Protecting Children in the Age of Social Media.

When Privacy Laws Meet Public Lives.

Both the Children’s Act and the Maintenance Act in South Africa are clear: when there are active cases involving children, parties are prohibited from publishing or sharing any information that could reveal the child’s identity. This includes names, photographs, or any details that could make a child identifiable. Court judgments and published articles follow the same principle using only initials to protect minors from exposure.

The intention behind these laws is sound and rooted in child protection. They aim to shield children from secondary harm such as bullying, social stigma, and long-term emotional distress. Once something is shared online, it can be copied, reshared, and remain searchable indefinitely, a permanent digital footprint that the child never consented to and cannot easily erase later in life.

Yet in practice, this is far more complex in today’s social media-driven world. Many parents, often out of frustration or pain, turn to platforms to express what they’re going through, whether it’s conflict over parenting arrangements, maintenance disputes, or experiences of abuse. While these posts may feel like emotional release or truth-telling, they can unintentionally identify a child or violate their right to privacy.

This challenge grows even more complicated when public figures, influencers, or media personalities are involved. For people whose livelihoods depend on their public image, a separation or custody issue does not unfold quietly. It becomes a matter of public curiosity, often amplified by followers, sponsorships, and press coverage. Even subtle posts, like motivational quotes or “healing” messages can invite speculation, gossip, and judgment.

The children, though innocent, often become collateral damage in this digital storm. Some parents respond by no longer posting identifiable images of their children, particularly after incidents of online bullying or invasive commentary. Others may be bound by non-disclosure agreements (NDAs), designed to protect reputations, brands, and financial arrangements.

But beyond public figures, these dilemmas exist for ordinary parents too. In community groups, WhatsApp chats, and Facebook posts, parents frequently discuss their cases or frustrations. The intent is rarely malicious, often, it’s a cry for empathy or understanding. Yet the law does not distinguish between public figures and private citizens when it comes to a child’s right to privacy.

South Africa’s Children’s Act (Sections 74 and 36) explicitly prohibits publication of any material that reveals or may reveal the identity of a child involved in legal proceedings. The Protection of Personal Information Act (POPIA) reinforces this by restricting the collection, use, or sharing of a minor’s personal information without proper consent.

On an international level, the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (Article 16) enshrines every child’s right to privacy and protection from unlawful interference. This applies not only to state actions, but also to the conduct of parents and the public.

Digital safety is now part of modern child protection. The legal framework recognises this, but social norms haven’t fully caught up. Many adults still see social media as a personal diary, not a public broadcast. But once a post leaves your device, it enters a world without context, control, or compassion.

I encourage parents to use the anonymous function on Facebook and to make their profiles private.

I am also conscious of this tension personally. Although my children are now adults, I have shared aspects of my own story publicly, not for attention, but as part of awareness, advocacy, and accountability. My own legal journey has spanned over fourteen years, and I have spoken out to hold the Department of Justice, SAPS, and the NPA accountable for systemic failures. My children did not ask for this, and I recognise that even when the intention is advocacy, the impact can still be a reminder for them.

I have only ever spoken about one of my children in this context, because it is on his behalf that I continue to fight for protection through maintenance. I have never named their father, and I returned to my maiden name to create some distance. Still, I am aware that our story exists in the public space, and that awareness carries weight. The alternative, however, would be silence and silence allows injustice to thrive.

Few parents plan for these dilemmas when family life is harmonious. Few imagine that the same platforms used to share joyful moments could one day become evidence, or that a child’s photo could become the subject of online cruelty.

As we navigate this intersection of law, technology, and emotion, one truth stands firm:

Children did not choose the conflict. They deserve the full protection of our silence when appropriate, our discretion, and our wisdom, even as we continue to speak truth to power.