Ordinarily, my line of career would have me oppose the Computer Misuse and Cybercrimes (Amendment) Act, 2025 in its entirety. But I digress. When a 13-year-old child who has just lost a parent feels compelled to come online to plead with adults to stop bullying her grieving family, maybe the Act is long overdue. The line between what we once considered freedom of expression and sheer cruelty are frighteningly blurry today.
I have, for a long time, held the thought that morals cannot be policed. That they are a heart issue, a reflection of a personal decay that requires redemption far beyond legislation. But if what we witness online every day is anything to go by, perhaps morals alone may not suffice. Maybe we need to start holding people accountable for the things they casually throw in the digital space.
Before last week, I barely knew the late Betty Bayo. In my circle, my cluelessness on social trends has made me a benchmark for brand visibility. A quick search, however, brought me to speed but also revealed something so heartbreaking. The fact that she felt the need to insist that her illness not be shared online. So wicked have we become that even at someone’s lowest moment, one who gave so much of herself to the public, vulnerability feels shameful.
She knew for a fact that what awaited her was not prayer, goodwill or compassion, but mockery. And the public did not disappoint. As soon as she passed on, everything she died protecting was laid bare by strangers who had zero regard for the young children who were grappling with a loss they could not process.
The 'tea culture' in this country is sickening. That it flourishes on all platforms says everything about how we enable this depravity. We have created a culture where we feel entitled to people’s private lives, demanding and expecting details and explanations on matters that do not concern us in the least.
We are so entitled, we believe that because someone works in a public office or has a public presence thanks to their career, we must have a say on every single thing that goes on in their lives. We are so quick to shout ‘freedom of speech’ as if that component of the Constitution was put in place to justify gossip. It is diabolical how we boldly air out other people's linens while hiding under our own soiled ones.
Monetisation was meant to nurture creativity. It was supposed to spotlight talent, highlight novel ideas while informing, entertaining and showcasing the beauty of humanity. It was never meant to create an economy out of mocking the broken, spreading gossip or turning other people’s pain into career paths. A need for social media followers and views, a desire to up our numbers should never be the reason we forget we are humans first.
Technology-enabled bullying has pushed people into depression, cost others their jobs, ruined families, silenced otherwise vibrant bubbly people and in the worst cases, driven others to suicide. We decry the rise in suicide and self-harm but why should we be surprised when strangers have chosen to make a living out of other people’s misery? While the online space should be the place where people find help and opportunities, it has become the last place anyone wants to show vulnerability.
This law may be imperfect but it may be just what we need to slow down the malice train that has been hurtling down the digital space, wreaking havoc unchecked. Maybe it will buy us some time to go back in time to figure out where we lost it as humans and have us rediscover what it means to be and to raise decent people.
And just as a side note, ladies and gentlemen, we need to reflect deeply on the people we choose to build our lives and even careers with. It is one thing when strangers online act with malice, but it is a far greater tragedy when the person stoking the flames is a partner, a co-parent or a friend seeking validation from strangers.
