Ban or band-aid?: The reality of coaching centres in Bangladesh

For decades, coaching centres have functioned as an unspoken second classroom for students across Bangladesh, a parallel system shaped by exam pressure, parental anxiety, and the widespread belief that school alone is not enough. Now, that system faces its most significant challenge yet. The Ministry of Education has moved to ban commercial coaching centres under the draft Education Act 2026, aiming to reclaim classrooms, reduce inequality, and curb the commercialisation of education.

The policy is being presented as a corrective measure, one that promises to shift academic support back into schools. Yet a critical question remains: can a system relied upon by millions be dismantled without addressing the gaps that made it necessary in the first place?

Coaching centres did not emerge merely as business ventures; they developed in response to structural weaknesses within the formal education system. Classrooms are often overcrowded, limiting individual attention. Teachers, burdened by extensive syllabi and tight schedules, frequently prioritise completing coursework over ensuring comprehension. In such an environment, falling behind is easy, and catching up within school hours is difficult.

Bangladesh's exam-centric culture has further driven the rise of coaching. Public examinations such as SSC, HSC, O Levels, and A Levels are treated as life-defining milestones, where small differences in marks can shape future opportunities. For many families, coaching has become less a luxury and more an insurance policy in a high-stakes system with little margin for error.

Trust also plays a role. Many urban families no longer believe that classroom teaching alone is sufficient for competitive results. Coaching centres offer exam-focused strategies, shortcuts, and predictable outcomes, things the formal system often struggles to guarantee. Over time, this has normalised the idea that success requires learning beyond school.

In this sense, coaching centres filled a vacuum rather than creating one. They stepped in where the system fell short. Any attempt to remove them, therefore, must confront a fundamental reality: unless these gaps are addressed, the demand that sustained coaching will persist, simply shifting form.

In the short term, the ban may reduce the visibility of coaching through closures and enforcement. However, demand-driven systems rarely disappear; they adapt. Previous restrictions suggest coaching often moves into private homes, small group sessions, or online platforms that are harder to regulate.

Enforcement presents a major challenge. Monitoring thousands of centres nationwide requires sustained oversight, something local administrations may struggle to provide. Continued involvement of teachers in private tuition, despite restrictions, could further weaken the policy if accountability and incentives are not improved.

Schools are expected to fill the gap through in-house support, yet they continue to face constraints such as large class sizes and limited resources. Without parallel investment in teachers, infrastructure, and academic support systems, the ban risks existing more on paper than in practice.

Financial realities add another layer of complexity. For many middle-class families, coaching has become a greater expense than formal schooling itself. Monthly school fees typically range between Tk2,000 and Tk3,000, while coaching and private tuition can cost Tk8,000 to Tk10,000 per child or more. This disparity highlights how coaching has evolved into a parallel education system rather than a supplementary service.

Eliminating coaching centres does not automatically reduce this financial burden. If classroom quality does not improve, families are likely to redirect spending toward private tutors, informal study groups, online platforms, or guidebooks, all of which carry high costs. Experts warn that such a shift would leave the underlying economic strain unchanged while making it harder to regulate.

There is also a risk of widening inequality. Wealthier families may adapt by securing private tutors or alternative resources, while lower-income students could lose access to additional support altogether. Without broader reforms, the ban could deepen existing disparities rather than resolve them.

The perspectives of those directly affected highlight these concerns. Many students view coaching as essential. One HSC candidate in Dhaka notes that several hours of daily coaching are necessary to keep up with the syllabus, adding that without similar support from schools, managing studies would become difficult.

Parents, meanwhile, face both financial and emotional pressure. Although coaching costs can exceed school fees, many still see it as necessary to prevent their children from falling behind. Even if coaching centres disappear, they expect spending on education to continue through other means.

Teachers find themselves caught between policy and reality. Many acknowledge that schools cannot meet students' needs without additional resources. Large classes, limited time, and insufficient training make it difficult to replace coaching. At the same time, some teachers rely on private tutoring to supplement low salaries, raising concerns about how stricter enforcement might affect them.

Beyond immediate impacts, the ban raises a broader policy question: does it represent genuine reform, or does it address symptoms rather than causes?

Past attempts to regulate coaching in Bangladesh have produced mixed results. Crackdowns often reduce visible activity temporarily, but demand tends to resurface in less visible forms. Without reforms in curriculum, teaching quality, and assessment methods, the factors driving coaching, such as exam pressure and gaps in classroom support, remain unchanged.

For the policy to succeed, experts argue it must be accompanied by structural investment. This includes smaller class sizes, better-trained teachers, and expanded academic support within schools. Without these changes, coaching is unlikely to disappear; it will simply move underground.

At the end of the day, the success of the ban will depend not just on enforcement, but on whether schools can become environments where students can succeed without relying on parallel systems. The goal is an education system strong enough to make coaching unnecessary, a challenge that will test both policymakers and institutions in the years ahead.