Sorrows of neglected rural children

by Amal HEWAVISSENTI

"A child, more than all other gifts

That earth can offer to declining man,

Brings hope with it, and forward looking thoughts."

Above are the much quoted lines from Wordsworth's Pastoral Poem "Michael" which underlines the extent to which a child is valued by parents. Needless to say the long and the short of it is that parents naturally consider it a pleasant responsibility to love and protect their child and to turn him into a socially productive ideal person who, if bred well, might reciprocate their love and protection. Yet this popular reality is perfectly contravened by the sheer absence of emotional relationship between parents and children in most present day families, specially rural families as shown by the stunning revelations by children who live in Children's Homes.

Almost all the children living in Children's Homes find themselves unable to recover from emotional bankruptcy and they have brought an unbearable amount of emotional baggage into their lives as a result of parental negligence and lack of guardianship. An array of indefinite social and cultural factors have been conducive to this great social catastrophe in which children are left unprotected, uncared for and unloved. Here are interviews with residents of Children's Homes.

Tragedy

"I was in grade ten when this incident happened. I was kidnapped by four boys while I was on my way from my elder sister's. Luckily I was saved by an uncle who was at work close to the abandoned house. Strangely my father was not moved by this incident. After that day, those guys hanged around our house several times. My father was a heavy boozer. He used to come home late at night and harass my younger brother and two sisters. Mother had no choice but to look on terrified. Having gone under power of liquor, he often scolded and beat my mother and the younger siblings. We were helpless in the face of this inhuman treatment by my father.

Surely he was oblivious about our education and our needs. Most often, my grandma had to buy us books and other needs. The boys came to our house again and again and threatened to kidnap me. Father was not for tough action against them. He didn't even bother to scold them. I pleaded with father to stop them, but he did not seem to care. Instead he harassed us in the dead of night. My mother secretly complained to the police about the boys' conduct and their threats. The court made arrangements to bring me here. Since I came here, my mother and my siblings neither visited me nor made inquiries about my life here. I'm sure I'll never see them again. I too don't want to see them. But I'm very happy here with my new friends. At the same time, I feel my life is worth living though I'm worthless."

These are the selfsame words spoken by a seventeen year old girl now living in a Children's Home in Ratnapura district. On the other hand, these children had a wonderful sense of self respect and they did not like to damage it by speaking their heart out. Strangely enough they display no deviation from their "lucky" counterparts who have parents, who are mingling with the new community of friends and engaging in recreational activities with a balanced mind. Once they have blended in to the new surroundings and the new peer group, they seem to have blanked out, though not completely, the unpleasant memories which would otherwise have left a blanket of depression throughout their lives.

"I was able to go to school only upto grade five" says Nirosha, a fifteen year old girl in the same Children's Home. "I had to give up school education simply because of the economic decadence our family came to. My father is a habitual drunkard. He is a porter by profession but spends everything on alcoholic drinks. He didn't harass us though. I watched, with disbelief, how my father clubbed my mother dead. Mother was gone long before she was hospitalised. Amidst numerous hardships it was she who had managed to maintain our family with the scanty money she had made by mending slippers."

"But after the mother's death, the father began to turn an evil eye on me. On that fateful night, he came to my bed where I was sleeping. He was heavily drunk. However, I managed to break free after a long struggle and ran to my grandfather's house screaming in the pitch darkness. I stayed with my grand parents until I became a burden to them. My grandfather brought me here two years ago. Recently I heard that my two younger sisters too are in another home for children.

Now I study at a school close to the Children's Home. Here I've found good friends who are very sensitive to my problems. But sometimes I'm deeply frustrated when my friends try to dive into my bitter past. I don't have hopes. Madam in the home treats us well. None of our relations visit me, to tell you truth."

That was another tragedy within the life of a destitute girl. It is absolutely painful to note that most unspeakable, most indefinable tragedies have touched on these innocent children against the backdrop of increasing domestic violence. Their frank disclosures show that they frequently have fallen prey to rape attempts by uncles, elder brothers and ruthless fathers whose probity and human reasoning have been driven away beyond bounds by liquor intake or moral bankruptcy. Some others admit to have been ruthlessly exploited by the stepmother when the father is imprisoned for having committed a crime. There are some instances where the mother is desperately struggling to make both ends meet under a situation where the father has re-married or having an extramarital relationship with no thought whatsoever of the maintenance of his legal family. This happens the other way round too. When the mother remarries, the children have to pay the price.

Chaturani, a 16-year-old girl in this Home for the Children gives yet another shocking account of what had befallen her in her early childhood.

