Half a year ago, Rakesh Pradhan, a 26-year-old private lodge manager from Malisahi village in Odisha’s Boudh district, could not write his own name. Today, he signs documents instead of leaving a thumb impression. He can send simple text messages, perform basic calculations in his head and navigate everyday tasks that once required someone else’s help.

“A literate person is someone who can sign their name, fill out forms, access banking services, perform basic online tasks and prepare their biodata,” Mr. Pradhan says.

For him, literacy is not measured by a certificate. It is the ability to sign his own name without assistance, read everyday labels and understand bank documents on his own.

Mr. Pradhan received informal education up to class 8. He left school as a child when financial hardship forced his family to pull him out of the classroom and into farming. Years later, it was not any advertisement that encouraged him to study, but a 24-year-old volunteer teacher, Somnath Barik, who persuaded him to return to learning.

Barik, a volunteer attached to the Government Upper Primary School in Malisahi, first learned about Understanding Lifelong Learning for All in Society (ULLAS) during a district orientation programme. “I didn’t know about ULLAS before. When I heard about it, I wanted to learn,” says Mr. Pradhan. Remembering Rakesh, who lived about two kilometres away, he approached him with the idea.

“He had never heard of ULLAS before. When I explained the programme to him, he became interested and asked, ‘Teach me too,’” Mr. Barik recalls.

Before enrolling, Mr. Pradhan underwent the programme’s screening assessment in Odia and basic mathematics. Those who are unable to clear the foundational test are enrolled under ULLAS, where volunteer teachers provide instruction in literacy and numeracy.

Because Mr. Rakesh speaks only Odia, Barik conducted all the lessons in Odia. For nearly three weeks, the two met regularly whenever work permitted, covering basic reading, writing and arithmetic.

“Earlier, he couldn’t write. Now he can write on his own, send simple messages and do basic calculations,” says Mr. Barik. “These may seem like small things, but they make a real difference in everyday life.”

Yet Mr. Pradhan’s learning also reflects the limits of adult education. “I have always wanted to study, but family responsibilities stopped me,” Mr. Pradhan mentions. He is the sole breadwinner in his family, and due to family responsibilities, he is not allowed to study throughout the months. He owns only one smartphone, which he carries to work, making it difficult to use the ULLAS app regularly. Most of his learning happened face-to-face, in offline classes, rather than online.

Volunteer teachers like Mr. Barik argue that continuity remains the programme’s greatest challenge.

Although he can now sign his name and communicate with simple messages, he still depends on others to read complex documents, such as medicine labels and official forms.

His story mirrors a larger question confronting India’s adult literacy mission.

The National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 reframed adult education as a lifelong right rather than a remedial programme. It envisioned schools, libraries and community institutions serving as learning centres, while integrating literacy with digital skills, financial awareness and vocational education. It also set an ambitious target of achieving full youth and adult literacy by 2030.

ULLAS, launched in 2022 as the policy’s flagship adult education programme, translated that vision into a volunteer-led model supported by a national portal, a mobile application and biannual certification examinations.

“On paper, ULLAS has done exactly what the National Education Policy asked it to do. It has expanded literacy beyond reading, writing and numeracy to include digital literacy, financial literacy, legal awareness, health and vocational skills. That is a genuine conceptual shift. But a vision on paper and a vision delivered are two very different things,” says Rahul Verma, independent researcher and sociology educator. He adds that while the policy’s understanding of literacy has evolved, implementation has not always matched its ambition, particularly in ensuring access for the adults it seeks to reach.

For education experts, the question is not simply how many adults enrol, but whether programmes enable learners to function independently in daily life.

“I think that learner has said, in one sentence, what policy documents take three paragraphs to say badly. Reading and writing were never the end goal. They were always meant to enable people to sign their own name, fill out forms, check their bank balance or use public services independently. What he is describing is functional dignity,” Mr. Verma says. He argued that the programme’s design risks excluding the very population it was intended to include unless stronger community-based support systems are built around it.

Mr. Barik points to another challenge: digital access. Mr. Pradhan has only one smartphone in the household and cannot use the application regularly because he takes the device to work. He also believes learners need more time to become comfortable with English and digital platforms, making sustained support essential for adult education.

“ULLAS is a good programme. If it continues for a longer period, people can move ahead. But if it runs for only a month or two and then stops, people cannot become fully literate,” he says.

He also believes learning is most effective when it begins in the learner’s own language. “People should be taught in the language they understand,” Barik adds.

“The challenge is not that ULLAS has the wrong definition of literacy. In many ways, it reflects contemporary thinking about what literacy should mean. The challenge lies in translating that vision into consistent, accessible learning opportunities across the country,” Mr. Verma says. He adds that achieving universal adult literacy would require far greater investment in outreach, continuity and learner support than in designing policy frameworks alone.

“An adult does not need to prove fluency to an examiner. An adult needs literacy to function as an independent citizen. If a learner can sign documents, navigate banking services, read basic public information and make everyday decisions without depending on someone else, that is a meaningful measure of literacy,” Mr. Verma says. He says such practical capabilities often reflect the real success of adult education programmes more accurately than certification or examination results.

Though ULLAS comes with its own shortcomings, “ULLAS is a good programme.” If it continues, people can move forward. But if it runs for only a month or two and then stops, people cannot become fully literate,” says Mr. Barik. “Many, like Rakesh, are not able to complete their course and get a certificate to distinguish their qualification. Mr. Barik also mentions that English takes time: “Sometimes using the application is difficult.” Barik identifies a digital gap and access to digital tools; many, like Mr. Rakesh, have only one digital device in the household, suggesting usability or digital literacy challenges.

For Mr. Pradhan, those debates remain secondary. Literacy has already changed the way he sees himself. Where he once left a thumb impression, he now writes his own name. For him, that simple act is not just about writing. It is about being able to participate in the world on his own terms. “Now I can write on my own, send messages and do minor calculations,” he says. Education has provided him with more job opportunities and greater confidence to do his work and teach his family.

Published - August 01, 2026 08:00 am IST