The Influence of Technology on Child-Rearing in Morocco
In nearly every Moroccan household, there exists a scene that has become so commonplace that we hardly notice it anymore: a young child, barely three or four years old, clutching a smartphone in their tiny hands, effortlessly swiping their finger across the screen without any formal instruction. No one has taught them this; they simply learn it, much like we adults learn to walk or talk. This phenomenon raises a pressing question for families across Morocco—from Casablanca to Oujda, and from Marrakech to Nador: who is truly raising our children today? Is it the parents or grandparents, as was traditionally the case, or has this responsibility shifted to a small screen that tirelessly captivates their attention?
Smartphones as Companions for Children
Many Moroccan mothers candidly admit, often in hushed tones and with clear embarrassment, that smartphones have become the quick fix when their child cries in the market or when they need just ten minutes of peace to finish cooking or a work call. Smartphones don't tire, refuse, or demand anything in return. They are seen as the ideal companion in the eyes of a weary father after a long day at work, and a mother juggling the responsibilities of both home and career. However, the crux of the issue lies not with the device itself, as it is merely a tool devoid of intent. The real problem arises from the fact that we, as parents, have inadvertently handed this tool a role we never intended for it to occupy: that of nurturing our children. A child who spends hours glued to rapidly changing short videos learns a specific rhythm of thought, a particular way of coping with boredom, and even a certain model of relationships and behavior, all without the guidance or correction of a parent or teacher.
Unlike previous generations, who experienced boredom and had the opportunity to play in the neighborhood or wait patiently for their favorite cartoon episode to air once a week, today's children do not understand what it means to have idle time. The moment they experience even a hint of boredom, one of their hands instinctively reaches for the smartphone, erasing any trace of boredom in seconds. While this may seem convenient in the moment, it ultimately deprives the child of a crucial opportunity: the chance to learn how to be alone with their thoughts and confront emptiness without escaping into technology.
Historically, the extended family system in Morocco acted as a protective layer, providing stories from grandmothers, jokes from uncles, and the watchful eyes of caring neighbors. This genuine social network contributed to child-rearing without any formal acknowledgment. However, as this network begins to dissolve in major urban areas and everyone becomes preoccupied with their devices, children often find themselves feeling isolated, even when surrounded by family.
So, what can we do? The solution does not lie in completely banning smartphones, as this approach is unrealistic and ineffective in our current era. Rather, we need to seek a balance. We should establish screen time limits just as we do for meals and sleep. Parents should sit with their children and watch together—not merely to monitor them but to understand what content they are engaging with and why it appeals to them. We must also allow boredom to reclaim its rightful place, giving children the space to experience it without rushing to alleviate it with a device. Ultimately, we adults must recognize that our own eyes are often glued to screens more than we realize, and that children learn through imitation long before they learn through words. In conclusion, the question is not just about who is raising our children, but whether we are still the ones making that decision, or if we have relinquished it to algorithms that do not know our children and are indifferent to their futures.
As reported by hespress.com.
