Discipline and Discrimination in Township Schools

Graduating cum laude with a Master of Education degree, Ms Melicia Khasa has done more than just excel academically, she has sparked a conversation many would rather avoid.

Her dissertation, “Discipline and Punishment at the Nexus of Gender and Sexualities: The Voices of Learners from a South African Township Secondary School” is both a study and a call to action.

A former teacher turned scholar, Khasa spent six years in the classroom, where she saw first-hand the ways in which the lines between punishment and abuse were often blurred. What she witnessed didn’t just leave scars on the learners but haunted her own conscience as well.

‘Boys would receive severe beatings because they were expected to be tough. Queer-identifying learners were subjected to insults that cut deeper than any cane,’ she recalls.

What Khasa observed, however, was not discipline – it was discrimination, veiled in the guise of maintaining order. Gender norms and heteronormativity weren’t merely tolerated; they were weaponised against the most vulnerable.

‘Teachers would use homophobic slurs as part of their so-called discipline. Learners would say, “We’re used to it now.” That haunted me,’ she says.

In her research, Khasa exposes the brutal instruments of control still in use – pipes, tree branches, and sjamboks – objects that, despite being banned by law, remain unofficially circulated in some township classrooms. She found that these methods didn’t just cause physical pain; they instilled fear, reinforced oppressive control, and disproportionately targeted learners based on gender and sexuality.

While her research is grounded in a specific context, Khasa stresses that this issue is far broader. She argues it reflects a systemic culture across township schools that normalises harmful disciplinary practices.

‘Corporal punishment is illegal, but in many under-resourced schools, it’s the only form of control teachers feel they have left. It becomes normalised, even justified. But it teaches the wrong lessons: that might is right, that pain equals care, and that some children matter less,’ she explains.

Khasa’s study also uncovers how deeply gendered expectations fuel violence in the classroom. Boys are often seen as inherently disruptive, while girls are silenced through shame. Queer learners, meanwhile, are isolated, ridiculed and forced to hide their identities.

Despite the legal frameworks like the South African Schools Act and the Constitution – which outlaw corporal punishment and guarantee children’s rights – Khasa’s research reveals that these protections often fail in overcrowded, underfunded township schools where learners frequently trade safety for an education.

‘It’s not just a policy failure. It’s a human rights failure,’ she contends.

At the heart of her research is a sobering question: What happens when a place meant for learning becomes a place of fear? What does it mean when learners internalise that fear and accept it as normal?

Khasa’s research advocates for transformative approaches to discipline – ones that restore dignity and build community instead of reinforcing control through pain.

‘There is a need for a radical shift in teachers’ mindsets about discipline. Strategies that humiliate and cause pain must be stopped. There needs to be a restoration of dignity and personhood,’ Khasa says.

Khasa expressed her heartfelt thanks to her supervisor, Professor Ndumiso Daluxolo Ngidi for his unwavering guidance, and to her friends, family, and especially her mother for their support throughout this journey.

Words: Rakshika Sibran

Photograph: Sethu Dlamini