"I don't remember my father. I don't know what he was like because he had deserted my mother the very day I was born. Mother said he had settled with another woman living far away from our village. Later he had come with that woman back to our house and appropriated it after driving us away to the adjacent village. To be frank, we lived in abject poverty. An uncle in the village came to live with us. After much protesting mother had to give in because he was a powerful man and he threatened to stop all the means of our income. He himself had five children but he gave us a bit of money to fulfil our daily needs. I had to stop schooling for four years purely because of the predicament we were in. He often spoke to us in abusive language and pressured us to do some work in his own house. My elder sister who was totally uneducated, was doing a small job at a garment factory.

Clear changes

Meanwhile, I saw some clear changes coming over my mother. She began to be much less responsible and lavishly spent what my elder sister earned from her job. Mother was roaming about the village houses and chatting with people the whole day without even thinking about our meals. At last she handed me over to a rich uncle as a child servant in his house. It was there where I was put through a horrific ordeal. Please don't ask me about what I went through in that house. They gave me nothing other than a scanty meal! The eldest son frequently found time to harass me in different ways. After two months I told the uncle that I wanted to go home. He gave me nine hundred rupees and brought me back home. My mother abused me harshly for coming back with such a less amount of money. Finally she brought me here. Ever since, I saw no trace of her or my sister.

I'm sure my mother too has forsaken me for good. Now it is four months since I came to live in this place. The madam is very kind and friendly. I'm happy with my new friends. I started my schooling again. Now I'm in grade 11. My best friend, Nimalka is now at the Cancer Hospital, Maharagama. I have fears about her life because she's my best friend who shared everything with me. I don't really like to go home again. My favourite subjects are Sinhala and Mathematics. My dream is to be a dancing teacher. In retrospect, my life story is a stark nightmare. Misfortune has played its worst on me."

Safe haven

The children in this Home for destitute children vehemently refused to give details at first but after much persuasion, they agreed to acknowledge the repulsive situations which led them to this safe haven. Only girls are seen in the "Home" for the desolate children because boys can grapple with harsh realities of life and they can do certain type of jobs to sustain their lives. Boys naturally do not like to stay in a Children's Home anyway. The warden of the Home says that meals and other needs for the children are donated by all people living around and other donors from far off areas. The most afflicting truth currently surrounding these children is that normal students at school slightly reject these desolate children, thus creating an indefinite barrier between the two groups. When these innocent children are praised by teachers for their excellent performance, the normal students rise against them and create an unwholesome atmosphere in the classroom which surely precipitate the desolate children for the second time. The warden says she has informed the teachers about this situation so that the school management can take remedial measures to facilitate a good atmosphere in the classroom for both parties.

The last respondent in our survey is a ten-year-old girl who has spent the longest time span in the Children's Home.

She recalls, "My father was shot dead in a serious brawl, by a rowdy man in the village. I myself saw it but had no thought about the gravity of it because I was too small then. I have an elder sister two elder brothers and a younger brother.

One of the elder brothers had joined a liquor brewer and did not care for us. He did not want to come home. A few months later, mother deserted us all by eloping with an outside businessman who came to our village off and on to buy empty bottles and pieces of rusted iron pieces. Mother's whereabouts was a complete secret to us though my elder sister made a lot of futile attempts to track her.

Then our aunt took us all to her house. There she gave us food and worn clothes but we had to do everything for her and her children. Sometimes we had to keep awake far into the night until uncle came home. My eldest brother fled the house and worked as a bus conductor. I don't know where he is now. Suddenly I fell ill. After a few days, the aunt brought me here. This is a very good place. I have many friends. I know nothing about my elder sister and younger brother. They never visited me."

All these children who spoke above, represent the ocean of suffering and untold hardships within the life of desolate children in our society. How about others who have got no chance to receive protection in a Children's Home? Assuredly there are thousands of desolate children entrapped in the eternal hell of life dominated by drunkards, rapists, unfeeling mothers and malevolent stepmothers. Once interviewed, they may speak out incredibly pathetic life stories where they have been subjected to ruthless exploitation, molestation torture both physical and emotional. Therefore, Children's Homes are a sinequa non which house, and extend the arms of love and protection for the desolate children whose potential might be far greater in implementing community projects. "However currently there is a highly favourable trend in society for supporting and encouraging Children's Homes throughout the country and the government has taken a praiseworthy step forward in funding and facilitating Children's Homes" says a warden of a Home for the children. "We can take better care of these children. But their parents, if any, do not take the trouble to visit and speak a few words to these children," she says.