Tsunami-hit children: what does the future hold for them?
KUMARI could not have imagined the horror that swept through her coastal home that fateful December day. She would never have dreamt that in a single gush of the sea she would lose both parents and her younger brother.
At 16, Kumari's (not her real name) biggest worry was getting through her O/L year and sitting for the exam at the end of 2005. In a day her world turned inside out. Today, the O/L's are the least of her worries.
She is in the custody of her 75-year-old grandmother, who has no steady income and very few assets. She relives the trauma of the tsunami through recurrent nightmares and has been treated at the Matara hospital's clinic for psychiatric support.
Going back to school has been somewhat a balm -within the protective sphere of the classroom and basking in the warm concern of teachers and friends, Kumari is coming to terms with her loss and regaining some interest in her studies.
"I did not want to live after the tsunami. But my teachers and friends have been kind. There has been a lot of support from my relatives and even many others I do not even know. Some have promised to support my education up to A/Ls. I think I can do my exam in December."
Over a third of the victims of last December's tsunami were children. Many of the survivors lost family members, their homes, their pets, their toys and school books- everything that a child holds precious.
The sympathetic outpouring of help for these children has been one of the most marked and heartwarming aspects of the post-disaster phase. There have been more offers for adoption than there are orphans.
Adoption offers have poured in from distant countries and from people who have never before heard of the Indian Ocean island of Sri Lanka. The National Child Protection Authority (NCPA) was very quick in formulating a series of guidelines and recommendations for treating and caring for the child victims of tsunami.
The need for counseling has been expounded by many an expert and support systems have been- albeit slowly- put in place. Life is still no bed of roses for these young victims, and many are the cases of professed and promised aid not reaching the target children, many are the instances when inappropriate aid has reached the victims.
But if one were to look at attitudes.. and contrast them with the kind of interest shown towards the 'rehabilitation' of other child victims, a clear difference becomes evident.
"Give new life to a Child' is the eye-catching slogan of one newspaper's attempt at coordinating a child sponsorship programme aimed at 'rehabilitating and rebuilding the lives of tsunami devastated children'.
This kind of social programme was not on media corporations' agenda until now. But previously held priorities have all been transformed by the tsunami. Children who have been caught up in what counts as one of the world's worst natural disasters have been described as 'desperate and destitute', and 'battered and helpless'- living as they are in makeshift refugee camps.
They are called the country's future assets and the treasures and the need to 'protect' and 'nurture' these children are paramount in the plans drawn up by the state, by NCPA as well as the Social Services Ministry.
On the other corner of the scale are children abused by society. Children often make the news being rescued from homes that have abused them as servants, from paedophiles that have used them for sexual gratification and from militant groups who have used children as cannon fodder in war.
These children made headline news for the sensational cases they were involved in and the dramatic manner in which they were 'rescued'. Their rehabilitation was thought out in 'hard terms' and often than not, these children were treated as delinquents who needed to be 'mended' and 'corrected', said an official of the Social Services Ministry.
While these ideas are fast losing currency in the new debate over child rights and the manner in which child victims should be treated, the tone of the entire rehabilitation exercise differs greatly between tsunami affected and victims of adult abuse.
In the well-known refugee camp that was burned down in Bindunuwewa, young boy recruits were being rehabilitated alongside adult surrendees and drug addicts.
"Many of the young boys were seen engaged in manual labour inside the camp. One could consider this another form of abuse. It is child labour after all. They also were targets of bullying and aggression from the adult militants," said a one-time regular visitor to the center.
The camp environment was not unlike the militarized, authoritarian environment that the rebel military camps would have provided, he said.
"The only difference being that the children were finally free of the fear of being used in war and they could meet their families.
Another such home for women in Nugegoda had an astounding mixture of women with psychiatric problems, drug abuse, prostitutes, victims of child labour and several underage recruits. This kind of 'rehabilitation' is known to be detrimental to the child's emotional and physical well being. In the end, the victim ends up being 'punished' for another's crime.
There is much being said in the media about protecting the 'dignity' of children affected by the tsunami. The term 'dignity' constitutes not only abiding by the Convention on the Rights and all its incumbent provisions but also ensuring that children left orphaned by the tsunami, do not 'suffer' the fate as other orphans, that they are not subject to degrading forms of exploitation etc.
The NCPA's initial plan for these children envisaged institutions constructed along the lines of hostels in schools to take out the stigma of being put in an orphanage.
However strangely, the term 'dignity' was not an issue earlier with other victims of adult abuse or exploitation. Dignity was not afforded to child prostitutes who were 'arrested' with the paedophiles or child soldiers who surrendered to the forces in the thick of battle. Dignity was not considered a necessity for young teenage girls made pregnant by incestuous relatives.
Take the case of Meera(not her real name) from a remote eastern village. At 19, Meera has lost the use of both her legs. She was among Karuna's cadres when the LTTE attacked last April to regain control of the east.
In the battle Meera, who has been with the movement since 2000, suffered gunshot wounds to both her legs and was left to die. Fortunately for her, her camp was close to Batticaloa town and some sympathetic villagers managed to transport her to hospital.
Since she recovered from the grievous injuries Meera was shuttled between Homes and institutions before ending up in a half-way home for abused children, among teenage pregnancies and victims of child labour.
She is awaiting therapy that would teach her to use her twisted lower limbs and walk without the crutches. "I would like to go home," Meera says.
"But until I learn to walk without the crutches I will only be a burden in the village. I need to work and learn some skills." Until then she keeps herself busy by taking care of the Home's younger inmates. "She is trained and well-disciplined" the Matron says.
For Meera, and other 'UR' (Underage Returnees- in the parlance of the international community) cases in the East and elsewhere in the war zone, dignity has never been an issue of contention.
In fact, many of them become imprisoned at home upon return, as the parental reaction is one of deep fear of re-recruitment mixed with trepidation and some shame.
This is especially in the case of girls. Parents fear that their chances of marriage and living a normal life would be hindered by the exposure to military training. Many are married off against their will.
A mother of a UR case in Jaffna once told me, "I wont let her step out of the compound- even to go the boutique-I cannot afford to lose her again."
While going back to school is emphasized as a therapy for tsunami affected children and many organizations, local and international, are coming forward to see that the children's needs (educational) are being met. The NCPA believes that for children who have lost one or both parents, the familiarity of school, friends, teachers and studies will be a first step towards normalcy.
But for those children who have returned from the ranks of a rebel military, the choice of school is not so appealing. For many of these children, returning to school and education becomes a no-no.
More so, if they have been with the military for two years or over and have to attend classes with much younger kids. Many of the children are recruited before they sit for the crucial O/L exam.
So at the end of their teen years they find themselves without the most basic educational qualifications and without skills. While at their transit center in Kilinochchi, UNICEF has tried to impart some skills and vocational interest into the UR cases before they are sent back home, many are slow to catch up and other slack the opportunities to make use of the acquired skills.
While it is difficult to imagine an outpouring of sympathetic support like that which followed the tsunami for children used in war, or for that matter victims of other forms of abuse, it is important for donors and government institutions in charge of child welfare to remember that all these victims are children- the differences of their victimization merely circumstantial.
Although there cannot be any grudge against the response and quick action (at least intent for quick action) that has gone in to normalizing the life for tsunami victims apply the same yardstick of rehabilitation to other children as well- wherever possible.
It is hoped that the sudden and dramatic interest in child welfare after the disaster will open the eyes of the public, donors and administrators to the plight of other children marginalized by society and that some of this sympathy will trickle down to them.
