Despite bans, abuse persists under the guise of discipline. This threatens children’s well-being. There is a need for accountability and child-friendly reforms in our educational institutions.
By Fatima Chand
In a chilling incident that has sent shockwaves through Srinagar, a 15-year-old girl at a prominent local school was reportedly beaten with a stick by a male staff member. Her “crime”? Accidentally trimming her eyelashes. Despite her pleas that it was a mistake, the punishment proceeded, highlighting a disturbing pattern of overreach that blurs the line between discipline and outright physical abuse.
This is not an isolated case but a symptom of a deeper malaise in some of our educational institutions, where corporal punishment is wielded as a tool of control, often under the guise of moral or religious enforcement. Kashmir’s schools, meant to be sanctuaries of learning and growth, are instead becoming arenas of fear for many students, particularly girls. Anonymous reports from this same school paint a grim picture: female students of all ages slapped across the face for minor infractions, chairs hurled at them for not wearing the hijab “properly,” and beatings meted out for subpar academic performance.
These acts go beyond correction; they constitute physical and emotional violence that scars young minds. In a region already grappling with the traumas of conflict, subjecting children to such brutality in places of education is unconscionable. It distorts their understanding of authority, religion, and self-worth, turning what should be voluntary practices—like modest dress—into sources of resentment and coercion.
What makes this even more troubling is the complicity of parents. Many remain silent, convinced that such harsh measures build character or instil discipline. This belief, rooted in outdated notions, ignores the mounting evidence of harm. Corporal punishment doesn’t foster resilience; it erodes mental health, leading to anxiety, depression, and even long-term behavioural issues. In Kashmir, where mental health resources are stretched thin, these practices exacerbate vulnerabilities. Worse, when violence is tied to religious observance, it risks alienating youth from their faith, breeding hypocrisy rather than genuine piety. If piety is enforced through pain, what message does that send about compassion and mercy—core tenets of Islam?
This isn’t just a moral failing; it’s a legal one. India banned corporal punishment in schools under the Right to Education (RTE) Act of 2009, which explicitly prohibits physical punishment and mental harassment. In Jammu and Kashmir, the School Education Department reinforced this with a blanket ban in 2023, citing its detrimental effects on children’s well-being. Yet, enforcement lags, as evidenced by recent incidents. Just this June, a Class 3 girl at a Srinagar private school was allegedly thrashed by teachers, requiring hospitalisation and prompting a government probe. Another case in April involved a second-grade boy in old Srinagar facing similar abuse. These are not anomalies but indicators that the ban exists more on paper than in practice.
The distinction between corporal punishment and physical abuse is often invoked to justify the former, but in reality, it’s a false dichotomy. Any intentional harm to a child crosses into abuse, violating their rights and dignity. International standards, including the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child—which India has ratified—demand an end to all forms of violence against children. Locally, the Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences in Kashmir (IMHANS-K) has documented how such punishments contribute to psychological distress, underscoring the need for trauma-informed alternatives like positive reinforcement and counselling.
Parents must break their silence. Believing violence “toughens” children is a myth perpetuated by generational trauma; studies show it often leads to aggression or withdrawal in adulthood. Instead, engage with schools, demand accountability, and advocate for child-friendly policies. Schools, too, bear responsibility: train teachers in non-violent discipline, integrate mental health support, and foster environments where mistakes are learning opportunities, not pretexts for punishment.
Authorities in Srinagar and Jammu and Kashmir cannot afford complacency. Strengthen monitoring, impose strict penalties on violators, and launch awareness campaigns to shift cultural attitudes. The government’s recent investigations into incidents are a start, but proactive measures—like mandatory reporting and independent audits—are essential.
Our children deserve better than to be instilled with fear or live in fear of the very institutions meant to nurture them. By ending corporal punishment, we safeguard not just their bodies and minds but the future of Kashmir itself—a future built on empathy, education, and true respect for human dignity. It’s time to act, before another child’s innocence is shattered by a stick or a slap.
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