When Parents Become Customers and Schools Become Shops
By Jerry Adesewo
There was a time in Nigeria—one that many of us still remember vividly—when raising a child was a communal duty. Children belonged not only to their parents but to the neighbourhood. If you misbehaved in school, the teacher disciplined you. If you acted out on the street, any responsible adult corrected you instantly. And when you ran home hoping to find refuge in your parents’ arms, many of us met a second round of rebuke.
READ ALSO: VOADI Urges Celebrities to Follow Davido’s Example, Honors Him at Orphans’ Carnival 2025
It was never considered an abuse; it was considered an investment. The foundational belief was simple: a child may be born by two people, but it takes a community to raise that child.
Today, that value system has been shaken to its roots.
Across many private schools in Nigeria, especially in urban centres, the child is no longer seen through the lens of community upbringing. The teacher is no longer viewed as a custodian of knowledge and discipline. The parent is no longer a partner in child-rearing. Instead, we now have a marketplace dynamic: the parent as a client, the school as a business, and the teacher as a service provider whose job security depends on “customer satisfaction.”
And the first casualty of this new order is discipline.
The Fear That Has Silenced Teachers
Many teachers today are afraid—not of mishandling a child, but of offending a parent. Some schools quietly caution teachers: “Don’t raise your voice, don’t touch the child, the parent won’t like it.” They are told to manage indiscipline with a smile so that the school does not lose business. The result is predictable: children who know that no adult can call them to order, children who believe that their parents’ cheque book is a shield against consequence.
The circulating video of the Balogun’s invading Starville school in Jahi Abuja to assault a teacher who alledgedly slap their child is a case in study.
This is how a society gradually raises undisciplined citizens.
A small personal experience illustrates this. My eight years old daughter once returned from school complaining that her teacher had beaten her. Instead of exploding in anger, I asked her what she did. She insisted she did “nothing.” But like most parents should, I know my child. After a little coaxing, she finally admitted she had been making noise. It was a minor issue, but a telling one. I could have stormed the school, threatened the teacher, or demanded her punishment—like many parents now routinely do. But to what end? What lesson does that teach the child?
That misbehaviour carries no consequence?
That teachers exist only to pamper?
That discipline is negotiable where money is involved?
Children observe the behaviour of adults far more than they listen to our lectures.
The Balogun Incident and the Decline of Communal Values
The recent viral incident involving the Balogun family is one of the most troubling examples of this growing crisis. Here were parents who physically assaulted a teacher for daring to discipline their child. What is even more painful—these are Yoruba parents, people from a culture that traditionally upholds communal responsibility in child upbringing.
The tragedy is layered. The child who was corrected is theirs. The teacher they attacked also belongs to another family. If the teacher’s parents had responded with equal aggression, where would it end? In a spiral of unrestrained violence, all because we can no longer agree on who has the right to correct a child?
This incident is not just an isolated conflict. It represents a deep erosion of the values that once held our communities together. We are witnessing a generation of parents who demand respect for their children but refuse to teach their children respect for others.
Schools Are Not Innocent
Parents alone cannot be blamed. Many private schools have actively helped create this culture of entitlement. In their desperate bid to retain paying clients, they have weakened discipline policies and thrown teachers under the bus. A teacher who corrects a stubborn child today risks suspension, termination, or public shaming—all because the school fears losing a customer.
But education without discipline is hollow. A school where teachers cannot draw boundaries is not a school; it is a daycare with colourful uniforms.
Schools must rediscover their backbone. They must understand that they are shaping citizens, not entertaining customers. And parents must also remember that raising a child is more than paying fees; it is partnering with the adults who spend eight hours daily moulding that child’s character.
Where Do We Go From Here?
Nigeria must reclaim the moral foundations that once tethered our communities. No one is advocating for a return to the era of brutal corporal punishment. But we must find a balanced approach that allows teachers to enforce reasonable discipline, backed by clear school policies and responsible parental support.
We must teach our children that actions have consequences. That respect is reciprocal. That no one, not even a child, is above correction.
If we continue down this path where teachers are silenced, parents are aggressive, and children are shielded from responsibility, we will raise a generation that is academically gifted but morally adrift. A generation that excels in exams but fails in empathy, resilience, and civic sense. A generation that may know mathematics but does not know manners.
A Call Back to Collective Responsibility
The Balogun case should not merely trend on social media; it should spark national introspection. It should force us to re-evaluate how we raise our children, how we treat our teachers, and what kind of society we hope to build.
Because if the community stops raising the child, the community will eventually suffer the adult that child becomes.