When a 14-year-old girl from Kuala Lumpur was found in Johor after missing for nearly five days, some media reports described the 47-year-old man she was with as her “boyfriend.”
He is nearly four decades older. She is a child. He was a predator, not a partner.
This wasn’t a love story. It was an exploitation of a vulnerable schoolgirl.
The two had reportedly met through an online game. Over time, the suspected paedophile picked her up in a SUV, promised her property and gifts, and left visible kiss marks on her neck.
Her father said the family noticed troubling signs, including kiss marks on her neck, and filed a police report two weeks before her disappearance.
Yet despite these facts, both the media and law enforcement failed to call it what it is: grooming.
When journalists call a grooming suspect a “boyfriend,” they don’t just get the story wrong, they normalise exploitation.
Malaysia’s Sexual Offences Against Children Act defines paedophilia as any sexual contact or relationship between an adult over 18 and a child under 16.
That’s what the law says. Why didn’t the police and press say it?
When news reports call this a “relationship” and treat the girl as an equal participant, it distorts reality and undermines public understanding.
This isn’t just poor reporting — it’s dangerous. It risks normalising what should be universally condemned.
Equally troubling is the treatment of the victim’s identity. Some outlets named the girl’s father, revealed where she lived, and used partially obscured photos of her.
These choices, even if legal, are deeply unethical. Journalism must never come at the cost of a child’s dignity or safety.
The protection of minors isn’t optional — it is non-negotiable.
What this case highlights is a persistent failure in how we talk about grooming, and in how our systems respond to it.
Authorities must use the right terminology and make it clear that grooming is not a minor or ambiguous matter.
Public messaging must be unambiguous: adults who attempt to manipulate, gift, or lure minors into emotional or physical dependency are committing a serious crime, and they will face the full force of the law.
The man in this case allegedly told the girl’s family he was willing to “wait for her to grow up.”
That chilling statement reveals just how important early intervention is.
Grooming is a process, a calculated one, that often begins with emotional manipulation and builds to much worse.
The media, too, must hold itself to higher standards. Reporting on such cases requires more than caution. It requires a commitment to protecting the susceptible.
That means no identifying details, no sensational angles, and absolutely no framing that paints predators as suitors.
Beyond reporting and enforcement, public awareness must rise to meet the challenge of the digital age.
Grooming doesn’t begin with physical contact. It starts with chats on gaming platforms, and in spaces parents often don’t think to monitor.
Malaysia needs to invest in sustained, targeted education campaigns that help families and children recognise red flags before harm escalates.
And while Malaysia already has a cyber security agency, it must now be empowered with clearer mandates, stronger coordination, and visible leadership.
This body must play a central role in grooming prevention efforts, working across government, media, and tech platforms.
This case isn’t just about one man. It’s also about a system that still fails to protect minors adequately whether through weak reporting practices or hesitant policing.
Grooming is a growing, under-reported threat, and what we need is better media literacy, stronger safeguards, and the courage to call abuse by its name.
If we continue to treat it like tabloid scandal or romantic tragedy, the next child may not get a second chance.
We owe it to our children to speak honestly, act swiftly, and refuse to look away.
The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of FMT.
