For many Nigerians, the memory of being flogged as a child is almost too common to be unusual. For some, it was with a cane; for others, belts, slippers, or anything within reach. The idea was simple: discipline had to sting to be effective. The old saying, “spare the rod and spoil the child,” was often repeated to justify it.
Over time, those harsh lessons became part of childhood folklore, and as adults, many now joke about them, laughing at memories that should be painful and traumatic. But beneath the humour lies a practice that left lasting marks on the body and, more importantly, on the mind.
This culture of corporal punishment is not unique to Nigeria, but here it has been woven deeply into family life and schooling. The World Health Organisation, in a new report, is now warning that the price children pay for such treatment is far heavier than many realise. Rather than shaping better behaviour, it undermines development, damages well-being, and can even alter the brain in ways that carry consequences into adulthood.
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The numbers are stark. Globally, around 1.2 billion children under the age of 18 experience some form of corporal punishment at home every year. WHO examined data from 58 countries and found that 17 per cent of children who were punished in the past month had faced its harshest forms, such as being struck on the head, face, or ears, or being hit hard and repeatedly.
Schools, often seen as safe havens, are hardly better. In Africa and Central America, seven out of ten schoolchildren endure corporal punishment during their education. In other regions, such as the Western Pacific, the figure drops to about one in four, but even that is troubling. In Togo, self-reports showed that 77 per cent of children had been punished within a single month. In Sierra Leone, it was 64 per cent.
Etienne Krug, Director at WHO’s Department for Health Determinants, Promotion and Prevention, explained that research offers no evidence of benefits for children, parents, or society. What it does reveal are multiple risks.
Beyond bruises and injuries, punishment triggers biological responses that heighten stress hormones and interfere with healthy brain growth. If not stopped, these effects surface later as depression, anxiety, aggression, and sometimes a cycle where victims turn into enforcers of the same violence.
The report notes that some children are more vulnerable than others, those living with disabilities, those whose parents struggle with mental health issues or substance use, and children in societies already weighed down by poverty and discrimination. In places where families are under pressure, hitting often becomes the default, not because it works, but because it is the only tool parents believe they have.
For Nigerians, the findings feel familiar. Generations have been raised to think of beating as a normal part of growth, a way to “straighten” a child. Parents who once received lashes in school or at home see no reason not to lash out the same way at their children.
Add overcrowded classrooms, economic hardship, and lack of parental support, and corporal punishment thrives as the easiest, if harmful, solution. Experts caution, however, that the damage it leaves behind is rarely visible immediately.
Many adults walking around today, laughing at their memories of being caned, may in fact be carrying scars that shaped how they see authority, how they raise their own children, and how they deal with conflict.
WHO is clear that change will not come through laws alone. Legal bans are important, but they must be backed by public education, campaigns to shift cultural beliefs, and support programmes that give parents and teachers healthier alternatives to discipline. The call is for societies to replace fear with guidance, punishment with patience, and the cane with communication.
In Nigeria, the challenge is not only policy but culture. For real progress, there has to be a willingness to break away from long-held assumptions that pain equals respect. If that shift happens, future generations may not have to laugh off their childhood trauma as adults. They could instead remember homes and classrooms that corrected without violence, nurtured growth without fear, and allowed discipline to build, rather than break, their sense of self.
