Bad to upset the applecart

BOYS as young as 16 were involved in the murder of their former schoolmate, T. Nhaveen, who, according to news reports, was bullied from the age of 15. The bullying had gone on for two or three years.

Where were the school counsellors all that time? Usually, problem students are brought to them. If a boy started bullying from 15, something is wrong with his background, and he could be made to understand that and mend his ways.

I am a retired teacher with 25 years’ experience in various secondary schools. I have also been a school counsellor.

I usually allot five to 10 minutes at the end of a double or triple period to meet with students and talk to them outside the classroom or along the corridor. All were Malays but race was no problem between us.

Thus, I heard how one boy longed for his mother to talk to him other than to say, “Makan lah!”

I spotted him because his gentle behaviour became erratic (often, he would dance in front of the class while the lesson was going on). His father lived in another town. “Ask your mother to talk to you,” I advised. He said he was afraid. Not long after, he was sent to a correctional facility for raping a classmate under the influence of glue and watching porn movies. He was 14.

I usually shared my experiences of dealing with abused women or underaged runaway girls with my class. One day, a girl came to me and said, “Teacher said that we should tell someone when abuse begins.”

I was not a counsellor then but the girl was certain that the teacher-counsellor would spread her secret among the staff, as she was wont to do. The 14-year-old went on to talk about how a 50-year-old male teacher took her co-ed class to the library and told the students to sit in the same place and not to move, and took her to a corner and molested her. He did not heed her pleas to stop.

I reported this to the higher-ups in school but nothing happened. Then I took part in a talk show on TV. The topic was sexual abuse.

I was interrogated by various officials from the education department several times after that, as though I was the guilty party. And I was transferred out!

In the next school, the discipline master confessed to me that he had no idea how to deal with Indian boys and suspended them from school frequently for minor offences. When I told him it was unfair, he began to send problem students to me for counselling.

There was a fight between boys from our school and another. The reason? One boy was talking to a girl and the “enemy” asked mockingly, “Your girlfriend?”

A verbal fight ensued, and they agreed to bring their friends for an actual fist fight.

“You fought over that!” I asked in surprise.

“No reason is too small to start a fight. Even an accidental knock on the shoulder is sufficient!” one explained proudly.

I decided to put some sense into them: “Tamil film heroes may impress you with their fighting skills (which, incidentally, are done by stunt actors). The actors get a six or seven figure remuneration for that. But you will not only get a bad name in school, your future will also be affected.”

I went on and on, in Tamil, about violence breeding violence and how their behaviour would affect their trusting parents. There were no more complaints about them from that day onwards.

Someone who is bullied or unfairly punished becomes subdued or angry. Didn’t any teacher observe any change in Nhaveen?

If the bullying had been stopped at the onset, a murder could have been averted and young men who needed to go to a correctional facility instead of prison would still have a promising future.

But then who can blame the teachers (assuming they knew what was going on) for not doing anything about the bullying?

Why deal with the unpleasantness of transfers or the denial of possible promotions for spoiling the reputation of the school and its authorities? It was best not to ruffle feathers.

NIRMALA RAGHAVAN Sungai Buloh