A professional degree is more than a certificate. It is a promise of legitimacy, stability and a secure future. When that promise collapses due to institutional failure, the consequences are immediate and deeply personal. Today, dozens of Kashmiri students find themselves in such a crisis, not because they failed academically, but because the institution they trusted failed to meet basic regulatory obligations. Their future now hangs between assurance and uncertainty.

The suspension of 33 Kashmiri students at Mewar University, Chittorgarh, Rajasthan India is therefore not a routine disciplinary issue. It reflects a serious institutional lapse. These students did not protest for privilege. They protested for legitimacy. They demanded recognition for a professional degree into which they have invested years of effort, financial resources and hope. The core issue is clear and undeniable: the university’s B.Sc. Nursing programme lacks mandatory approval from the Rajasthan Nursing Council and the Indian Nursing Council. Without these statutory recognitions, the validity of the degree remains uncertain. Professional registration becomes doubtful. Employment prospects shrink. The academic future of more than 50 students now stands at risk.

This is not a minor technical lapse. It is a regulatory failure with life-altering consequences. Nursing is not an ornamental qualification. It is a regulated profession governed by statutory frameworks designed to protect both practitioners and patients. Without council recognition, graduates cannot legally register as nurses. They cannot practice. They cannot pursue higher education with confidence. They cannot compete fairly in the healthcare job market. Years of academic effort risk being reduced to credentials without professional value.Yet instead of urgently correcting this lapse, the university chose suspension.

This response is deeply troubling. The students reportedly turned to peaceful protest only after repeated assurances produced no tangible outcome. A written commitment from the Registrar promised swift resolution. Months passed. No approval document was produced. No definitive timeline was shared. Clarity gave way to delay and reassurance to silence.

When institutions fail to meet regulatory standards, accountability must rest with administrators. It cannot be transferred to students who seek transparency and protection of their future. Suspending them sends a chilling message: silence is safer than speaking up. Such action undermines academic trust and erodes institutional credibility.

Kashmiri students pursuing education outside Jammu and Kashmir already face layered challenges. Many leave home due to limited professional opportunities within the region. They shoulder heavy financial burdens. They navigate cultural distance and social isolation. For them, higher education is not casual exploration. It is a calculated risk tied to family expectations and long-term security.

When that lifeline is threatened by administrative negligence, the psychological toll is severe. Anxiety deepens. Families back home worry. Financial sacrifices begin to feel futile. Students are forced to question whether their trust in educational institutions was misplaced. This uncertainty does not remain confined to classrooms. It follows them into their futures.

The episode also raises a broader concern. Are regulatory frameworks being treated as optional formalities rather than binding obligations? Professional courses in nursing and allied health cannot operate in ambiguity. Compliance is not decorative paperwork. It is the backbone of professional credibility and public safety. Launching a nursing programme without securing statutory approvals reflects flawed planning at best and reckless disregard at worst. Students are not buffers for administrative delay. They are stakeholders whose lives depend on institutional integrity. When compliance failures occur, students must be protected, not punished.

The university’s explanation, that inspection reports are submitted and approvals are in progress, does not resolve the central problem. Approvals must precede admissions. They cannot follow protests. Procedural explanations do not justify exposing students to academic and professional risk. Notably, the students’ demands remain reasonable. They seek either immediate statutory approval or transfer to a recognised institution without academic loss. These are practical solutions rooted in fairness. They prioritise continuity over confrontation.

At this stage, political intervention is essential. The welfare of students studying outside their home region cannot be left to prolonged administrative delay. Silence from authorities in the face of such uncertainty is not neutrality, it is neglect. More broadly, this crisis demands national reflection. Educational mobility across Indian states is increasing. Student protection cannot rely on informal assurances. It must be anchored in enforceable regulation and transparent oversight.

Suspending students for peaceful protest risks criminalising legitimate academic grievance. Universities must remain spaces of dialogue and accountability. The responsibility to secure statutory approvals lies entirely with the university. Students cannot be expected to audit compliance before enrolment. When institutional assurances fail, remediation, not retaliation, must follow.

This crisis remains reversible. Approvals can be expedited. Documentation can be released. Academic continuity can be protected. What cannot be justified is prolonged uncertainty combined with punitive silence.

For Kashmiri students, this is not just about one university. It reflects a broader pattern of vulnerability. Protecting their academic future strengthens trust in institutions. Neglecting it deepens alienation. Education must empower, not endanger. The suspended students are not agitators. They are aspiring healthcare professionals. In a country facing a shortage of trained nurses, jeopardising their futures is indefensible. Their demand is simple, recognise their course or secure their transition. Protect their investment. Safeguard their dignity. Young lives must never become collateral damage of regulatory failure.

The author is the head of the research and human rights department of Kashmir Institute of International Relations (KIIR). She can be contacted at the following email address: mehr_dua@yahoo.com, X @MHHRsays