Months of social unrest in Hong Kong have left pupils, who live on the mainland but studied in the city, terrorized. Distressed parents are considering taking their children back to mainland schools amid worries about their safety and politics on campuses. Gu Mengyan reports.

Hong Kong's lingering turmoil may turn out to be the last straw for Tina Zhang and her 8-year-old son, who used to cross the boundary to the city from Shenzhen drowsily each morning to attend school before the coronavirus outbreak.

The Primary Three pupil was on a school bus to Sha Tin one morning in mid-November when radical protesters blocked a thoroughfare in the New Territories and set fire to makeshift barricades.

Zhang, staggered at the traffic and other violent-protest-related alerts popping up on her mobile phone, decided to turn back and took her son home, fleeing the citywide chaos.

"My son's safety is, of course, paramount, while the hardest thing is to explain to him what's happening on the streets and why people have so much hatred for each other," she said.

The following day, the Education Bureau suspended classes for a week to ensure that students are safe. The unexpected holiday gave Zhang and her son a break from the 5:30 am alarm and a three-hour commute that have become routine over the past four years.

"As a parent, I was exhausted physically and mentally. Our family has strived for years with just one goal — getting our kid the best we can offer. Now it's gone," said Zhang. She has been at odds with her husband, a computer engineer working in Shenzhen, over whether to have their child back at a Shenzhen school for the next school year.

Hong Kong descended into incendiary chaos in June last year after often-violent protests erupted against the government's proposed amendments to its extradition laws. Fires raged on the streets almost every weekend and businesses, notably those with Chinese mainland links, were targeted and vandalized as rioters broke loose. Hong Kong's international reputation as Asia's leading business hub was battered.

The movement morphed into a broad campaign claiming to represent every gripe and grievance festering in the city, particularly among youth. The anti-government protesters warned that the insurrection would not stop until the government met all their "five demands", including an independent probe into alleged police brutality.

Zhang was shocked to learn that an 11-year-old boy was the youngest among some 1,000 underaged students arrested. About 80 teachers were also detained for their roles in the upheaval, including a 40-year-old kindergarten teacher, who was charged with assaulting a 3-year-old girl related to a police officer.

Zhang is among scores of unnerved mainland parents who're worried that their children will fall victim to an outpouring of anti-mainland sentiment, stemming from discontent with the government.

The umbra of campus politics — class boycotts, school bullying and human chains preventing admittance to classes — weighed on Zhang heavily. More than 150 complaints have been filed with the Education Bureau over alleged teacher misconduct in schools since June. She said students and teachers who're prejudiced against people from the mainland worry her most.

A survey by the Hong Kong Federation of Education Workers found that more than 40 percent of those polled in 168 schools had reported students under emotional distress stemming from the unrest, with 25 percent of teachers equally affected. About 10 schools recorded cases of bullying. The result of the survey was released in September — before the situation deteriorated.

Zhang also complained about anti-mainland bias in textbooks, which she believes may have contributed to Hong Kong's political rift. She had never noticed it until mainland media drew attention to the issue. "It's hard to say those contents are wrong. But, they should not hinge on one side of the story of China. My kid should know both," she said.