Datuk Seri Nazir Ariff and the Children’s Protection Society committee set up a KL chapter to spread awareness of child safety

Last September, news of the horrific GISB Holdings case — involving the discovery and rescue of 402 children who had been physically, psychologically and sexually abused across 20 welfare homes — shocked the nation. Outrage and heartbreak gripped the public as we all asked the same question: How could this have been allowed to happen?

The feeling was not unfamiliar. Just five months earlier, Rumah Bonda founder Siti Bainun Ahd Razali made similar waves, when she was charged with abusing Bella, a 13-year-old with Down syndrome, and sentenced to 12 years in prison. In fact, more than 46,000 cases of child sexual abuse have been recorded in Malaysia over the past 10 years. The exploitation of those who represent our nation’s future has been tragically brushed aside far too often, only coming into the open when a truly repulsive headline surfaces. But for Datuk Seri Nazir Ariff, founder and president of the Children’s Protection Society (CPS) in Penang, ensuring the well-being of each and every child is an unshakeable priority.

“This is a national crisis, and we must respond as such. The time for change is now. No child in Malaysia, no child in the world, should ever have to endure what these children have lived through,” emphasised Nazir in his statement responding to the GISB incident.

As the 78-year-old sits down for the interview, he greets us with a friendly wave and a cheery smile, exuding a deeply caring and empathetic nature that becomes all the more evident as he speaks with unparalleled emotion on how to support and uplift victims of neglect.

Nazir, alongside chairman Tengku Asra Jehan, his daughter vice chairman Nawiza Ariff and project director Tengku Yasmin Nastasha, are setting their sights on expanding the organisation to Kuala Lumpur, and bringing it to a countrywide level.

Early years

During the 1980s in Penang, the booming development of multiple industries lured more women to work in factories to support their families. Consequently, children had to be left home alone.

“By the late 1980s, I was hearing about a number of children being neglected,” recalls Nazir. “One of my maids had problems because she couldn’t bring her two children to work. She left them with her mother, who was disabled, and had to rely on donations, help and food from the neighbours. I remember thinking, what can we do for kids in this situation?”

He approached several orphanages, hoping to find a place where the youngsters could be accommodated, but was turned away as they were not orphans. Nazir resolved to take matters into his own hands and start his own organisation.

“I got a few friends who were doctors … and within a few months, we formed [CPS] and registered it. We used our own money and began looking at neglected children.”

CPS was officially launched in April 1992 and began accepting young neglected or abandoned individuals into a safe space where they could receive emotional and educational support, with the goal of eventually returning them to their parents once their home situations had improved.

“Originally, it was meant to be a temporary thing. Some of the children stayed with us [for longer], so we put them in schools. We treated them just like our own.”

These children oftentimes came from single-parent households, either resulting from divorce or the death of a parent.

Amid these already challenging instances of youth at risk, an even more gruesome reality had yet to truly rear its ugly head and stare the public in the face.

“Back then, there were not many [flagged] cases of abuse, and we never thought they involved children,” Nazir elaborates.

For context, the Suspected Child Abuse and Neglect Team reported 766 incidents between 1985 and 1991. In comparison, the Jabatan Kebajikan Masyarakat recorded 6,709 cases from 2023 to August 2024.

“As time went by … there were increasing incidents of neglect, abandonment and abuse. We only realised it when the children came to us and shared how their fathers or uncles had mistreated them sexually. It really shocked us, and we had to deal with it.”

CPS provides immediate help to those who enter its care through its shelter, which caters primarily to those aged five to 18, ensuring they are able to live in a supportive environment. It also focuses on the child’s long-term physical and mental development, as well as the enhancement of social and recreational skills.

Though any number of circumstances may lead children to the home, Nazir fervently insists love is invaluable to return them to normalcy.

“We have to get them to trust us, therefore we have to give them love. When they are a bit more comfortable, we bring social welfare people from within our organisation to talk to them, to let them know they are human beings who matter. Those who would like to stay with us longer, or have nowhere to go, we put in schools and give them tuition. Everything is covered. We’ve got a nice house now, with one acre of grounds. The kids cycle around, they play on the badminton courts. [We want to] make them feel like they are regular children again. We hope that, after we have given them confidence and kindness, they can go back to their parents.”

