When a pregnant pupil is pushed out of school, the message sent is that education is conditional, and that mistakes, trauma, coercion, abuse, or difficult circumstances can permanently derail a child’s future, says the writer.
Image: SIGCINIWE
THE debate around draft regulations dealing with pregnant pupils has once again exposed a deep tension within our education system: how do we protect a child’s right to education while ensuring schools are not expected to carry responsibilities they were never designed or resourced to manage?
At the heart of this issue is a fundamental truth: pregnancy should never be used as a reason to exclude a girl from education. Denying a pregnant pupil access to school not only violates her constitutional rights, but often compounds cycles of poverty, stigma, interrupted education, and long-term vulnerability.
When a pregnant pupil is pushed out of school, the message sent is that education is conditional, and that mistakes, trauma, coercion, abuse, or difficult circumstances can permanently derail a child’s future.
Many pregnancies involving schoolgirls are not the result of informed adult choices. Some arise from exploitation, coercion, abuse, transactional sex, statutory rape, poverty, or a lack of access to reproductive health education and services. In these cases, punishing the pupil by removing her from school effectively penalises the victim rather than addressing the circumstances that led to the pregnancy.
However, while protecting access to education is non-negotiable, another reality must also be acknowledged: schools cannot become substitute parents, healthcare providers, social workers, counsellors, and child protection agencies without significant support. This is where many school governing body forums are raising legitimate concerns.
The draft regulations appear to place substantial responsibility on schools to support pregnant pupils, while parents or guardians seem less explicitly accountable for their child’s educational continuity, emotional well-being, and care arrangements. This imbalance risks placing already overstretched principals, teachers and governing bodies under impossible pressure.
Teachers are trained to educate. They are not midwives, trauma counsellors, social workers, or crisis managers. Yet in many South African schools, teachers are increasingly expected to respond to hunger, abuse, neglect, violence, mental health crises, and now complex pregnancy-related support needs, often with no additional staff, training or resources.
This is not sustainable.
When responsibilities are poorly defined, teachers may find themselves managing medical emergencies, absenteeism linked to antenatal appointments, emotional distress, bullying, safety concerns, or childcare-related disruptions after birth. In under-resourced schools where classrooms are overcrowded, and staff are already exhausted, this can negatively affect both the pregnant pupil and the broader learner body.
We must also be honest about the emotional and developmental realities involved. A pregnant pupil is still a child in many cases. She may be frightened, ashamed, traumatised, or physically unwell. She may require counselling, healthcare referrals, protection from stigma, and practical planning for the future. These are specialist interventions. Expecting a life orientation teacher or principal to carry that burden without multidisciplinary support, is unfair and potentially harmful.
Similarly, other pupils deserve uninterrupted learning environments, emotional safety, and teachers who are able to focus on education rather than constant crisis management.
So what is the solution?
First, pregnant pupils must remain in school unless there is a medical reason requiring temporary absence certified by healthcare professionals. Education systems should be flexible enough to allow catch-up plans, remote learning support where possible, adjusted attendance during medical appointments, and re-entry support after childbirth.
Second, parental responsibility must be explicitly strengthened in any regulations. Parents or guardians should be required to actively participate in educational planning, healthcare co-ordination, attendance support, transport arrangements, and childcare planning once the baby is born. Schools should not be left to carry these responsibilities alone.
Third, departments of education cannot issue regulations without attaching resources. If schools are expected to support pregnant pupils, then schools need access to social workers, school psychologists, nurses, referral pathways, and clear emergency protocols. Policy without implementation support simply shifts liability on to schools.
Fourth, there must be accountability for the circumstances leading to pupil pregnancies. Where the father is an adult, immediate child protection and criminal justice processes should be triggered. Too often society focuses on the pregnant girl while ignoring the male responsible, especially where exploitation or abuse is involved. That silence perpetuates harm.
Fifth, stigma must be actively challenged. Pregnant pupils are often subjected to gossip, humiliation, moral judgement, or isolation by peers and adults. Shame does not prevent pregnancy. It prevents help-seeking, honesty, and continuity in education. A rights-based approach must be paired with compassion and dignity.
We must also invest more seriously in prevention. Comprehensive sexuality education, consent education, access to reproductive health care, mentorship programmes, and community-based protection systems are essential. If we only debate what happens after pregnancy, we are failing children before the crisis begins.
There is a dangerous tendency in policy debates to frame this as a choice between protecting pregnant pupils or protecting schools. That is a false choice. We can and must do both.
Protecting a pregnant pupil’s right to education is essential. But protecting that right should not mean transferring parental duties and systemic failures on to teachers already carrying impossible loads. Schools are one pillar of a child’s support system, not the entire structure.
A child who becomes pregnant needs education, health care, family support, emotional care, and where necessary, protection from abuse. No single institution can provide all of that in isolation.
If these regulations are to succeed, they must move beyond symbolic rights language and build a practical, shared-responsibility framework involving families, education departments, health services, social development, and justice systems.
Pregnancy in adolescence is not simply an education matter. It is a child protection matter, a public health matter, a social development matter, and a community matter.
When we ask schools to solve it alone, everyone loses.
When we build systems around the child, everyone benefits.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.