Scroll through TikTok for long enough and you will inevitably find them: exhausted parents filming themselves after another difficult day, asking strangers for advice about teenagers who refuse to listen, children struggling with addiction or young people whose behaviour has spiralled beyond what families feel equipped to manage.
Some videos are humorous. Others are heartbreaking. Many end with the same refrain: “I’ve tried everything.”
That desperation has become part of modern parenting. It has also created fertile ground for an industry promising quick fixes.
The new upcoming documentary series Bad Behaviour examines what happens when families, convinced they have reached the end of the road, hand their children over to behavioural correction camps and rehabilitation facilities that promise discipline, transformation and a second chance. For some families, the decision changed their lives forever.
Produced by IdeaCandy for M-Net, the investigative series explores South Africa’s growing “troubled teen” industry, questioning the practices inside some of the facilities and the systems that allow them to continue operating with limited oversight.
For director Richard Gregory, the investigation quickly became about something much larger than misbehaving teenagers.
“I hope people are looking less at the behaviour of the children and more at parenting as a concept,” he says. “How do we parent effectively? How do we deal with children when they’re going off the rails? That’s the conversation we need to be having.”
That shift in perspective is important. Rather than portraying parents as villains, Bad Behaviour presents many of them as people caught between fear, exhaustion and hope.
The promise is seductive. Send your child away for a few weeks or months, trust experienced professionals and they will return disciplined, respectful and “fixed”.
But Gregory says the promise should immediately raise alarm bells. “There is no one-size-fits-all solution for kids,” he says. “It sounds obvious when you say it out loud but that’s exactly what many of these camps are promising.”
"There is no one-size-fits-all solution for kids," he says. "It sounds obvious when you say it out loud but that's exactly what many of these camps are promising."
Throughout the series, psychologists and medical professionals repeatedly challenge the notion that complex behavioural issues can be solved through a standardised programme. Every child arrives carrying different experiences, different trauma and different needs. Treating hundreds of young people as though they require identical intervention can do more harm than good.
For Gregory, that became one of the production team’s biggest takeaways after spending nearly a year researching, filming and editing the documentary.
“It was one of the biggest lessons for all of us,” he says. “The idea that you can put 300 children through the same system and expect the same outcome is incredibly dangerous.”
The investigation also exposed uncomfortable parallels in South Africa’s rehabilitation sector.
Gregory says he was struck by recurring reports of abuse emerging from facilities supposedly established to help vulnerable people.
“The idea that physical punishment or abuse is somehow going to correct the impulses that led someone into substance abuse or behavioural challenges is ludicrous,” he says. “In many cases, people leave these places more traumatised than when they arrived.”
The trauma sits at the centre of several case studies featured in the series.
Among them is the story of a mother who believed she was enrolling her son in a programme that would prepare him for a career as a game ranger.
Instead, Gregory says, the boy died after being subjected to horrific abuse.
Members of the public blamed his mother for making the decision to send her son there.
Gregory rejects the criticism.
“I have so much sympathy for the parents,” he says. “I’m a parent myself. Parenting is hard. Nobody ever said it was easy.”
He understands why families are drawn to promises of transformation, especially when they feel conventional support has failed.
“When someone offers what looks like a solution, it’s understandable that parents want to believe it will work.”
That empathy, however, exists alongside difficult questions.
Many parents, Gregory says, do not have access to reliable information about the facilities they are considering. Even when they want to conduct thorough research, finding verified information is often surprisingly difficult.
“There isn’t one central register where parents can easily see which camps are properly licensed or accredited,” he explains. “Doing your due diligence isn’t nearly as straightforward as it should be.”
That lack of transparency forms one of the strongest criticisms of the documentary.
South Africa has legislation governing rehabilitation centres and facilities working with minors. Requirements exist for registration, accreditation and professional oversight.
The problem, Gregory argues, is not necessarily the absence of laws.
“The enforcement and compliance monitoring is where things are really falling.”
During production, the filmmakers approached provincial departments responsible for oversight in Gauteng and the Northern Cape after uncovering allegations involving facilities featured in the documentary.
Gregory says they received little clarity about how compliance was being monitored or how closure orders were being enforced.
In several cases, he says, facilities instructed to shut down continued operating.
“It’s all very well having legislation on paper,” he says. “The question is whether it’s actually being enforced.”
The documentary also explores how social media has accelerated the growth of behavioural correction programmes.
If parenting advice once spread through community networks or family conversations, today’s discipline camps increasingly market themselves through viral videos.
Gregory points to a case study featured in the documentary where videos circulate online showing children, some younger than 10, being shouted at, forced through punishing physical exercises and visibly distressed.
The clips are often framed as examples of “tough love” or effective discipline.
As millions of users watch, comment and share, the camps gain visibility and credibility.
“The virality of social media is helping this industry spread very quickly,” Gregory says.
For parents searching online for answers, the carefully curated videos can appear convincing.
The documentary asks viewers to pause before accepting what the clips suggest.
“We need to go much deeper than what a social media video is showing us before parents make decisions.”
Importantly, Bad Behaviour avoids presenting every facility through the same lens.
Gregory is careful to acknowledge that not every family’s experience has been negative.
A family featured in the documentary speaks positively about sending two of their children to a behavioural programme, with both parents and children describing the experience as beneficial.
That nuance prevents the documentary from becoming a simple argument against camps altogether.
Instead, it raises more complicated questions about accountability, transparency and evidence.
What works for one child might be deeply harmful for another.
That complexity is perhaps the documentary’s greatest strength.
As more behavioural camps emerge across South Africa, Bad Behaviour asks whether the country is paying enough attention before another tragedy unfolds.
The documentary does not pretend parenting has easy answers.
Instead, it suggests that perhaps the most dangerous promise is the one claiming to have found one.
Bad Behaviour will air on M-Net Channel 101 on 25 August, with new episodes every Tuesday. Watch it live on DStv, DStv Stream or later via Catch Up.