[...] the context of this discussion is how you get your kids to willingly fast and pray durning Ramadan. However, it's pretty clear that at least as far as Sasjamal is concerned, hitting the children is the preferred, the efficient, in fact it is the "proficient" method of instructing children.
No sir, please, I promise sir, I won't do it again. P-l-e-a-s-e sir."
His pleas made no difference. Our English teacher had a vise-like grip on the left wrist of that student. A few days before we had a brief English test. That student got 5 out of 10. Like everybody else, he had to get the signature of one of his parents. Which he did, after he had changed that "5" to an "8". Now, the student was fruitlessly attempting to avoid the customary thrashing.
The teacher held the wrist of the student with his left hand and with his right hit the student multiple times; on the head, the face, the neck, a few punches on the ribs. I sat in front of the class, a few feet away from the entire revolting episode.
The student was half-way between standing upright and on his knees. His voice muffled because of sobs, he again futilely begged, "P-p-please s-s-sir, I w-w-won't do it..."
DURING THE SUMMER OF 1995 in Lahore, Pakistan, my mom asked me to come with her to a nearby town as she was going to meet a tailor. My leg was aching but I agreed anyway. A few minutes later our car stopped in front of the tailor's house. My mom went in as I stood outside with our transport. It was a bright sunny day and not a single structure with more than two stories could be seen in that village.
Suddenly, a wailing noise broke the calm. It was coming from the street at my front-right. Soon, a child, who was at most five, emerged from there. He was crying his lungs out. Behind him, I guess, was his father. He was ferociously yelling at the kid. The weeping boy kept on walking as his dad approached him from behind. Then, he hit his kid on the back of the head with such revolting force that the frail boy practically leapt forward and landed on his face.
The crying stopped for a moment. The boy got up and started to weep and walk again. And again that man would menacingly catch up to him and sickeningly smack him with brutal power. It was not the first and likely not the last time that he had hit a kid. In public. No-one in the neighborhood stopped the brutal beating or even uttered a word of disapproval.
What the West faces:
Violence is utilized in countless Muslim-majority schools, not just the madrassas, to keep pupils "in line" and in most homes to restrain a "disobedient" wife or raise "honorable" children.
Non-Muslims have to ask themselves: When most of the umma treats their own offspring with such an abhorrent passion, then what is in store for those whom the Muslims hate?
Unsurprising note: Everyone who has ever hit me -- parents, siblings, teachers, relatives, bullies -- followed the Religion That Must Not Be Named.
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