We rant so easily in Goa these days. One side rants about law and order. Another rants about moral decay. We rant about schools — incompetent teachers, bullying students, deviant behaviour, online abuse, pepper spray on buses, stabbings, acid attacks that come from heartbreak and rage. It’s always the same question: “Why are our children going astray?” But when was the last time we paused to look at what’s happening inside our own homes? When did we admit that many of these so-called spoilt or violent or addicted children are actually neglected children? Children emotionally orphaned long before they ever broke a rule or picked up a phone. Parental alienation and neglect aren’t just psychology words for a seminar. They’re heartbreaks happening quietly in hundreds of homes across Goa. I’ve spent two decades working with children, adolescents, and young people — children living with HIV stigma, survivors of sexual abuse, online exploitation, and broken families. One truth has never changed: every child’s “bad” behaviour tells a story that often begins at home.
We’re good at everything except asking what matters. We shame the child, expel them from school, call the police, upload videos, and rant on Facebook. But we rarely stop to ask: What happened to this child before they started hurting themselves or others? I’ve seen teens bounce from one parent to another in bitter custody fights. Fathers who speak through threats. Mothers who use children as pawns, feeding them poison about the other parent. Grandparents watching helplessly as feuds turn children into collateral damage. Then there’s the quieter neglect — the kind that leaves no bruise but scars deeply. Parents so busy surviving or glued to distractions that they’re never truly present. Or they’re there in body but miles away in spirit. The child learns early: no one listens to me, no one cares if I cry. So they lie, keep secrets, drift online, or cling to people who pretend to care.
We love to blame phones. “They’re addicted! Always on reels!” But who pushed them there? A phone doesn’t yell. A phone listens when parents don’t. A phone gives likes when no one gives love. It fills the silence when the fighting starts. And when that phone opens the door to grooming, sextortion, or blackmail, we act shocked — but we shouldn’t be. Children are looking for connection. If they don’t find it at home, they’ll find it somewhere else — and often pay the price alone.
I’ve heard the same stories again and again. A boy who drinks to silence the yelling. A girl who stays with an abusive boyfriend because at least he says “I love you,” words she’s never heard from her father. A teen who bullies classmates because violence is the only language he’s seen work. A child who joins a gang because it’s the first time someone has their back. We see the end result — the fight, the suicide attempt, the leaked photos, the acid attack — and we rant about it. But we don’t see the drip-drip of neglect that led them there: years of silence, blame, and the slow death of trust.
This isn’t to blame parents cruelly — but to hold up a mirror. Parenting is hard. Bills pile up. Relationships crack. Phones distract us even when we’re home. But do we even try? Or have we convinced ourselves that a good school, a new phone, and a birthday cake are enough? If your child can’t come to you when they mess up, what does that say about your bond? If they’d rather share secrets with strangers online than sit beside you at dinner, what does that say about your home?
Here’s a truth Goa doesn’t want to face: you can fill schools with CCTV cameras, bus monitors, metal detectors, child protection policies, stricter laws. You can rant about moral values until your throat is dry. But unless we fix what’s broken inside our families — the silences, the fights, the blame — it will never be enough. Goa doesn’t need more discipline committees and hashtags. We need real Family Strengthening. We need systems that help families talk again, co-parent respectfully, resolve conflict without turning children into messengers of hate, and spot when a child is pulling away. We need parents to listen without judgement so children know home is safer than the streets or a stranger online.
We love to say, “It takes a village to raise a child.” But a child shouldn’t have to search the whole village for love. Home should be their first safe place. If you’re a leader, stop the rants — fund real family support. If you’re the Director of Education, add parenting and mental health workshops alongside your child protection policy. And if you’re a parent, stop asking why your child is misbehaving — ask what you might be ignoring at home.
This is not a rant. It’s a plea. It’s not too late to hold our children close before they drift further away — to show them that mistakes don’t make them unlovable, that our love doesn’t come with conditions, that no phone can replace presence. We can’t police or policy our way out of this. The only way forward is to stand up for our children — not just in schools and WhatsApp groups but inside our own living rooms, at the dinner table, on long walks, in bedtime talks. Goa doesn’t need stronger rants. It needs stronger families. And our children need us to remember that before the next tragedy makes us rant all over again.
(Peter F Borges is an Assistant Professor of Social Work at the D.D. Kosambi School of Social Sciences and Behavioural Studies, Goa University. He has served as the Chairperson of the Goa State Commission for Protection of Child Rights)
