Alice was a year younger than me. She was in sixth grade, and I — Austin — was in seventh. I had always been the star child — topping all my classes, a perfect son and an amazing big brother.

But Alice was different. She was moody, failing her classes and struggling with a bad temper at home. She was a quiet kid, introverted and often had behaviour problems, which earned her scoldings and sometimes even beatings from our mother. She was rude to me as well, though I never said anything back. It was as if she was always waiting to snap at me. We never understood why she turned out this way.

Our parents were very friendly with us; it was just that Alice never seemed to open up to any of us. She didn’t have friends either. As a big brother, I tried to reach out to her, but she was like a raging lion, always ready to strike. Eventually, I stopped talking to her. She pushed us all away.

A month ago, I was playing football with my friends when Ms Kate called me over. She told me that Alice had failed her math class yet again. She said she had tried talking to Alice, but it was like speaking to a brick wall. She asked if I knew what was going on with her.

“I’m sorry, Ms Kate. Alice is a difficult child. I’ll talk to her, though,” I replied, embarrassed. I excused myself and went to find my sister. I checked her classroom, but didn’t find her there. A few girls were sitting around, but when I asked them, they just shrugged, looking least bothered.

I turned corners, trying to figure out where my sister was during recess. As I passed by the girls’ restroom, I heard her name. I stopped outside to listen more closely.

“— and then you’ll be the biggest failure ever!” a girl was taunting. I heard laughter, followed by a sniff.

“You’re so pathetic, honestly. You can’t spell a simple word. You’re just the opposite of your charming brother!” another sneered, then laughed.

“What’s wrong, Alice? Aren’t you gonna cry? Awwww…!”

I froze. I couldn’t process what I was hearing. My sister, Alice, was being bullied by her classmates. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, my hands clenching into fists as I slammed open the door to the bathroom. The girls screamed.

What I saw next made my blood boil. Alice was standing by the window, her face red, dried tears staining her cheeks. She looked miserable. Three girls were standing by, as if ready to attack if she moved. Their faces turned pale as soon as they saw me. Alice’s eyes filled with fresh tears at the sight of me. My own eyes burned with tears of anger.

“Just you wait — I’ll deal with you myself!” I shouted, and the girls quickly ran past me, terrified. Alice was still looking at me, shaking. I realised I was shaking too. She slowly walked up to me, hesitant. Tears ran down my face.

“Since when?” I managed to ask.

“Since I was 10,” she replied quietly.

I had failed as a brother. She had been at the same school with me, suffering, and I hadn’t even known. I pulled her into a hug, and she broke down, sobbing into my chest. She held onto me as if her life depended on it.

After that, I reported the three girls to the school authorities, and we soon discovered that Alice’s entire class had been bullying her. My parents transferred us to a new school and sat down with Alice to talk about why she never told us. She confessed that she was scared and thought it was her fault that she was bullied.

Alice suffered from low self-esteem and poor mental health, which explained her temper and behaviour problems. My parents blamed themselves for not being vigilant enough or involved in her life. She didn’t feel comfortable sharing her pain with us, and we never imagined something like this could be the problem.

To everyone reading this: Don’t be a bully or let yourself be bullied. Discourage this behaviour if you ever witness it. Report it to your parents or teachers. Don’t stay quiet if you see your classmates being targeted.

And if you are one of the students being bullied — whether by your classmates, seniors at school, or kids in your neighbourhood — do not keep it to yourself. Enduring it in silence will only make things worse. Talk to your parents, siblings, teachers or a trusted friend. There’s always someone who will listen.

Whether it’s verbal bullying, physical abuse or even something more sinister like harassment, speak up to a responsible adult whom you trust. Remember, if you find the courage to speak up, you might save not just yourself, but also others who could become the next targets.

And to the parents: If your child is struggling with grades or showing unusual behaviour, try to find out what’s going on in their life. Every child wants to learn — unless someone else takes that motivation away.

Be vigilant, be involved and make sure your child feels safe to share their world with you.

Published in Dawn, Young World, March 22nd, 2025