
Hai Anis, by Azura Nasron, is not just a film. It is a warning. A refusal to look away. A confrontation with a truth too many refuse to acknowledge: that grooming does not begin with violence—it begins with kindness. Cyber grooming remains buried beneath cultural silence in Malaysia. We do not talk about it, and in that silence, we allow it to fester. Hai Anis exposes this reality—how predators manipulate, isolate, and exploit young people. But more than that, it demands an answer: Are we doing enough to protect our children?
In this interview, Azura Nasron speaks about the urgency of telling this story, the challenges of breaking the silence, and the impact of Hai Anis—because this is a conversation that can no longer wait.
Izzah Dejavu: What inspired you to focus on online grooming in Hai Anis?
Azura Nasron: The personal is always political. In Malaysia, the personal is also always silenced. Issues surrounding children and teenagers have existed for years, yet we refuse to talk about them. Even when solutions are proposed, the conversation is dismissed as ‘taboo.’ Meanwhile, predators continue to thrive in that silence. I have seen and handled cases where teenagers were groomed, only to be failed by the very institutions meant to protect them. Schools dismissed them, families silenced them, and hospitals treated them like problems to be managed rather than survivors to be supported. The way these cases are handled is not just disappointing; it is devastating. Survivors are left unprotected, unheard, and often blamed. That’s what breaks me the most—not just the harm itself, but the failure of those who were supposed to help.
In 2024, I discovered Monster Among Us (MAU), and I realized there was a better way to handle these cases with care, urgency, and humanity. I didn’t join just to raise awareness—I want to take action. Through MAU, we educate children on sexual and reproductive health rights (SRHR), yet in Malaysia, these conversations remain whispered about, ignored, and buried under shame and fear. And that silence? That silence is what allows predators to thrive. We teach children to fear strangers, yet we don’t prepare them for the real danger—the one who listens, who flatters, who makes them feel special. Grooming doesn’t begin with fear—it begins with trust. That is also the reason why I made Hai Anis: because this silence needs to end.

Izzah Dejavu: Hai Anis exposes the tactics predators use to groom their victims. How did your experiences or observations shape this narrative?
Azura Nasron: I have lived them. I’ve heard the stories. I have experienced being in that situation and know what it’s like to be that child—to fall into the trap, not out of naivety, but because the danger never looks like danger. It never announces itself. It never arrives with a warning. It starts with kindness. With attention. With validation. It begins with, “How was your day?” and “I understand you.” It begins with someone making you feel seen in a way no one else has, and before you even realize it, you are trapped—emotionally entangled with someone who was never who they claimed to be.
This isn’t a failure of intelligence. It’s a failure of protection. A failure of education. A failure of the fact that we don’t teach our youth what real love looks like versus what manipulation feels like. We warn them about bad people, but we don’t explain that sometimes, bad people don’t look bad at all. Sometimes, they arrive dressed as the very thing we crave—care, affection, understanding. To be honest, it’s not just them. We, as adults, struggle with this conversation too. We don’t know how to start. We hesitate, we fumble, and we convince ourselves that maybe if we stay silent, they will stay safe, but silence has never protected anyone. If we don’t find the words to talk to them, someone else will and that someone may not have good intentions.
Izzah Dejavu: This film touches on sensitive issues like digital exploitation and sex education in Malaysia. What are the challenges you face in developing this story?
Azura Nasron: The real challenge wasn’t just in the technical aspects of filmmaking—it was in navigating a country where we still struggle to say the word ‘sex’ in a classroom, let alone teach children about digital predators. People fear that talking about these issues will corrupt young minds. But silence is what corrupts them. Silence is what makes them unprepared.
One of the biggest struggles I had during scripting was finding a way to balance the weight of the topic with moments that felt real and engaging. How do you tell a story like this without making it feel like a public service announcement (PSA)? How do you reach an audience that is growing up with an entirely different digital language? I spent time with Gen Alpha, immersing myself in their humour, their slang, and their world. I had to make sure that when they watched Hai Anis, it wouldn’t feel like a lecture—it would feel like something that understood them. Because if they don’t feel seen, they won’t care. And if they don’t care, nothing changes.
Izzah Dejavu: What changes do you hope to see, especially among parents and educators, in tackling online exploitation?
Azura Nasron: First, for parents—stop blaming children. Stop blaming survivors. Start holding perpetrators accountable. Besides, I also think that the most dangerous assumption a parent can make is, “My child would never fall for this.” Grooming doesn’t come with a red flag. It doesn’t look like a villain in the shadows. It looks like trust. It looks like love. It looks like someone is finally listening. If we don’t prepare them for that, we are leaving them defenceless.
Secondly, for schools, digital safety and consent cannot be an afterthought. It should be as fundamental as mathematics, as non-negotiable as road safety. This is the world children are growing up in—a world where a stranger’s voice can slip into their lives at any moment, through a screen, through a message, through a game. And yet, we are still debating whether these conversations belong in classrooms. We are still afraid of the words ‘sex education,’ still convinced that silence is protection? As I stated before, silence has never protected anyone. All it does is ensure that when something happens, they have no language to describe it, no framework to understand it, and nowhere to turn.
For policymakers—stop treating online exploitation as an abstract problem. Stop speaking about it like it only exists in reports and statistics. This is happening here, now, every day. Laws need to do more than exist on paper—they need to be enforced. They need to prevent, not just punish. Protect, not just react. Right now, predators understand the internet better than the laws do, and that is a terrifying reality.
Lastly, I think we cannot afford to pretend this is happening in isolation. The rise of conservatism fuels a patriarchal society that continues to endanger women and children. The more we allow rigid, harmful structures to dictate morality, the more we create a world where predators go unchallenged—because questioning power, questioning control, and questioning who gets to decide what is right and wrong is seen as more dangerous than violence itself.