Staff conduct home visits to better understand a child’s background and needs. CPS takes careful measures to guarantee those in its system are equipped with solid future prospects and long-term stability once they leave. “Before a child returns, our social welfare staff would have a look at the house and assess whether the home situation has changed. After the child goes back, we check in every week to make sure they are comfortable and happy. If not, we take them back. Everything is monitored.”

When the sensitive issue of abuse is factored in, CPS must involve the government to properly handle the complex matter. Over the past 33 years, approximately 3,500 children have gone through its system, with many success stories of wards growing up attaining good qualifications and jobs — often returning to help out CPS as adults.

The group works with many other organisations, including Infogenius Penang, Montfort Boys Town and the Young Women’s Christian Association KL, to provide training to teenagers, while consistently uplifting its current and ex-residents via guidance for university and employment opportunities.

 

 

Causes for concern

How many times have we seen a reluctant child being pressured into shaking hands, giving hugs or sitting on the laps of grown-ups? How many of us remember going through it first-hand? In our society especially, it is considered out of place for a child to say no to an adult — genuine discomfort is brushed off as infantile fussiness. A lack of agency breeds a lack of boundaries, and children become ill-equipped to identify or verbalise abusive experiences. This is one of the many reasons the country is faced with an increasingly rampant epidemic of abuse where minors are the primary victims.

“Normally, 80% of abusers are known to their victims. They are relatives who say, ‘Come and sit on my lap’, who keep touching or holding the child,” states Nazir.

The committee at CPS notes how even when other members of the household are aware of incidents, perpetrators are rarely reported due to the stigma of shame and compulsion to guard one’s family unit from external intervention. Asra recounts how her former masseuse of 10 years knew her granddaughter had been abused by her son-in-law, but vehemently refused to take the matter to the police.

Inattentiveness is another key reason behind the vulnerability of children. Nazir laments: “I really am confused sometimes about the local culture here — children don’t seem important. A long time ago, kids must only be seen and not heard. When there is dinner at home, the parents would get to eat first, and the children only after they are done. ‘Anak budak, go away’, ‘anak budak, nanti’, you know? It’s better nowadays, but it’s still there. Until we change that culture, the country will never change.”

He observes the disconcerting rise of bare-minimum parenting: kids receive fundamental provisions of food and shelter, but their emotional needs are completely ignored. “That’s not really bringing up a child. They need affection, confidence and comfort. Without these, they become very insecure. There are a lot of predators around who are looking for such children. They’ll say, ‘Mak cik or pak cik will help you’, ‘Come to my house’ — it all starts like that. That sort of thing is happening every day, especially in urban areas. In any complex, especially low-cost housing with large populations, you will see children wandering about because they’ve got nobody to look after them, and their parents have to work to survive. Kids are just looking for a kind person to give them a bit of attention. It’s very frightening, very pitiful, but it’s real. Predators are all over the place, watching and approaching these children.”

The leaders at CPS also point out the absence of sexual education or conversations about safety between families, which inadvertently perpetuates cycles of harm. Individuals are now able to access the internet at earlier ages, but easily impressionable youth are not taught how to navigate the digital world, and end up learning inappropriate behaviours or, even more dangerously, accessing the dark web. Paedophiles are becoming increasingly adept at using social media to lure and exploit minors.

Yasmin, an ardent human rights lawyer, says, “So many crimes are being carried out online. Before, my parents would tell me, ‘Don’t talk to strangers’. Now you can talk to strangers without even leaving the house.”

From a legal standpoint, she adds there are several hurdles that make the prosecution of abusers challenging. “We are signatories to the UN Conventions, namely the Convention on the Elimination of
All Forms of Discrimination against Women. We also have the Child Act 2001 and Sexual Offences Against Children Act 2017. They are all there; they’re just not enforced. People are not reporting.” Furthermore, while the government keeps a list of those with prior history of sexual crimes, there is no obligation for offenders to disclose their status to employers. Both Nazir and Asra think that as their operations grow, it becomes all the more critical to vet their staff and volunteers.

Though several heinous cases have come to light in recent years, the reactions from prominent figures, government authorities as well as the general public have sadly fallen short of influencing any large-scale, long-term systemic changes.

