Jamaica’s early childhood sector: The crisis we chose not to see

Any serious discussion of early childhood education in Jamaica must first acknowledge the work of the Early Childhood Commission (ECC). The Commission has taken its regulatory mandate seriously—holding firm on standards, providing continuous professional development and training, and maintaining active engagement with schools across the island. Its reach is extensive, its officers are responsive, and its commitment to improving the quality of early childhood institutions is evident. The ECC operates squarely within the law, and with the resources available to it, does so with diligence and care.

However, strong regulation does not compensate for weak public investment. The limits of the system become clear when one looks at how early childhood education is structurally organised and financed.

There are approximately 490 government-operated early childhood institutions, including 63 standalone Infant Schools and 427 Infant Departments attached to primary schools. These serve only a minority of children. The vast majority—more than 2,000 early childhood centres—are community-run Basic Schools or private preschools, and together they enrol close to 80% of Jamaica’s early childhood population.

The difference between the two systems is stark. Infant Schools are fully funded by the state. Basic Schools are not. Parents pay fees, communities fundraise, and staff are often underpaid or volunteer. Historically, this was the norm. I attended Miss Chambers Basic School between 1963 and 1966, at a time when Infant Schools were rare and most Basic Schools operated independently or through churches. Decades later, the structure has expanded, but the funding philosophy has not.

Today, the government maintains a limited support arrangement under which some Basic Schools receive funding for a single trained teacher, provided they meet all 12 registration requirements of the Early Childhood Commission (ECC). These requirements, however, are difficult and costly to achieve, especially without financial assistance. As a result, only 323 Basic Schools currently meet the standards, while more than 2,300 do not.

This is not because schools or practitioners are unwilling to meet standards. It is because the cost of compliance is prohibitive. Early childhood practitioners are paid minimal salaries that are quickly consumed by mandatory requirements such as police records, food handlers’ permits, medical certificates, Child Protection Training, and NCTVET Level II or III certification. Schools are expected to meet all 12 ECC standards without operational funding, while practitioners are required to finance their own certification out of already meagre earnings. This is not an argument against certification or standards. It is an indictment of a system where jobs technically exist, but qualifying for them is financially unreachable.

Outside of Infant Schools, formal government financing effectively begins at Grade One. The result is that roughly 80% of children at the most developmentally critical stage of life are educated in schools that receive no consistent public funding.

The implications for children are profound. When early learning depends on parents’ ability to pay, community goodwill, and overstretched practitioners, children do not enter primary school on equal footing. By the time public funding begins, gaps in language, numeracy, social development, and emotional regulation are often already entrenched. This is especially troubling because early childhood is the period of greatest brain development—when timely investment yields the highest returns and inequality can be prevented at the lowest cost.

Without adequate funding, many Basic Schools struggle to provide safe and stimulating environments, learning materials, nutrition, and structured play. Children may be supervised, but they are not fully developed. Limited exposure to rich language, books, music, movement, and guided exploration weakens the foundations needed for later academic success. Meanwhile, underpaid and unsupported practitioners face burnout and high turnover, disrupting the stable relationships young children need to learn.

The effects extend beyond the classroom. Underfunded settings often lack screening tools, trained support staff, and early intervention services. Small challenges—speech delays, emotional dysregulation, attention difficulties—go unnoticed and later reappear as behavioural problems in primary school. Families, particularly mothers, continue to shoulder school fees, uniforms, and supplies, often making painful choices between education and basic survival. The irony is clear: what the system refuses to fund early, it pays for many times over later through remediation, behavioural intervention, and broader social costs.

This approach is not accidental. It reflects a legacy carried forward from the pre-independence era, when early sorting ensured that poorer children were quietly streamed toward limited futures, while families with means paid for better schools and better outcomes. Jamaica is not unable to fund early childhood education; it has simply chosen not to make it a full public responsibility.

Other Caribbean countries treat early childhood differently. In The Bahamas, early childhood education is treated as a public responsibility through a mixed model. While compulsory education begins at age five, the government has pursued a Universal Pre-Primary Education strategy that expands access for children ages 3–5 through government support and partnerships with approved private preschools, including voucher/grant arrangements. The state also regulates the sector through national standards, registration requirements, and inspection/oversight, signalling that early learning is not left solely to parental income or community fundraising.

Jamaica has an opportunity to lead the Caribbean by rethinking how it treats early childhood education—not as a private or community burden, but as a public responsibility. The Bahamas offers a useful regional example. Through its Universal Pre-Primary Education strategy, the Bahamian state has accepted responsibility for early learning by supporting access for children ages 3–5, regulating quality, and partnering with approved providers rather than leaving families to navigate the system alone. The Bahamian government does not delay responsibility until Grade One; it recognises early childhood as foundational and publicly supported. Jamaica can choose to do the same—moving away from inherited colonial practices that sort children early and toward a modern, equity-driven model that invests in its youngest citizens.

The question, then, is not whether Jamaica can afford to invest in early childhood education. It is whether the country is willing to end a long-standing practice of leaving its youngest children and lowest-paid educators to carry the cost of a system that depends on them—only to pay the consequences later.

Dr. Leo Gilling is a criminologist, educator, and diaspora policy advocate. He writes The Gilling Papers, where he examines policing, public safety, governance, and community-based solutions in Jamaica and across the African diaspora. Send feedback to editorial@oldharbournews.com