When teachers at Secondary School Urichua in Satna district climb onto their school’s roof every morning, it’s not for the view — it’s to survive. In a rural corner of Madhya Pradesh, educators risk injury just to clock in. The culprit? A mandatory digital attendance app, the Hamare Shikshak App, that refuses to recognize their presence unless they’re standing in a patch of mobile signal no bigger than a yoga mat. Since its rollout on July 1, 2024, the School Education Department, Madhya Pradesh has docked salaries of hundreds of teachers for ‘absences’ caused not by laziness, but by dead zones. Some are earning less than half their pay. And the system shows no signs of backing down.
The Rooftop Attendance Ritual
At Secondary School Urichua, nestled in the hilly Uchhera Development Block, the school building has zero mobile reception. Inside, the Hamare Shikshak App freezes. So teachers — some in their 50s, others new to the profession — scramble up metal ladders, balancing phones in one hand, notebooks in the other, scanning the sky like weather forecasters hunting for rain. They stand on rooftops for 20, sometimes 40 minutes. One teacher told reporters she once slipped trying to reposition her phone. She broke her wrist. Still, she came back the next day.The app uses face recognition and GPS to verify presence. But GPS needs satellite signals. Face recognition needs light. And both need data. In places like Parsmaniyaa Block and Maujgawan Block, even 4G is a luxury. Cloudy days make it worse. As Patrika reported, on one Wednesday in August, cloud cover disrupted signals so badly that attendance records collapsed. Teachers weren’t absent — they were invisible to the system.
Salary Cuts, Not Warnings
There’s no grace period. No appeal. No exception for technical failure. If the app doesn’t register your face by 9:05 a.m., you’re marked absent. And that’s it — 10% of your salary gone. Two missed days? 20%. Three? You’re down to 70%. Teachers in Satna report monthly paychecks of ₹8,000 instead of ₹22,000. Some, after months of accumulated absences, received just ₹6,500. That’s not a glitch — it’s financial punishment for infrastructure the state never fixed.“शिक्षकों का कहना है कि नेटवर्क समस्या होने के कारण समय पर उपस्थिति दर्ज नहीं हो पाती और विभाग उन्हें अनुपस्थित मानकर वेतन में कटौती कर देता है,” said one teacher in an NDTV interview. The same story echoed from Navbharat Times: “कई बार घंटों इंतजार के बाद भी जब सिग्नल नहीं मिलता... इसका खामियाजा उन्हें अपनी सैलरी कटवा कर भुगतना पड़ता है।”
And here’s the cruel irony: only 88,127 of Madhya Pradesh’s 350,000 teachers even downloaded the app. On day one, just 19,000 logged attendance. By the next Wednesday? Only 10,471. That’s fewer than 3% of the state’s teaching force. Yet the department didn’t pause. It doubled down.
Education Is Collapsing Too
The damage isn’t just financial. It’s educational. Teachers in Satna say they now spend more time hunting for signal than planning lessons. One science teacher in Maujgawan Block told Dainik Bhaskar he missed three days of physics instruction last month — not because he was sick, but because he spent those days on rooftops, waiting for his phone to connect. “We’re not just losing pay,” he said. “We’re losing our purpose.”Classrooms are quieter. Students notice. Parents ask questions. The state’s own data shows rural schools already struggle with teacher vacancies. Now, those who show up are too exhausted, distracted, or demoralized to teach effectively. “शिक्षा की गुणवत्ता भी प्रभावित हो रही है, क्योंकि शिक्षकों का कीमती समय नेटवर्क की तलाश में ही बर्बाद हो जाता है,” Bhaskar concluded. The system meant to improve accountability is eroding trust — and learning.
What’s Next? Mandla’s Warning
The state isn’t listening to teachers. It’s preparing to punish administrators too. In Mandla district, the Tribal Welfare Department issued a directive: starting November 1, 2025, any failure to record attendance on the eHRMS portal will trigger a 7-day salary deduction for Block Education Officers, Cluster Principals, and even Drawing and Disbursement Officers. That’s not a policy tweak. It’s a threat. The message is clear: if you can’t make the system work, you’ll pay for it.Teacher unions have protested since the app’s trial phase. They’ve held rallies, submitted petitions, even staged silent sit-ins. But the School Education Department, Madhya Pradesh insists the system is “transparent” and “efficient.” What it doesn’t say is that efficiency without equity is just another form of neglect.
Why This Matters Beyond Madhya Pradesh
This isn’t just a local crisis. It’s a national warning. India’s push for digital governance in education — from e-attendance to AI-based monitoring — is accelerating. But in villages without reliable electricity, let alone 4G, these tools become weapons against the very people they claim to protect. The School Education Department, Madhya Pradesh could fix this: install Wi-Fi hotspots in schools, allow offline mode with sync later, or pause deductions until infrastructure improves. Instead, they’ve chosen punishment over pragmatism.And the cost? It’s measured in rupees, yes — but also in broken wrists, silent classrooms, and children who wonder why their teachers look so tired.
Frequently Asked Questions
How many teachers in Madhya Pradesh are affected by the e-attendance system’s failures?
While exact numbers are unverified, reports from Satna, Mandla, and other rural districts indicate hundreds of teachers have faced salary cuts exceeding 50%. With only 88,127 of 350,000 state teachers having downloaded the app, and attendance figures dropping to under 10,500 daily, the system is failing the vast majority — particularly in areas with poor network coverage like Uchhera, Parsmaniyaa, and Maujgawan Blocks.
Why hasn’t the government fixed the network problem before enforcing the app?
The School Education Department, Madhya Pradesh rolled out the app without first auditing connectivity in rural schools. Despite knowing that 60% of Madhya Pradesh’s schools lie in areas with unreliable networks, no infrastructure investment — like installing local Wi-Fi or 4G boosters — was made prior to enforcement. Critics argue this reflects a top-down, tech-first mindset that ignores ground realities.
Are there alternatives to the Hamare Shikshak App that could work better?
Yes. Other states like Kerala and Tamil Nadu use offline-capable apps that sync data when connectivity returns. Some districts allow biometric attendance via fingerprint scanners in schools with electricity. Even a simple paper register, digitally uploaded once a week, would be more equitable. The problem isn’t technology — it’s the refusal to adapt it to real conditions, not just ideal ones.
What’s the impact on students’ learning?
Teachers report spending 1–2 hours daily searching for signal, time that should be spent preparing lessons or mentoring students. In some schools, classes have been canceled because teachers were too exhausted or demoralized to teach after hours on rooftops. Student attendance has dipped, and parents are asking why their children’s teachers seem distracted. The quality of education in rural Madhya Pradesh is deteriorating — not because teachers are uncommitted, but because the system is punishing them for conditions beyond their control.
Will the salary deductions be reversed if teachers prove the network was down?
No. The system has no appeals process. Even if a teacher submits photos of their rooftop struggle or screenshots showing failed login attempts, the app’s automated logic overrides human judgment. There’s no designated officer to review exceptions. Teachers say the department treats every missed attendance as negligence — not as a technical failure. That’s why many have stopped trying to appeal altogether.
What’s the government’s official response to these complaints?
The School Education Department, Madhya Pradesh has issued no public statement addressing the salary cuts or rooftop attendance crisis. Officials cite “system integrity” and “transparency” as reasons for maintaining the policy. Behind closed doors, internal emails suggest awareness of the issue — but no action plan has been shared with teachers or unions. The silence speaks louder than any policy document.