“The GISB issue, until now, is still floating [around]. There’s still not really a charge, things are moving very slowly. The public gets excited, but it’s all hangat-hangat tahi ayam [doing something half-heartedly], you know. After a few weeks, everything is old news. There’s no commitment. Charity must come from the heart. Giving money is one thing; getting involved is another. We are here to stay, to help, and we are always looking out. I wish the government would give the authorities more muscle when it comes to their investigations. Do not settle for what is happening now. It’s not about the adults, we have to work and look after the children, because they are the future,” presses Nazir.

Apart from monetary support, those interested in helping the cause are encouraged to volunteer services and assist around CPS’ grounds.

“Come see us! You can always drop by, our doors are open. There are people who approach us and offer to get our house painted or our fence redone. So come and see where we need help. I encourage people who want to make a difference to chat with us. Don’t just stand back and look from afar. ”

The leading ladies

Sitting down at Nawiza’s dining table, chattering among themselves as the mouth-watering aroma of kuih wafts from the nearby kitchen, the women heading CPS paint an image of lifelong friends. Little would one know it was only around September last year that they formally banded together to lead the KL chapter, which properly put down roots in December.

One of countless Malaysians who were horrified by the GISB scandal, Asra reached out to Nawiza’s brother, Nizam Ariff (her collegemate), to connect with their father. “[Nizam] was forwarding many of Datuk Seri’s press statements on the matter to me. I said, ‘I want to see your father and chat with him.’ We had an emergency meeting, and [Nazir] said, ‘Tengku, I want you to take charge of the KL chapter and spread awareness.’ We felt we couldn’t just sit and keep quiet, so he asked Nawiza and I to set up the KL chapter and start our media campaigns and programmes for this year,” explains Asra.

Nawiza was a necessary and obvious addition to the team as her experience working for CPS when she was a fresh graduate ensured the new chapter had a guiding figure familiar with CPS’ core values and methods.

“I’ve been attached to [the organisation] for the longest time,” she comments. “I know the ins and outs of how it works, so my role here is to support the KL committee and agenda. In Penang, we house children, but here we are going to focus on awareness — programmes to teach children about safe and unsafe touches, seminars for educators, parents and caretakers on how to identify children who have been abused and how to pass on these messages to others.”

To better connect with children and parents, someone with a finger on the pulse of modern technology, social media and youth culture was imperative for the new team. And, Asra had just the person in mind.

Recognised from her and her mother Nik Elin Zurina’s petition against the Kelantan government’s shariah criminal enactment, 29-year-old Yasmin grew up outspoken and fiercely passionate about child protection. “Since I was young, my mum has brought me along to her charity organisations. It’s why I’ve always been involved with social work. I’ve been exposed to human and child rights, and as a lawyer I had to do duties at court. There were cases that came in under the Child Act, those where parents neglected their children or abused them.”

The need for a committee with members of varying backgrounds and talents was essential as CPS’ expansion into the capital would take on a different approach from its northern sister’s, focusing mainly on education, spreading social consciousness as well as empowering the public to confidently report abusers. The first step in this agenda is arguably the toughest — breaking sociocultural taboos, which the women note are deeply entrenched in many Asian communities. There is an intense sense of shame surrounding topics like divorce and sex education, and where there is a shortage of discourse, misinformation and ignorance swiftly follow. This makes it harder for victims, especially easily influenced youth, to identify predatory behaviour and speak up for themselves in dangerous situations.

“CPS KL is about getting over this taboo of discussing sex, sexual education, crime prevention, dealing with abusive family members and so on. We want to be the voice and get over this boundary. It’s about time — it’s 2025, and that has to go,” emphasises Asra. “There’s so much more we need to educate [the public] about and we need to cross this invisible barrier no one discusses. In Asia, there is so much fear about disappointing your parents or family. It’s very shame-based. Parents say things like, ‘Oh, you want to leave your husband? You’re shaming me’. How do victims escape their situations like this?”

When a victim’s own blood chooses to turn a blind eye or, worse, is actually the perpetrator, many feel cornered into tolerating mistreatment and allow it to be swept under the rug, especially when there are young children involved. Even when one builds up the courage to leave an abusive relationship, or file a police report, few know where to start, making the prominence and accessibility of organisations like CPS all the more vital.

