Child Social Welfare Crisis Behind the Daycare Case

Daycare has long been positioned as a modern solution and saviour for working mothers to remain productive without abandoning their childcare roles. However, the violence case at Little Aresha daycare in Yogyakarta has instead unveiled a darker reality: a space trusted as safe can turn into a site of trauma for children. This is the tip of the iceberg phenomenon. Dozens of children have been reported as victims. This fact is not merely a number but a stark signal that Indonesia’s service-based childcare system is deeply flawed. This is no longer about “rogue elements” but a failure to prioritise child protection. Ironically, this occurs amid the grand narrative of development: women are encouraged to work, family economies must remain stable, yet the childcare support system is not built with equally robust standards. As a result, working mothers find themselves in a dilemma—economically productive but shadowed by anxiety over their children’s safety. Data from the Ministry of Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection (KemenPPPA) shows that many daycares still fail to meet standards, both in terms of licensing and caregiver competence. Although the government has mandated that daycares comply with “Child-Friendly Daycare” (TARA) standards under Ministry of PPPA Regulation Number 4 of 2024 on Child Rights Fulfilment Services. However, various sources report that as of April 2026, 44% of daycares are unlicensed, 30.7% have operational licences, and 20% lack Standard Operating Procedures (SOP). Minister of PPPA, Arifah Fauzi, has even emphasised that any form of violence against children is a serious violation that cannot be tolerated. This statement should not stop as a case response but serve as an alarm that our child protection system is not yet solid. From the Human Service Organisation (HSO) perspective (Hasenfeld, 2010), daycares should be human-centred institutions (prioritising relationships, empathy, and protection), yet what occurred at “Little Aresha” daycare appears to be the opposite: failed relationships, absent empathy, and collapsed protection. The HSO perspective also stresses that daycares are services highly dependent on the quality of the people within them. Thus, child safety is not determined solely by buildings or facilities but by who the caregivers are, how they are trained, and how closely they are supervised. When these aspects are neglected, goal displacement occurs—the service’s objectives shift from protection to mere operations, even pursuing profit. At the very least, this article highlights three important aspects related to the Little Aresha daycare case. First, the human resources (HR) crisis. According to HSO theory, HR is a key factor in realising good and trustworthy Child Social Welfare Institutions (LKSA). Various sources indicate that 66.7% of HR, both as managers and caregivers, are uncertified. Moreover, the recruitment process does not yet meet qualification and competence standards for child caregivers. Child caregivers are not just workers but substitute parents for children during their time at the institution. They must be able to provide a sense of security akin to what children feel at home (family). Here, the importance of caregiver competence is evident, including understanding child development, good communication with children, and more. So that when caregivers are fatigued from working under institutional pressure, children do not become targets of violence. Second, the institutional crisis. It turns out that in Indonesia, many daycares operate without clear standards and even without operating permits. The HSO perspective asserts this as a form of goal displacement. When the primary goal of protecting children shifts to merely running services or pursuing profit, children are no longer viewed as individuals to be protected but as lifeless work objects. Third, the supervision crisis. This is the gap that allows violence to persist. Supervision is often merely administrative (licences, documents, reports) but does not touch the reality inside daycares, in their caregiving spaces. There are no eyes truly watching what happens. Parents entrust fully but lack sufficient access to verify. This is where violence finds its space. Herein lies the real danger. Violence in daycares is often invisible. Children are not yet able to speak out, while parents fully entrust the childcare process. What emerges is what can be called “silent trauma”—wounds that are voiceless but leave scars. Psychologically, the impact is profound. Bowlby (1969) emphasised that secure attachment is the foundation of a child’s emotional development. When caregivers become sources of fear, that foundation crumbles. Shonkoff et al. (2012) also show that early childhood violence can trigger toxic stress, directly affecting brain development and social abilities. Thus, the negative impact of poor daycares does not end today—it can carry into adulthood. In the framework of social welfare, this is a serious failure. Midgley (1995) reminds us that welfare is not just about economics but also safety and quality of life. If children are unsafe in childcare spaces, what we face is not merely a service issue but a social welfare crisis itself. We must stop viewing daycare cases as incidents and start seeing them as symptoms. Symptoms of a system not yet ready to face social changes: when families change, but child protection is not strengthened accordingly. Therefore, solutions cannot be half-hearted. The state must step in through strict daycare standardisation, mandatory certification for HR as both managers and caregivers. And no less important, institutional supervision through