I came to Jamia for a better future. Now, I don't know what lies ahead

A student we met during our ground report at Jamia University recounts how protests and campus disruptions have unsettled his academic schedule, scholarship prospects and hopes for a better future. Read his account here...

In Short

• Online classes cannot replace hands-on kitchen training and food safety lessons
• Scholarship support fails to cover Delhi rent, food and daily expenses
• We shared accommodation to keep monthly living costs manageable

Editor's note: The student has requested anonymity. His identity has been withheld to protect his privacy. This account is based on our interaction with him during our ground report at Jamia

In front of the Ghalib statue at Jamia Millia Islamia, the announcement on October 29 brought an end to an 18-day protest. The university administration agreed to the students' demands, including the withdrawal of disciplinary action against protesting students and a deadline of May 15, 2027, for the implementation of the students' union constitution. Elections are to follow in accordance with the prescribed guidelines.

For many, it was a moment of relief. For me, it was also a reminder of how much time had already been lost.

I am a student of B.Voc Food Production at Jamia. I came here with a simple ambition, to become a chef. Whenever I watched a chef prepare a dish in a film or a television programme, I imagined myself standing in that place one day. There is a discipline to the profession, you see. A dish must hold its flavour from the first bite to the last. That does not come from watching someone cook. It comes from practice, patience and training.

I chose this three-year programme because I wanted to learn those things properly. From the work of a commis chef to the responsibilities of a sous chef, I wanted to understand the profession from the beginning. The laboratory and practical sessions were, for me, the most important part of that journey.

WHEN A CLASSROOM STARTED FEELING LESS LIKE A CLASS

When classes shifted online amid the protests, I began to worry about what I was missing. I had already experienced several days without proper offline learning. In a course such as mine, a screen cannot replace the practical experience of handling ingredients, understanding food safety or learning the techniques required in a kitchen.

I do not say that students should not protest. They have their reasons, and the demands for representation and accountability matter. But I also wanted to attend my classes. Why should a student who has come here to study have to choose between supporting a legitimate demand and protecting his education?

I kept asking myself why the disagreement between two sides had to affect the classroom in this manner. The administration may not agree with every demand made by students, but there must be a way to address those concerns without leaving students uncertain about their academic future.

For someone with limited means, missing a practical session is not a small inconvenience. It is a part of the training that may be difficult to recover.

COST OF STUDYING AWAY FROM HOME

My circumstances make this uncertainty harder. I come from a poor family background and depend on financial support to continue my education. A scholarship gives students like me an opportunity to study at an institution we might otherwise struggle to afford. It does not, however, remove the cost of living in Delhi.

I stay in a paying guest accommodation outside the university. The monthly expenses are already considerable, and I share a flat with four other people to keep the cost manageable. Cooking, managing daily expenses and keeping up with academic work are challenges in themselves.

Accommodation makes sense only when I can attend university and make use of the facilities for which I came here. If classes are moved online, the expenses outside the campus do not disappear. The rent remains due, food still has to be arranged, and the scholarship has to stretch across the month.

For students like me, education is not merely about securing admission. It is about being able to remain in the institution, attend classes and make use of the opportunities it promises.

A CAMPUS WAITING FOR NORMALCY

The protest also changed the atmosphere in which we studied. Heavy security deployment, barricades and restrictions around the campus made it difficult to recognise the place I had entered only a few months earlier with such expectations.

I had not imagined that a university would feel so tense. Seeing seniors and fellow students face confrontations while raising their demands was difficult. I had come to Jamia with a certain impression of the institution, its history and its standing. I expected a place where students could learn, question and grow.

The demands for a students' union did not emerge without reason. The university had not held union elections since 2006. Students wanted a representative body through which they could raise their concerns. The administration's October 29 decision has now provided a timeline, but the process is still to be completed.

The constitution is to be implemented by May 15 next year, with elections to follow. Until then, there remains a question of how the campus will function and whether disagreements will once again interrupt academic life.

I am relieved that the administration and the protesting students have reached an understanding. I hope the commitments made on October 29 are carried out. I also hope that the university returns to a routine in which students can attend their classes without having to worry about what might happen the following day.

I do not want to be caught between two sides. I want to learn. I want to enter the kitchen, practise what I have been taught and become capable of earning a living through the profession I have chosen.

For students who come from families with limited means, an opportunity such as Jamia is not something to be taken lightly. It carries the hopes of the student and, often, the sacrifices of an entire family.

The protest may have ended, but the work of restoring confidence has only begun. For now, I am waiting to return to the classroom. That is where I believe I belong.

- Ends