“We want to spread the word that we can help with child abuse cases,” Yasmin notes. “There’s a lack of awareness about where you can go for support.”

Doing the good work

On Jan 19, CPS held its very first seminar in Penang titled “Please, Respect My Boundaries” in collaboration with Soroptimist Penang and Makchic, an organisation that produced a book titled What If?, or Bayangkanlah in Malay, that teaches children about respecting physical boundaries. Member of Parliament for Bukit Bendera Syerleena Abdul Rashid launched the seminar with an impactful speech, while police officers, including senior assistant commissioner Siti Kamsiah Hassan, came for an hour to talk to civilians. Most notably, the event welcomed the B40 community (who are statistically more susceptible to abuse), inviting adults and children alike to hear from the authorities and seek support.

“On the second day, we opened it up to the public — three sessions of over 30 pax each,” says Nawiza, adding that the actual number of people who wanted to attend had to be cut due to limited space. These 75-minute-long workshops included using hula hoops to illustrate personal boundaries and in-depth presentations for parents and guardians.

“The Makchic organisation came and showed slides teaching attendees how to identify if a child is being abused, how to relay this message to the child, how you should talk to your child every day to ask how their day is going.”

Late last year, the KL operations kicked off with a bang following a series of projects with Astro. The first was an interview with Yasmin that aired on the Awani channel, accompanied by another featuring Nawiza and Asra on Awani Pagi. For Children’s Day, a special public service announcement took over TV screens and the group was an official collaborator for the entertainment company’s massive “Home of Kids” fair at IOI Convention Centre that was attended by around 30,000 people.

“We had a booth and there were children coming and they were great! We gave them a diagram of the body and asked them to point out where people are not allowed to touch them, and almost all the kids got it right. There were mothers dropping by and taking photos and videos of the activity, maybe to replicate at home,” Asra recalls.

The group conducted storytelling sessions and taught visitors about safe and unsafe touches. “We go to children and tell them from young that this is not okay, that’s unsafe, you shouldn’t touch your friend like this,” says Yasmin.

Addressing children’s behaviour early, even if it is siblings carelessly hitting one another for play or out of frustration, can make all the difference. “Afterwards when queueing for food, some of them would say to their friends, ‘You’re in my safe space’. It was so cute! They were listening and using what they had been taught.”

And things are only just getting started. “We’re going to repeat everything we did in Penang here in KL, and we’re aiming to do so in May. For the opening ceremony, we intend to make it accessible to the public, not just VIPs. We’re going to get the police department in Bukit Aman to bring extra police officers to set up booths, so that anyone who wants to make a report can. We will be there, so there is nothing to be afraid of,” affirms Nawiza.

“People are going to get bored seeing our faces, but we don’t care. We’re going to keep going. We want predators to know we are coming for them!”

This July, the women will be heading to Penang for the release of Makchic’s upcoming book on cyberbullying. There is also a CPS book in the works and plans to do roadshows as part of their community outreach initiatives.

While the KL chapter does not currently house children, all three women agree there may come a time when it becomes necessary.

“Right now, we really want to focus on education and awareness, but as time goes on and there is a need, we may collaborate with other organisations or homes,” says Asra.

More urgent than temporary shelter, though, is the need for rehabilitation centres with trained staff for sexually abused youth, as Nawiza stresses that kids who are immediately placed into homes without the appropriate psychological treatment are more likely to harm their peers or fall prey again themselves.

What matters most to all at CPS is having a lasting impact. The organisation hopes to secure royal patronage to lend authority and draw attention to the cause, as well as the expertise of qualified mental health specialists. While the bigger picture may seem daunting for many, the women are taking things day by day and placing the well-being of Malaysia’s youngest at the heart of their efforts.

“We don’t want to plan too many events, just work on them one at a time to put our whole heart into them and see the response,” says Yasmin.

Nawiza agrees, echoing a sentiment that represents CPS at its core: “Whatever we do is not for ourselves, but for the children and for the future.”

 

This article first appeared on Feb 10, 2025 in The Edge Malaysia.