We speak your language
The campaign focuses on educating young Canberrans about crime prevention and the importance of reporting suspicious activity. It provides tools and resources for anonymous reporting, while emphasising empowerment, responsibility and community impact.
ACT Region Crime Stoppers (ACTRCS) has launched an innovative youth awareness campaign aimed at empowering young people to take an active role in crime prevention. With the theme “We Speak Your Language,” this campaign connects with the younger generation by using relatable language, fostering trust, and breaking barriers of fear and uncertainty around reporting crime.
Although youth crime in the ACT has significantly decreased in recent years, challenges remain. From 2011–12 to 2021–22, the youth offending rate dropped by 76%, but youth crime still requires focused prevention.
Recent changes to legislation in the Australian Capital Territory highlight the importance of youth-focused crime prevention strategies. The minimum age of criminal responsibility has been raised to 12 years and will increase to 14 on 1 July 2025. These changes reflect a commitment to rehabilitation and early intervention, making it crucial to provide young people with the tools to contribute positively to their communities.
Short stories
Sixteen-year-old Jake never thought an overheard conversation could change lives. He was biking home from basketball practice when he stopped outside the local grocer. As he waited in line, two men near the lolly aisle spoke in hushed tones.
“It’s happening Friday night. No alarms, easy cash,” one said.
“Security cameras?” the other asked.
“Disabled. Just in and out.”
Jake froze. He didn’t know these men, but he knew what he had just heard—someone was planning a robbery. His heart pounded. Should he say something? Would they notice him? Before they could glance his way, he quickly paid for his snacks and left.
That night, he couldn’t shake the feeling. What if someone got hurt? What if it was his dad’s petrol station, or his friend’s parents’ shop? He didn’t want to get involved, but he also couldn’t ignore it.
Then he remembered something he had seen on Instagram —Crime Stoppers. A way to report a crime and remain anonymous. His hands trembled as he typed in the information to make a report: “I overheard two men talking about a robbery happening Friday night. No alarms. Easy cash. I don’t know where, but they seemed serious. Please look into it.”
The next day, the police made an arrest. A tip had led them to a planned break-in at a local jewellery store. Two men were caught attempting to disable the security system. The news spread quickly through his suburb, but no one knew who had helped stop the crime.
Jake watched the report from his living room, a small smile on his face. He didn’t need credit or praise. He just needed to know he had done the right thing.
And that was enough.
Seventeen-year-old Mia had always kept her head down. She wasn’t one to get involved in drama, especially not the kind that could get her into trouble. But that changed the day she overheard something that made her stomach turn.
It was after school, and she had stopped by the lake to clear her mind before heading home. Sitting on a bench, scrolling through her phone, she barely noticed the two older guys leaning against the fence nearby—until she heard one of them say: “New batch comes in Friday. We’ll meet at the skate park. Keep it quiet, same price.”
Mia’s pulse quickened. She knew what they were talking about. Drugs had started creeping into her school and some of her classmates had already been caught up in it.
She wanted to ignore it. She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard anything. But she couldn’t.
That night, after pacing in her room for an hour, she grabbed her phone and searched for ACT Region Crime Stoppers. It was anonymous—no one would know it was her. Taking a deep breath, she typed: “Possible drug deal happening Friday at the skate park. Two men talking about a new batch coming in. Please investigate.”
She hesitated before hitting send, uncertainty creeping in. But then she thought about her best friend’s brother, who had overdosed last year. About the high school student who had been expelled for carrying something he didn’t even understand.
She pressed send.
Two days later —police had intercepted a major drug deal at the skate park, arresting two known dealers and seizing a stash of illegal substances.
Mia sat in class, listening to the news, knowing she had played a part in stopping it. No one would ever know it was her.
And that was fine.
She had done the right thing.
Fifteen-year-old Alex had always been good at noticing details. His Mum called it a sharp eye; his dad said he should be a detective. He never thought it would actually come in handy—until the day he recognised a face that didn’t belong.
It was a Saturday afternoon and Alex was at the Westfield Shopping Centre with his friends, wandering between stores, joking around. They had just stopped at the food court when he saw him—a man sitting alone near the exit, hood pulled low, glancing around nervously.
Alex’s stomach tightened. The man looked familiar, but not in a good way. Then it hit him.
A few days earlier, he had seen that same face on the news. A “person of interest” in a string of robberies around Canberra. The police hadn’t called him a suspect yet, but they were looking for him. And now, here he was, right in front of Alex.
His heart pounded. Should he say something? What if he was wrong? What if the guy saw him staring?
Alex took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. He opened the ACT Crime Stoppers website and quickly typed a report: “I think I just saw the man from the news. The one police are looking for. He’s at the Westfield food court, wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He keeps looking around like he’s nervous.”
He hesitated for a second before hitting send.
Fifteen minutes later, as Alex and his friends were leaving, he saw two police officers quietly approach the man. They spoke to him for a moment before asking him to stand up. Then, they led him away.
The next morning, the news confirmed it—the man had been wanted for questioning in relation to a string of home robberies. Thanks to a tip, police had located and arrested him.
Alex sat back, a strange mix of pride and relief washing over him. He didn’t need anyone to know it was him who made the call.
He just needed to know he had done the right thing.
And that was enough.
Sixteen-year-old Bingo never thought a single video could put him in such a tough spot. But when a Snapchat story started making the rounds at school, he knew he had a choice to make.
The video showed a stolen car tearing through the streets late at night, tires screeching, the driver laughing as they swerved recklessly around corners. The camera panned to the passenger—someone Bingo recognised immediately.
Mataio.
Mataio wasn’t exactly a friend, but they had classes together. He was always bragging about doing “wild stuff,” but Bingo never thought he’d actually steal a car.
The next morning, everyone was talking about it. Some thought it was hilarious. Others were nervous—what if they crashed? What if someone got hurt?
Bingo couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was coming. If Mataio and his friends got away with it once, they’d do it again. Maybe next time, someone wouldn’t walk away.
He hesitated, then pulled up the Crime Stoppers website.
“A group of kids from my school stole a car and were driving dangerously around Canberra last night. There’s a Snapchat video going around showing them hooning. One of them is named Mataio. Please look into it before someone gets hurt.”
He sent the tip anonymously, his heart racing. He didn’t want to be a snitch, but he also didn’t want to read about a deadly crash on Facebook.
By the next day, police were at the school. They had tracked down the stolen car—ditched behind an abandoned car park. Thanks to the video evidence, Mataio and his friends were caught.
Bingo sat in class, watching as Mataio was called to the office. No one knew who had tipped off the police. But as Bingo glanced out the window, he felt something unexpected.
Relief.
Because he had done the right thing.
And that was enough.
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- 1800 333 000
- [email protected]
- ACT Region
Crime Stoppers acknowledges the traditional custodians of Country throughout Australia and their continuing connection to land, culture and community. We pay our respects to elders past and present.
