A Call to Save Our Kids Breaking the Hoax of “Survival of the Fittest”
The birth of a child is a moment of unmatched joy; a new life welcomed with smiles, prayers, and dreams. And truly, for the first few years, this child reigns in love and attention, becoming the center of the universe for their parents and family. These early years are painted in shades of innocence and affection. There are no conditions, no expectations only laughter, play and warmth. But this tender chapter ends abruptly.
The same child, once celebrated without measure, soon enters the formal education system. And with that, the world begins to measure them. School is not just a place for learning; it becomes the first battleground. The child, barely past the age of five, is now in a race they never signed up for. Their charm begins to fade in the eyes of society, replaced by the weight of expectations and comparisons. Suddenly, being joyful isn't enough they must be productive, focused and competitive.
From this early stage, a child is taught that life is about proving worth. The message is subtle but persistent work hard or you will be left behind. The phrase “survival of the fittest” becomes not just a concept from biology but a mindset implanted into the growing minds of children by parents, teachers and peers. It becomes the lens through which success is viewed and more importantly through which failure is feared.
In Kashmir, this mindset takes an even more rigid form. Society has established academic milestones that have become the sole measure of a student’s potential and future. The Class 10 board exams are viewed as the first judgment day. A student’s performance is dissected, compared and often used to define their entire academic identity. Class 12 becomes the second decisive point, where the verdict is given whether this student will "make it" or become a "failure." And what does it mean to "make it"? According to the prevailing mindset, it means securing top grades, cracking NEET or IIT-JEE, and eventually landing a government job. Only then is a person considered truly successful.
This rigid definition of achievement leaves little room for creativity, individuality or even happiness. It creates a narrow tunnel through which every child is forced to pass regardless of their unique strengths or aspirations. And the toll is severe. What begins as encouragement turns into pressure. The joy of learning is replaced by the anxiety of performance. We see students begin to break under the weight mentally, emotionally and tragically, sometimes physically. The rising cases of student suicides linked to exam results and job selections are not isolated incidents they reflect a broken education system.
Recently, two young children in Kashmir faked their own kidnapping just to escape school pressure. When kids choose fear over classrooms, it's a clear sign that something is deeply wrong. Whenever I think back to my school days and compare them to what I see in today’s education system I am left with a complex mix of anger and bitter laughter. It’s not that I intend to demean teachers, but the structure of our educational setup itself is deeply flawed. It’s a system that often crushes young minds under the weight of unrealistic expectations and unnecessary pressure.
I vividly remember standing in morning assemblies, where instead of learning values or starting the day with inspiration, we were punished for not chanting the duas loud enough. I recall teachers beating students mercilessly for the smallest things slight delays, minor uniform infractions, or just not sitting straight. Some of those memories still sting. And as much as I try to forgive, I cannot help but think that such behaviour reflects not discipline, but a deep psychological issue. Forgive me, dear teachers but in my humble opinion any adult who finds justification in violently disciplining a six-year-old child needs more than training they need psychiatric consultation.
The thought that a 35-year-old adult would strike 6 years old kids because their uniform isn’t perfectly clean is not just disturbing. it's heartbreaking. Yet the same teacher, whose conscience seems numb to empathy, often lectures students about the path to success and virtue. The contradiction is stark and painful. And this issue isn’t limited to classrooms. Parents, too have internalized this culture of punishment. A 6 year old child who simply wants to skip a day of school, maybe because they’re tired or anxious is beaten or scolded without a second thought. No space is given for dialogue or understanding. The child's voice and sometimes even their tears are dismissed.
My younger brother, who is deeply disillusioned with the education system often murmurs something to my six-month-old baby. He says, “Right now, you’re a king. But soon, you’ll be admitted to school, then a frustrated teacher will force you to do homework, punish you for minor mistakes, and slowly drain the joy out of learning.” It’s a heartbreaking joke, made in half-humor and half-truth because we both know the system rarely rewards creativity, individuality, or emotion.
In our current setup, success is measured through a painfully narrow lens. A student is pushed to the edge over a difference of 0.5 mark; half a mark that, in reality, has no bearing on a child’s character, capability, or future. Instead of nurturing minds, we are manufacturing anxiety. Instead of building character, we’re teaching compliance. The definition of success that our education system propagates is not only vague and outdated, it’s damaging. Education should be about enlightenment, not endurance. It should cultivate curiosity, compassion, and confidence not fear, frustration, and fatigue. Until we recognize this and act on it, generations will continue to pass through this system not as learners, but as survivors.
The irony is, while society worships high scorers, it also consumes with fascination the stories of those who didn’t follow the conventional path yet achieved greatness. Every year, during exam seasons, social media floods with images of bureaucrats, artists, and entrepreneurs who barely went to school or college but went on to succeed in life. Some top government officers even resign from their posts to pursue different dreams, quietly dismantling the idea that such positions are the ultimate goals of life.
Deep down, most people know that academic results don’t define a person’s destiny. Yet the pressure continues, almost as if society is addicted to this illusion of merit through marks. Parents, often out of concern but misguided by societal norms, continue to push their children. And so, the cycle repeats generation after generation.
There is also a spiritual hollowness to this race. We say we believe in divine providence, yet we behave as if everything depends on a scorecard. A scholar once beautifully explained that just as a father wouldn’t send his child to a far-off city without proper preparation, the Almighty wouldn’t send a soul to this earth without equipping them with what they need to survive. In the Holy Quran, it is clearly stated: “Wallahu khairur raziqeen” “And Allah is the best of providers.” We repeat this verse often, yet rarely live by its truth. If we truly believed that our sustenance and success come from the Almighty, we wouldn’t torment ourselves and our children in the name of societal validation.
Life is not meant to be a race against others. It is a journey of discovering who we are, what we can give, and how we can grow. Every human being is born with a unique purpose and path. Some children are artists, some thinkers, some builders, some healers. To reduce their worth to a set of marks on a page is not just unfair it is inhumane. It’s time to reshape the way we define success. Let us raise children who are kind, curious and confident not just competitive. Let us measure worth not in marks but in meaning. Let us stop comparing destinies and start nurturing potential. The phrase “survival of the fittest” has no place in a society that believes in compassion, community, and divine will.
Success is not reserved for the top scorers, nor is failure the destiny of those who stumble. Real success lies in resilience, purpose, and peace of mind. And if we, as a society can return to this truth if we can allow our children to grow instead of making them compete endlessly, we may once again earn the right to call them kings.
Peerzada Mohsin Shafi, from Anantnag, J&K, holds an M. Tech in Infrastructure Development & Management. He is a research scholar, columnist, blogger (mohsinpeerzada.blogspot.com), poet, and has authored several research papers on project management and construction. He is a member of ASCE, IAENG, and IIQS.
