When Children Return from School with No One to Talk To

The violence against two junior high school students in Sukawening, Garut, does not end when the physical assault stops. Because one of the perpetrators recorded the incident on a mobile phone, the video circulated on social media. The Garut Police subsequently interrogated seven students involved in the case. A significant concern has emerged: after experiencing violence, children may become afraid to return to school.

This case in Garut can be easily read as yet another story of bullying among students. We condemn the perpetrators, question school supervision, and hope that law enforcement provides a deterrent. All of this is important. However, from the perspective of child psychology, there is a quieter and perhaps more decisive question: after a child experiences bullying and is targeted by their peers, to whom do they dare tell what they have experienced?

This question brings the issue of bullying from the schoolyard into the family living room. The greatest danger is not merely when a child experiences violence, but when they experience violence and feel they must endure it alone. Although children today are highly connected via social media and WhatsApp groups, being connected to many people does not always mean having someone who is truly safe to talk to.

Results from the 2025 PISA released by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) on 8 September 2026 provide context for reflection. In Indonesia, 24 per cent of students reported experiencing at least one form of bullying several times a month or more. However, an equally important figure emerges from the relationship between children and their families.

The proportion of students stating that parents or guardians ask about their school activities at least once a week decreased from 57 per cent in 2022 to 48 per cent in 2025. Students stating they discuss school issues with their parents also dropped, from 48 per cent to only 36 per cent.

These figures do not necessarily mean Indonesian parents love their children less. Many fathers and mothers work hard precisely because they love their families. However, great affection does not automatically translate into psychological safety for the child. Parents may be at home and meet a child’s needs and care deeply for their future, but they may not necessarily be the first person a child seeks out when their world is collapsing.

In developmental psychology, a child needs an adult who can serve as a ‘safe haven’—a place to return to when facing threats, failure, shame, or fear. A child needs the simple assurance that when they say, “I have a problem,” the first response they receive is not judgement.

This need intersects with the concept of sakinah in Islamic tradition. While QS Ar-Rum verse 21 speaks directly to the relationship between partners regarding tranquility growing from mawaddah and rahmah, as a family ethic, sakinah should not be limited to a wedding slogan. A sakinah home is a home that provides peace; a space where family members are not afraid to be vulnerable.

Sakinah is not a silence born of a child’s fear to speak. Peace in a family is born when there is enough affection to accommodate anxiety, mistakes, and unpleasant stories. In psychological terms, this is emotional security: the feeling that one is still accepted and protected even when facing problems.

This is the paradox of today’s children. They may be the most connected generation in history. Chat groups are always active, social media never sleeps, and phones are almost always in hand. Yet, digital connectivity is not identical to emotional connectivity. A child can have hundreds of contacts and still not know whom to message when their heart is hurting.

Victims of bullying also do not always find it easy to speak up. There is shame in being perceived as weak, fear of being blamed, worry that the issue will escalate, or anxiety that access to their devices might be revoked. Sometimes, a child chooses silence not because their parents are absent, but because they can already predict the response: a lecture, interrogation, anger, or the sentence, “You must have done something wrong too.”

If such experiences repeat, a child learns one thing: silence feels safer than speaking.

Therefore, bullying prevention cannot be achieved solely through “stop bullying” posters, annual seminars, or punishments after violence has occurred. Schools must indeed have safe reporting mechanisms, sensitive teachers, protection for victims, and appropriate interventions for perpetrators. However, the family remains a vital psychological line of defence.

Parents can start with something simple: changing the questions. “What was your grade?” remains important, but it is not enough. Occasionally, we need to ask, “Was there anything that made you uncomfortable today?”, “Who was the most pleasant person to talk to at school?”, or “If there is a problem with a friend, do you feel safe telling Dad or Mum?”

More important than the question is the subsequent response. Listen before advising. Acknowledge the child’s feelings before searching for who is at fault. Do not rush to take over the entire problem, but do not trivialise it either. A child needs to know that home is not a courtroom.