Educators must reach students through their screens
SOCIAL media is rapidly becoming the new 'blackboard' for Gen Z. According to our survey involving 345 Gen Z university students (275 female and 70 male students), platforms like TikTok and WhatsApp status updates are emerging as primary sources from which students receive important reminders and educational content in their daily lives.
Over 90% of participants said they spend more than three hours a day on social media. TikTok, WhatsApp status updates and Instagram are the platforms they use most often.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Star
2 days ago
- The Star
No signal, more life
FOR the past three weeks, the 1,200 residents of Kampung Keniogan – a remote island village located two hours by boat from Sandakan and an hour from Beluran – have been living in near-total digital silence. No WhatsApp. No Facebook. No phone calls. Their only telecommunications tower has been offline, inaccessible due to a land dispute. The road leading to it sits on private property, and the landowner has refused to allow access for maintenance and repairs. Talks between the landowner, the telecommunications provider and villagers are expected soon. In the meantime, Keniogan has gone dark – and the community is adjusting. Without buzzing phones or endless scrolling, time feels slower here. There's a stillness, a return to being present – and to the unfiltered rhythm of everyday life. Children spend their afternoons riding bicycles along gravel paths. Their laughter carries through the air as they play volleyball, football and takraw until nightfall. With no mobile coverage on the island, a young boy uses a walkie-talkie to inform his mother that he has reached home after school — one of the few ways villagers in Kampung Keniogan stay connected during the ongoing communication blackout. One young girl said she usually spends her time watching YouTube videos. But with no Internet, boredom eventually has pushed her outside. Now, she rides around the village almost every day. There's been no sulking, no fuss. Just movement, play and rediscovered joy. Most of the children know each other from the island's only primary school. The village is tightly knit – everyone connected by blood, marriage or years of shared routine. In the afternoons, women gather in huts along the wooden walkways, chatting and keeping watch as toddlers toddle nearby. Fishermen return in the evenings to relax with neighbours or join in the games. 'I haven't seen this many kids running around in the evenings in a long time,' said Amsinah Gulam, 49, who sells sweets from her home. 'It feels like how things were when I was growing up.' Villagers of Kampung Keniogan gather for an evening volleyball match, one of the few activities that has brought the community closer during their three-week Internet blackout. But the quiet comes at a cost. The lack of communication tools has created real challenges. 'If I want to invite someone to eat at my house, I have to walk there myself,' said village chief Azmi Madlis with a laugh. 'We can't even make simple phone calls, let alone receive emergency messages.' Azmi is working to mediate a resolution. 'We're planning a meeting soon between the telco, the landowner and the villagers. We need a long-term solution. The people here depend on connectivity – not just for fun, but for school, emergencies and access to information.' Electricity on the island is limited. Diesel-powered generators run from 6pm to 6am, which means no lights or fans during the heat of the day – yet life carries on. In the evenings, the village comes alive. Families gather outdoors in the cooler air. Children roam freely. Neighbours linger and chat before nightfall. Pupils of SK Keniogan spend time chatting and laughing after school — all of them familiar with one another, as the island has only one primary school. Many of the young women have left Keniogan to work in nearby towns. Most who remain are housewives. For some, the greatest anxiety is being unable to check on relatives outside the island. 'I cannot ask the condition of my daughter,' said one resident. 'If something happens to my family, I won't know.' Still, not everyone is unhappy about the sudden quiet. 'There's peace here,' said Azmi. 'But we can't stay disconnected forever. We hope this issue will be resolved soon.' Until then, Keniogan remains a rare, quiet pocket – a place where face-to-face connection has replaced screens, and the absence of a signal has unexpectedly brought the village a little closer together.
The Star
2 days ago
- The Star
Educators must reach students through their screens
SOCIAL media is rapidly becoming the new 'blackboard' for Gen Z. According to our survey involving 345 Gen Z university students (275 female and 70 male students), platforms like TikTok and WhatsApp status updates are emerging as primary sources from which students receive important reminders and educational content in their daily lives. Over 90% of participants said they spend more than three hours a day on social media. TikTok, WhatsApp status updates and Instagram are the platforms they use most often.
Focus Malaysia
2 days ago
- Focus Malaysia
Who am I when the media is watching?
EVERY day, I wake up and scroll. Before I even brush my teeth, I have already seen someone's vacation in parts of the world that I have never been, a viral clip from yesterday, a girl unboxing the latest phone, and a stranger's opinion on why Gen Z is 'too soft'. Yes, it's exhausting, but let's face it: It's addictive, and impossible to ignore. This is the media world I grew up in. Not just consuming it, but being shaped by it. Whether we realise it or not, media tells us who to be, what to care about, and how we should show up in the world. And for many of us in this generation, our identity is still being negotiated under the constant gaze of likes, shares, and filters. I sincerely believe that media is not inherently evil. In fact, it's one of the most powerful tools of our time. Through platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube, I've learned about cultures I've never visited, ideas I've never encountered, and stories I would never hear on mainstream news. Media has connected me to communities that affirm who I am — as a Southeast Asian youth, as a Muslim, as someone navigating life in between tradition and modernity. It has allowed many of us to share our cultures with pride, to reclaim languages that were once mocked, and to talk about mental health, gender, or faith with honesty. And most importantly, it has given a platform to young people who, in the past, would have remained invisible. But here's the catch: media also fragments who we are. We curate the best version of ourselves online. We post the wins, the aesthetic angles, the achievements, and the carefully selected quotes. But what about the in-between moments? The confusion, the insecurity, the loneliness, or the cultural expectations we quietly carry? These parts of our identity don't always fit into a 15-second video or a neatly filtered Instagram post. When I was younger, I used to think media was just a reflection of the world. But now I see that media actually 'creates' the world. And more importantly, our place in it. It tells us whose stories matter. Whose beauty is valid. Whose struggles are 'trending'. And often, those of us from small towns, minority backgrounds, or non-Western cultures don't see ourselves represented at all. Or worse, we're reduced to stereotypes. So how do we resist this pressure to perform? How do we reclaim our image when the media constantly tries to define us? I believe it starts with intentional storytelling. Instead of copying what gets the most views or what the algorithm prefers, we need to ask ourselves: What story do I want to tell? What version of myself feels honest? For me, that means being real. Be it about my language, my background, my struggles with identity, or my hopes for the future. It means showing up online the same way I do offline: imperfect, but real. It also means creating space for others to do the same. We need more platforms that allow young people to express themselves without fear of being judged or misrepresented. We need media that uplifts diverse voices, especially those who have been historically silenced or sidelined. Whether it's a podcast in a local dialect, a photo essay on hijabi skaters or a TikTok explaining rural traditions, our generation needs to tell our own stories in our own way. And finally, we need to remember that identity is more than an aesthetic. It's a journey. It's okay not to have everything figured out. We don't need to fit into a single brand, label, or algorithm to be valid. So the next time I catch myself asking, 'Am I enough?' because of what I see online, I will pause. I will breathe. I will remind myself: I'm not just content. I'm a person. A generation is watching. But more importantly, we are watching ourselves. Let's make sure the version we see, and more importantly the version we share, is real. ‒ June 24, 2025 The author is an undergraduate student of Universiti Malaya, taking an elective university course entitled 'Introduction to Journalism and Storytelling in Digital Age'. The views expressed are solely of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of Focus Malaysia. Main image: Pexels/Kerde Severin