Izzah Dejavu: In your view, what is the first step in protecting Malaysian youth from online grooming?
Azura Nasron: Real change doesn’t come from one direction—it requires communities, shifting behaviours, and changing mindsets, and yes, policy matters too. Many organizations have long raised this issue, yet political will remains absent. Our safeguards are weak, and implementation is even worse. Across families, schools, and hospitals, protective measures are unclear, leaving youth vulnerable. Instead of blaming victims, we must take responsibility—starting with the conversations we have, the knowledge we share, and the actions we take.
Besides, we need to empower youth to recognize online grooming. It doesn’t look like a threat—it looks like trust, care, and attention. Just because someone makes them feel seen or special doesn’t mean they have good intentions. Grooming isn’t love; it’s exploitation. At the same time, we must acknowledge why people seek connection. In today’s fast-paced world, we’ve lost empathy, and without understanding the need for belonging, we might miss the bigger picture.
It is also crucial for us to have a sustainable network of trained facilitators—educators, parents, police, doctors, judges, prosecutors, and social workers—who can use Hai Anis as an educational tool. A film alone won’t change the world, but in the right hands, backed by resources and real engagement, it can spark conversations that shift how Malaysia addresses this issue. Most crucially, I think, we must address the gendered nature of online exploitation. Young girls, especially, are raised to be polite, accommodating, and secretive—predators exploit that. We need to teach them that saying no isn’t rude, setting boundaries isn’t wrong, and protecting themselves is nothing to apologize for.

Izzah Dejavu: What is the Impact process behind Hai Anis?
Azura Nasron: The impactful journey of Hai Anis goes far beyond the screen. One of the most significant milestones was our collaboration with Monster’s Among Us (MAU), an organization dedicated to educating children about sexual education. We screened Hai Anis during the My Body My Rules – Comprehensive Sexual Education program across three communities in Klang Valley, involving 24 students aged 13 to 17. They weren’t just passive viewers; they became active participants in a conversation that is often silenced. Their reactions were powerful and varied—ranging from curiosity to concern, from sharing personal experiences to reflecting on their understanding of safety. While many of them recognized some red flags of grooming, there were still gaps. They understood privacy, but not always as a right, and their perception of risk was mostly shaped by family and culture rather than personal agency.
On March 8, 2025, we reached a broader audience at Gerakbudaya, Malaysia’s leading independent bookstore and cultural hub, during an event for International Women’s Day. The screening drew activists, students, educators, and everyday Malaysians eager to engage, challenge, and redefine the conversations around digital safety and exploitation. The response was overwhelming—people expressed a mix of anger, empathy, and empowerment. I think Hai Anis had evolved into something more than a film; it became a dialogue.
As a Tech Tales Youth 2 participant, I’ve been guided by the Video for Change Impact Toolkit throughout this process. Its approach goes beyond simply producing a film—it’s about sparking conversations, building community engagement, and ensuring that impact is woven into every stage of the journey. It’s not just about counting views; it’s about the awareness raised, the stories shared, and the actions inspired. What I appreciate most about this toolkit is its acknowledgement that social change is not just a final product—it’s an ongoing process. It emphasizes the importance of evaluating both positive and unintended impacts, recognizing that true change must come from the communities themselves.
Check out the Tech Tales Youth Impact Campaign Builder below, a strategic tool designed to amplify engagement, ensure lasting impact, and help prioritise the key audiences to reach for meaningful change.
| Film’s Message | Impact Goals | Partners | Type of Change
|
Impact Activity | Impact Tasks |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Digital grooming often masks as love and attention: The dangers young people face online and offline, especially from predators |
Build a network of trained facilitators to use the film as an educational tool throughout Malaysia. |
Educational NGOs
School counsellors & youth workers |
|
Hai Anis Impact Campaign Tool Create a training program for educators, youth workers, and community leaders to maximise the film’s impact. |
Develop trauma-informed approach guidelines Design age-appropriate activities for different groups Create evaluation tools to measure impact Host training workshops for potential facilitators Establish a facilitator network for ongoing support and resource sharing Create a feedback mechanism to improve materials continuously |
|
Same as above |
Raise awareness among Malaysian youth about online grooming warning signs and the tactics used by predators. Equip them with strategies to identify and respond to grooming behaviors early. |
Buku Jalanan Chow Kit (BJCK) Schools and youth groups |
|
Youth-focused community screenings |
Utilise the Hai Anis Impact Toolkit Develop a facilitator’s guide with discussion points Create a pre-screening questionnaire to gauge existing knowledge Prepare simple handouts on warning signs Collect feedback Document stories and insights shared by participants, and if permitted, post in Tech Tales Youth IG |
|
The film demonstrates how gender dynamics shape digital exploitation, with young girls particularly vulnerable to specific forms of manipulation |
Raise awareness about the gendered nature of online exploitation and advocate for better protection measures. |
Gerakbudaya Digital rights groups |
|
International Women’s Day Screening – March 8, 2025 at Gerakbudaya Bookstore Target 30-40 participants |
Meet with the Gerakbudaya team for logistics Prepare an adult-focused pre-questionnaire Create posters from previous screenings Write promotional content for social media Organise a panel with experts on gender and digital rights |
| The psychological impact of digital exploitation: Anis’s emotional journey reveals the deep psychological impact of grooming, including isolation, dependency, shame, and fear. | Ensure support services are accessible and appropriate for victims of online exploitation. | Concerned government agencies Women’s Centre for Change (WCC) Mental health providers School counselors |
|
Community screening and forum discussion in Penang in collaboration with WCC |
Contact WCC representative Prepare short concept notes Set meeting to discuss expectations Plan screening and forum panel Create a resource guide for support services Include perspective of mental health professionals |