There I was, on the evening bus home. Not by choice – our car had decided to take a long weekend off, leaving us to rediscover the joys of public transport. The 30 minute layover between buses in the morning got me taking photos along the beach. In the evening, I was exhausted, here they say knackered. I plopped myself in the backseat, resigned to my fate, when I noticed the kid in front of me.
Now, let me tell you, this was no ordinary kid. This boy was eerily familiar. My son’s age, give or take two years. My son’s skin tone. My son’s unkempt afro, in all its untamed glory. And, to top off the creepiness, he was playing my son’s favourite mobile game. If life were a movie, this was the part where the camera zooms in dramatically, and I start questioning my own reality. If there was an opposite of déjà vu, this was it.
But then, the coincidences ended just there.
Unlike my son, this boy had a bigger frame. Not just big, bigger than what seemed comfortable for his age. He sat slouching on the seat like doing a lazy number two. He panted with every breath, as if he had just run a marathon, except the only thing he was chasing was a high score. Every time he lost a point, he ticked and spasmed, his frustration almost painful to watch. And through it all, he seemed utterly unaware that he was struggling to breathe, let alone of his surroundings. Engrossed in the game for dear life.
Now, I’m no doctor. I don’t pretend to diagnose strangers on public transport. At least in this instance I didn’t intend to. But something about the scene gnawed at me. How did he get here? How did a kid, someone so young, so full of potential, end up struggling with his own breath, lost in a digital world, his body giving tell-tale signs of distress?
And then the bigger, scarier question hit me: Could this be my son in two years? He plays the same game. He fidgets with the same rage when he loses.
The Slippery Slope of Love and Convenience
Let’s be honest, parenting is a battlefield, and sometimes, the easiest way to keep the peace is to give in. “You want more screen time? Fine. Just one more level.” “Not in the mood to go outside? Okay, but only for today.” “Vegetables? Who needs ‘em when we have vitamins, right?”
And bit by bit, without even realizing it, we lay the foundation for habits that could shape or misshape (no pun intended) our children’s future.
I don’t say this to judge. I say this because I saw it, right in front of me, in that bus seat. It wasn’t a vision, I have a ticket to prove it. A child who was, perhaps, never told “Enough.” A child whose body was sounding alarms that no one had heard, or worse, that had been ignored.
Breaking the Cycle Before It Starts
So, how do we, as parents, avoid this fate for our own kids? How do we stop our children from sliding into unhealthy habits while still being the loving, understanding parents we strive to be?
- Movement Should Be a Habit, Not an Event
Exercise shouldn’t be a punishment or a forced activity. Kids don’t need gym memberships, they need play. They need to climb trees, ride bikes, chase each other in the park. If the only time they move is during P.E. lessons, we’ve got a problem. - Screen Time Needs a Strategy
Technology isn’t the enemy, mindless consumption is. If our kids can game for hours but can’t run for five minutes without gasping, something’s off. Maybe it’s time to introduce tech-free hours, encourage hobbies that involve actual movement, and yes, maybe even join them in their games, just, you know, the real-life kind. - Food Isn’t Just Fuel, It’s Medicine
This isn’t about weight, body image, or shaming. It’s about what fuels our kids. If their diet is 80% processed, sugar-laden, and deep-fried, their bodies will reflect that. We need to model better choices, without making food a battlefield. - Teach Self-Awareness
That boy on the bus? He didn’t even seem aware that he was struggling. Our kids need to learn to listen to their own bodies, to recognize exhaustion, breathlessness, discomfort, and not just power through because a screen demands their attention.
The Hardest Pill to Swallow
The truth is, our kids aren’t making these choices alone. We, as parents, are setting the stage. And while it’s easy to say, “Kids these days just don’t play outside,” the harder question is: Are we making it easy for them to?
Are we leading by example? Are we taking them on walks, showing them how to cook real food, enforcing limits on screens, and making movement a normal part of daily life? Or are we letting them become little digital hermits because it’s just easier that way?
Well, Eddie the mobile mechanic came and fixed the car. I won’t be in the bus tomorrow. But I know I’m not taking this son of mine to school in the morning. It’s just a 30mins walk, it won’t kill him.
That boy on the bus wasn’t just a stranger. He was a cautionary tale. And as I sat there, watching him struggle with every breath, I silently promised myself, that won’t be my son.
Will you promise the same?
