Silent Childhood: The Digital Upbringing of Brunei’s Youngest

With one-fifth of the population now exposed to early screen dependency, concerns grow over the nation’s future generation.

By Malai Hassan Othman | KopiTalk with MHO

Bandar Seri Begawan — Today, a subtle but significant shift is happening in how young kids in Brunei are growing up. It's not about loud announcements or big events; instead, it’s in the everyday little moments that often go unnoticed. A toddler gets fussy in a shopping cart, and a phone appears almost immediately. A three-year-old is restless at a family gathering, and a tablet is handed to them just like a bottle used to be. Sometimes, these moments seem harmless, even necessary. But when you look at the bigger picture across thousands of homes, it adds up to one of the biggest changes of our time.

What makes this trend even more important is the fact that nearly 100,000 kids in Brunei -about 20% of the population - are 14 and under. That means one in five Bruneians is still in childhood, growing up in a world that’s totally different from what their parents and grandparents knew. 

Their first memories are digital. They calm down with screens. Their imaginations, once sparked by stories and playing outside, are now shaped by quick clips and flashy content designed to grab their attention. This is a generation whose habits and emotional skills will impact Brunei long after today’s adults have retired.

Around the world, governments are starting to recognise the scale of change and the risks that come with it. Malaysia’s recent move to ban social media accounts for anyone under 16 starting in 2026 is a clear sign that something’s gone wrong in how kids are raised with digital tech. This wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction; it reflects years of growing concern from parents, teachers, psychologists, and child safety groups.

Malaysian officials found that kids were facing harmful online exposure at younger ages. Reports of cyberbullying, online grooming, and kids being urged to share personal info were becoming alarming. Some cases even involved children just starting primary school. Teachers reported that students were having a hard time focusing, getting easily frustrated, or showing sudden behaviour changes after spending too much time on Instagram, TikTok, and gaming platforms. Health experts warned that too much screen time was causing sleep issues, anxiety, mood swings, and making it harder for kids to handle real-life stress.

By the time Malaysia took action, the evidence was clear. Parents felt overwhelmed trying to keep tabs on their kids’ online habits. Digital platforms were changing faster than families could adapt. For many households, especially those with two working parents, devices became the easiest way to keep a child entertained. The Malaysian government realized that families were losing control, and intervention was necessary not because society had failed, but because the tools kids were using had become too powerful and poorly regulated.

A similar situation played out in Australia, with its own twists. Educators and mental health pros noticed more behavioural issues among young students. Some kids, still under ten, withdrew from social activities, had trouble making eye contact, threw emotional fits when their devices were taken away, or couldn’t concentrate for more than a few minutes. Parents said their kids seemed “always switched on,” needing constant stimulation and getting frustrated at the slightest boredom.

Australia’s public discussion took a serious turn after the tragic cases of teenagers who died after engaging with harmful content recommended by social media. Some coroners linked their deaths to material found on platforms not meant for minors. This shook the nation. What used to be seen as a personal issue became recognised as a systemic failure.

Australia started national inquiries into how social media affects childhood development. Investigators found that minors were widely exposed to inappropriate content, violent videos, and harmful online communities. These findings pushed Australia to rethink whether the minimum age of 13 - set so loosely by global platforms - was really right for kids today. Policymakers decided that just restrictions wouldn’t cut it; a higher minimum age, along with age verification, was needed as a starting point.

If Malaysia and Australia reached these conclusions after seeing harm in large populations, what does that mean for a smaller nation like Brunei, where the margin for error is even slimmer? 

Brunei hasn’t faced social issues on the same scale as bigger countries, but that also means that any widespread behaviour change can hit harder. With a smaller population, every child’s experience matters a lot.

For over a decade, Brunei has been working to protect kids online. The Child Online Protection Framework, introduced in 2013, made Brunei one of the first in the region to recognise online risks. 

The National Framework on Child Protection, launched around 2020, aimed to bring government agencies together to help vulnerable children. The Children Protection Register recorded over 250 cases where kids were flagged for needing protection - some due to domestic issues, some due to neglect, and increasingly, some due to online safety worries.

His Majesty has often warned about the dangers of social media, the spread of harmful content, and the risks to young people’s mental and moral growth. Senior officials have pointed out the rise of cyberbullying, digital addiction, and emotional pressures from digital exposure. Schools are starting to teach digital literacy, though it’s not consistent across the board.

Despite these efforts, the reality in Bruneian homes tells a different, more concerning story. Many parents say they don’t know what safe screen time looks like or how early exposure affects a toddler's brain. Some turn to YouTube, TikTok, or kids’ gaming apps because they feel they have no other options while balancing work and caregiving. Others think screen time is just part of modern childhood, not realising that the platforms their kids are on are designed to keep them engaged, no matter their age.

Teachers are noticing clear trends. They report that more kids start school unable to focus for long. Some get frustrated when they can’t get what they want right away. Others have trouble making friends or dealing with conflicts without getting upset. A few show speech delays linked to too much screen time during early development. These observations, while not yet collected as national data, line up with findings from other countries.

Pediatric psychologists worldwide warn that when kids learn to soothe themselves with screens, they might struggle to develop self-regulation - a key emotional skill that helps build resilience, patience, and the ability to handle challenges later in life. They become reliant on external stimulation instead of learning to manage their emotions through real connections. Screens then become not just entertainment, but an emotional crutch.

This growing dependency creates a cycle. The more a kid leans on screens to feel better, the less capable they become of handling frustration or boredom without them. And the harder they are to manage without screens, the more parents turn to them to keep the peace at home. In many families, it’s not neglect but exhaustion that leads to screens becoming the go-to for parent-child interactions.

All of this is happening without much public conversation. Unlike health or infrastructure issues, the topic of digital childhood rarely gets talked about openly, even though it shapes the mental and emotional foundation of a whole generation. There are no national guidelines for parents on when a child is ready for social media, how much screen time is too much, or how to spot early signs of digital dependency. There’s no widespread campaign to help parents understand what’s going on in the minds of young kids when they spend long hours on screens.

So, Brunei’s families are quietly navigating this new digital world, often on their own. Parents make choices based on convenience, instinct, or habit, without fully grasping the long-term effects. Schools do what they can, but they can’t replace the foundational learning that happens - or doesn’t happen - at home.

For now, the country watches this change happen quietly in its homes. There’s no visible crisis, no public outcry, no heated debates in coffee shops. Screens keep the kids calm, and calm looks harmless. But underneath that calm, a generation is learning to manage their emotions through devices before they learn to do it through people. It’s a change that’s too subtle to make noise, yet too important to ignore.

Brunei has always taken pride in its children as the future. That future now sits in strollers with phones glowing inches from their faces. It’s in classrooms where teachers see attention waning faster than ever. It’s in living rooms where digital distractions replace family chats. None of this makes the news, but it’s happening every single day.

The question isn’t whether parents love their kids — they do. The question is whether society has underestimated how quickly technology can slip into the spaces where good parenting used to thrive. (MHO/11/2025)