OPINION | Oh Dear, Students are not Robots

I saw banners of excellence, shining walls full of honor lists, and productivity slogans in Schools, proudly raising it like a trophy. And behind those glossy achievements where the biggest lie was hidden—students were exhausted gasping for air. In the race to be the best, many young people are quietly breaking down, suffocated by the weight of expectations that never seek to rest. Academic stress became considered as normal, it's like an invisible monster feeding on sleepless nights and quiet tears.

Every year, more than 727,000 people take their own lives—and among them are students who once had dreams, laughter, and plans that now exist only in memory. Suicide has become the third leading cause of death among 15- to 29-year-olds. For many, silence becomes their coping mechanism. According to the World Health Organization, one in seven adolescents lives with a mental health condition—most of them undiagnosed, untreated, and unheard. These aren’t just numbers; they’re stories of pain that could have been prevented if only someone had listened sooner.

Inside of each classroom, the pressure to excel often outweighs the joy of learning. Every missed point feels like a failure not just of performance, but of self-worth. The irony? Students began to measure themselves by grades, medals, and pathetic rankings, while the system fuels the illusion that academic excellence defines a person's future. Schools, parents, and institutions often forget that young minds are not machines—they are fragile beings shaped by encouragement, not perfection.

What’s more troubling is how mental health support in many schools exists only in name. Guidance offices have become checklists, not sanctuaries. Posters about “mental health awareness” hang on walls, but when students seek help, they are met with limited counseling hours, overworked staff, or outdated systems. These programs look good on paper but lack the heart and resources to truly make a difference.

The crisis goes beyond individual schools—it’s structural. Research shows inefficiency in managing resources: inadequate facilities, lack of trained professionals, and weak policy implementation. Financial constraints, inconsistent leadership, and the absence of proper monitoring systems make it nearly impossible to sustain meaningful support. Students are told to speak up, yet the very system they rely on is too broken to listen.

The ethical implications of such neglect are profound. Failing to invest in mental health care violates the principles of justice, compassion, and beneficence—the very foundations of what education should uphold. A system that prides itself on developing bright minds cannot continue to ignore the emotional wounds festering beneath academic success. The cost of silence is measured in lives lost—a price too high to pay for perfection.

So, dear school—we’re not robots built for endless productivity. We’re humans who think, feel, and break. True excellence is not about flawless grades but about creating a space where students can grow without fear, strive without breaking, and learn without losing themselves.

Because no award, no recognition, and no academic title will ever be worth more than a student’s peace of mind.