By Dr Mohd Safar Hasim
The death of Zara Qairina Mahathir in July 2025 was a moment of national reckoning. A bright young student, Zara’s life was cut short in circumstances pointing to bullying within her school environment.
Her case was the first prosecuted under newly amended Penal Code provisions that formally recognised bullying as a criminal offence. It was a watershed moment, exposing the inadequacy of Malaysia’s existing framework.
Until then, bullying was treated largely as a disciplinary matter within schools, or prosecuted under general criminal provisions such as assault.
Zara’s case galvanised public opinion, leading to rallies, debates, and ultimately the passage of the Anti-Bullying Act 2025.
This new law is significant because it codifies bullying as a distinct legal category. It defines bullying
broadly, encompassing physical harm, psychological abuse, social exclusion, discriminatory acts, and cyberbullying. This breadth is vital, as bullying is no longer confined to the playground; it has migrated online, where humiliation can spread rapidly and cause lasting damage.
By recognising these forms of harm, the Act acknowledges the complexity of bullying in the modern age.
At the heart of the Act is the creation of the Anti-Bullying Tribunal, a quasi-judicial body designed to hear cases outside criminal courts. This tribunal is not equivalent to a Magistrate’s Court, Sessions Court, or High Court. It cannot impose imprisonment. Instead, it focuses on restorative justice, mediation, and compensation.
Victims can be awarded up to RM250,000 in damages, and perpetrators may be required to undergo counselling. Parents of perpetrators can also be held accountable, both financially and through mandatory counselling. This parental responsibility clause is striking, reflecting the belief that parents must play an active role in shaping their children’s behaviour.
The tribunal system is a deliberate departure from the punitive approach of criminal courts. Lawmakers wanted to avoid criminalising children for acts of bullying, recognising that minors are still developing and capable of rehabilitation.
By situating bullying cases within a tribunal, the Act provides a lighter mechanism that prioritises victim protection without branding young perpetrators as criminals. This is why the Act was not placed under Malaysia’s juvenile law framework.
Juvenile law, governed by the Child Act 2001, deals with minors who commit criminal offences and operates through juvenile courts. It emphasises rehabilitation but still treats the child as an offender.
The Anti-Bullying Act, by contrast, treats bullying as a social harm requiring intervention, not necessarily a crime demanding punishment. It is preventive and restorative, not punitive.
Yet the Act is not without limitations. Its scope is confined to students under 18, meaning universities and colleges are excluded. This is a glaring omission, given the history of serious bullying and hazing in higher education.
The most notorious example is the case of UPNM cadet Zulfarhan Osman, tortured and killed by his peers in 2017. That case was prosecuted as murder under the Penal Code, but it highlighted the culture of ragging and hazing that persists in universities.
Orientation practices, often framed as harmless initiation rituals, can cross the line into harassment and abuse. By excluding universities and colleges, the Act leaves a significant gap. The government has promised to review this in 2026, but until then, higher education institutions remain outside the tribunal’s jurisdiction.
This raises an important question: if the Penal Code already covers all Malaysians, is it necessary to extend the Anti-Bullying Act to universities? The answer lies in the distinction between the two frameworks.
The Penal Code criminalises bullying when it escalates into harassment, threats, grievous hurt, or murder. Punishments include imprisonment of up to ten years and fines. It is a blunt instrument, designed to deter and punish. The Anti-Bullying Act, however, offers a softer, restorative pathway. It allows for mediation, counselling, and compensation without the stigma of criminal prosecution.
Extending the Act to universities would provide an intermediate mechanism for cases that are harmful but not criminal, ensuring victims have access to redress without dragging every case into the criminal courts.
Another limitation of the Act is its treatment of institutions. While parents can be held accountable, schools and universities are not legally liable if they fail to prevent or report bullying. Institutions are required to set up anti-bullying committees and provide counselling, but there are no penalties if they cover up incidents to protect their reputation. This is a serious gap.
In many cases, institutions are complicit in perpetuating a culture of silence, prioritising their image over students’ welfare. Holding institutions legally accountable would create stronger incentives for transparency and proactive prevention.
The relationship between the Anti-Bullying Act and the Penal Code is crucial to understanding Malaysia’s new legal landscape. The Penal Code amendments introduced Sections 507B–507G, which criminalise bullying, harassment, threats, insults, and doxing.
These provisions apply to all Malaysians, regardless of age. They provide the heavy hand of criminal law, ensuring that serious cases are met with serious consequences. The Anti-Bullying Act, by contrast, is a specialised law for schools, designed to protect victims and rehabilitate perpetrators.
Together, they form a two-tier system: the tribunal for school-level bullying, and the criminal courts for serious offences. This dual approach reflects a balance between prevention and punishment, between protecting children and deterring violence.
How, then, can the law be improved? First, universities and colleges must be included. The culture of hazing and orientation rituals is deeply entrenched, and without legal intervention, it will continue to cause harm.
Second, institutions must be held accountable. Schools and universities should face penalties if they fail to report or address bullying.
Third, orientation practices should be explicitly banned under the Act, leaving no room for coercion or humiliation disguised as tradition.
Fourth, public awareness campaigns must be sustained. Laws alone cannot change culture; education and advocacy are essential to shift attitudes from silence to accountability.
Finally, the balance between punishment and rehabilitation must be maintained. Perpetrators, especially minors, should receive counselling and support alongside sanctions, ensuring that the cycle of harm is broken rather than perpetuated.
The Anti-Bullying Act 2025 is a landmark achievement, born of tragedy but pointing towards hope. It is not a criminal law, nor a juvenile law, but a preventive and restorative framework designed to protect victims and reshape school culture.
It acknowledges that bullying is not a trivial matter but a serious social harm with lasting consequences. Yet it also recognises that children are not criminals to be punished but individuals to be guided and rehabilitated.
The challenge now is to expand its scope, strengthen its enforcement, and embed its principles into the fabric of Malaysian society.
The cases of Zara Qairina and Zulfarhan Osman remind us that bullying can escalate into tragedy. To honour their memory, the law must evolve, ensuring that no child or student suffers in silence, and that dignity and solidarity remain at the heart of our collective responsibility.
The views expressed here are entirely those of Dr Mohd Safar Hasim, a Council Member of the Malaysian Press Institute (MPI)