward Classes, minority communities, and economically vulnerable households—this shift was transformative. School ceased to be intimidating; it became welcoming.
More importantly, Nali-Kali represented more than a technique. It echoed principles akin to Mahatma Gandhi’s Nai Talim philosophy—learning through activity, integrating head, heart and hand, and rooting education in joy rather than fear. Gandhi believed that education must cultivate confidence, creativity and moral development alongside literacy. Nali-Kali reflected this spirit in contemporary form.
The Government’s Rationale
The government’s rationale for phasing out the scheme cannot be dismissed lightly. Reports suggest concerns about poor learning outcomes, implementation gaps, and increased teacher workload. Foundational literacy and numeracy are now national priorities. If evidence shows children are not achieving essential competencies, corrective action is necessary.
But discarding the model entirely risks conflating implementation failures with conceptual inadequacy. The central question remains: was the problem the philosophy of Nali-Kali—or its implementation?
Many policy innovations falter not because they are conceptually flawed, but because they are unevenly institutionalised. Teacher training may have been inconsistent. Monitoring systems may have assessed outcomes in ways misaligned with activity-based pedagogy. Multi-grade classrooms, though pedagogically rich, require sustained administrative support. Without it, even the most imaginative models struggle.
The Risk of Loss
As Karnataka shifts towards structured single-grade classrooms and extends remedial initiatives like Ganitha-Ganaka, efficiency may increase. Standardisation may improve assessment alignment. Yet one must ask: what might be lost?
The debate compels reflection on how we define “quality.” If quality is reduced solely to standardised test scores, pedagogical diversity narrows. But education also includes confidence in speaking, curiosity in questioning, freedom from fear, and the ability to collaborate. These outcomes are harder to quantify but deeply consequential.
Field reports over the years often noted reduced early-grade dropout, higher participation, and greater parental trust in government schools where Nali-Kali was effectively implemented. For marginalised communities, government schools are not laboratories; they are lifelines. When children narrated classrooms with enthusiasm, the state earned moral credibility.
The Cycle of Innovation and Abandonment
Public policy in India often moves in cycles of innovation and abandonment. Institutional memory weakens. Teachers adapt repeatedly to shifting frameworks. Continuity becomes the casualty of reform.
If Nali-Kali must be restructured, let reform not erase its legacy. A more balanced approach could have involved independent evaluation of long-term outcomes, teacher training, hybrid models combining structure with creativity, and improved monitoring mechanisms aligned with activity-based pedagogy.
What Nali-Kali Taught Us
A requiem is not an act of nostalgia. It is an act of recognition. Nali-Kali taught us that government schools could innovate. It demonstrated that joy and learning are not opposites. It carried forward, in its own modest way, the ethos that education should serve the last child with dignity.
In the rush to improve learning outcomes, we must be careful not to lose the gains that are harder to measure. The confidence of a child who speaks without fear, the curiosity of a child who asks questions, the cooperation of children learning together—these are not distractions from learning; they are its deepest purpose.
The Way Forward
Perhaps there is a middle path. Not a complete abandonment of the Nali-Kali philosophy, but a thoughtful integration with the new priorities. Structured learning does not have to mean joyless learning. Accountability does not have to mean rigid uniformity.
The children who benefited from Nali-Kali are now adults. Some may be teachers themselves, carrying forward the spirit of learning they experienced. Their stories deserve to be heard before we close the chapter entirely.
Conclusion: Learning from What Worked
Nali-Kali was not perfect. No programme spanning three decades and thousands of schools could be. But it represented something valuable—a vision of education that respected children, empowered teachers, and welcomed communities.
As Karnataka moves forward, it should carry with it the lessons of Nali-Kali: that learning can be joyful, that children learn differently and at different paces, that education is about more than test scores. These insights are not obsolete; they are more relevant than ever.
The requiem for Nali-Kali should not be a funeral. It should be a moment of reflection, a chance to honour what worked and to ensure that its spirit is not entirely lost in the pursuit of measurable outcomes.
Q&A: Unpacking the Nali-Kali Phase-Out
Q1: What was Nali-Kali and when was it launched?
Nali-Kali, meaning “learn and play,” was a pioneering educational programme launched by the Karnataka government in 1995-96. It introduced activity-based learning, colourful learning corners, peer interaction, and flexible pacing in early primary education, especially designed for multi-grade rural classrooms with scarce resources. It reshaped the experience of young children in thousands of government schools for nearly three decades.
Q2: What philosophy underpinned the Nali-Kali approach?
Nali-Kali echoed principles akin to Mahatma Gandhi’s Nai Talim philosophy—learning through activity, integrating head, heart and hand, and rooting education in joy rather than fear. It fostered cooperation over competition, allowed children to progress at varied paces without stigma, and created warmer, less authoritarian classrooms. For first-generation learners from marginalised communities, it transformed schools from intimidating spaces into welcoming environments.
Q3: Why is the government phasing out the scheme?
The government cites concerns about poor learning outcomes, implementation gaps, and increased teacher workload. Foundational literacy and numeracy are now national priorities, and if evidence shows children are not achieving essential competencies, corrective action is necessary. However, critics argue this conflates implementation failures with conceptual inadequacy—the problem may be inconsistent training and monitoring, not the philosophy itself.
Q4: What might be lost in the shift away from Nali-Kali?
The shift towards structured single-grade classrooms and remedial initiatives may increase efficiency and improve assessment alignment, but could sacrifice harder-to-measure outcomes: confidence in speaking, curiosity in questioning, freedom from fear, and ability to collaborate. Field reports noted reduced dropout rates and greater parental trust where Nali-Kali was effectively implemented. These gains are not captured by standardised test scores.
Q5: What alternative approach could have been considered?
A more balanced approach could have included independent evaluation of long-term outcomes, teacher training, hybrid models combining structure with creativity, and improved monitoring mechanisms aligned with activity-based pedagogy. Rather than abandoning the philosophy entirely, it could have been thoughtfully integrated with new priorities. The question is whether we can honour what worked while addressing what didn’t.
