Shining a Light on the Future for Vulnerable Children

The classroom was bright, colourful, ordered and alive with energy – a stark contrast to the vast dusty beige and confusion of the environment outside the high concrete walls of the school.

Ahmad, with 24 other children, was sitting at a brightly coloured table sticking felt eyes on a plastic plate forming a smiley face. Lifting it up in front of his face he smiled shyly from behind the mask at his Mum, Aaliyah, and she smiled back. Life had changed dramatically for Ahmad and his classmates in the last 4 years. 

Three and a half years ago, as a result of the war coming to her home town in Syria, Aaliyah and her husband had fled their home with a one year old boy. ‘We were scared, our family and friends were being killed by bombs, we didn’t understand what was happening, but we had to leave’. They left everything they owned except what they could carry and crossed the border, (nit as easy as it sounds) with thousands of others, into Jordan.

Today, they live in the Rusaife community, life is difficult, Aaliyah rarely has enough food for the family, which now includes a little girl, but the issue that concerned her most was the wellbeing of her little boy. Ahmad may have only been one when they fled their home in Syria, but Aaliyah believes the things he had seen and heard affected his life - he was withdrawn and quiet. 

But when, twelve months ago, World Vision commenced the NOUR project in Atika School Ahmad was one of the lucky ones. With fifty other children from a waiting list of hundreds Ahmad was selected to join the 2016 intake. Today he attends the preparation classes that will give him the best chance possible to be ready for grade one in the next school intake. In parallel with the Jordanian school curriculum he receives some support through a children’s psychosocial program, and Aaliyah is enrolled in ‘parenting classes’ where she learns some tools to help her support her children to flourish.

Many Syrian refugees live in host communities throughout Jordan. With the huge influx of Syrian’s into Jordan (More than one million people) over the past 5 years, the education system has been overwhelmed. Together with the Jordanian Ministry of Education, World Vision has begun the “NOUR” programme: Arabic for Light, the program will seek “To shine light on the future of vulnerable children, their families and communities”.

The Education component of this multi-sector program will will assist 2,000 refugee and host community girls and boys to access gender and child friendly education. We have established four Early Childhood Care and Development (ECCD) centres in four governorates of Jordan, building forty classrooms and renovating facilities in six schools. World Vision will train 200 teachers in child friendly methodologies and will form ten child parliaments. 

As Aaliyah speaks with us today, she says thank you, over and over again. Her boy smiles, he plays and he is learning – ‘I cannot ask for more’ she says.

#NoLostGeneration : Syria

There are a number of memory and association triggers – the smell that reminds you of Granny, the taste that reminds you of that horrible meal, the song that makes you laugh, or cry. For me, some of those associations now come with the names of countries or cities: Earthquake - Haiti and Christchurch; Typhoon & floods – Philippines and Taiwan; Refugees – Rwanda… One of the other associations has now become Geneva – location of some of the most important talks and opportunity for some of the worlds most oppressed people.

This weekend talks commenced to try and stop the fighting in Syria. Numerous actors from around the globe are sitting in a meeting facilitated by the UN. At this stage one of the opposition parties is refusing to even enter the room unless some of the preconditions are met – including allowing access to Syria for humanitarian workers and stopping the bombing of civilians – seems reasonable. There is a very long way to go, but these talks are the newest and currently best opportunity there is to stop the unimaginable destruction of people and country.

On March 15 this year the crisis will enter its 6th year and among the inconceivable statistics of internally displaced, refugees, starving and dead – there are a total of 5.4 million Syrian children and youth inside Syria (2.1 million out of school) and 1.4 million Syrian refugee children and youth in the five host countries (50 per cent of whom are out of school) – that need educational assistance.

The conflict has taken a tremendous toll on children’s access to educational services and protection.

Children in Syria suffer protracted and multiple displacement, continuous exposure to violence, family separation, chronic psychosocial distress, recruitment into armed groups and economic exploitation. Grave child-rights violations continue to be widely documented, including the killing and maiming of children and attacks on education facilities. In most host countries, refugee parents’ lack of access to legal, safe and decent employment impacts their ability to meet the children’s needs, with negative coping mechanisms such as child labour and early marriage on the rise.

On Thursday, in London, another conference will get underway; “Supporting Syria and the Region” will bring together international donors, including Australia. Hopefully these donors will commit to supporting the crisis.

Among the agenda items, is the hope to create a long-term commitment on education for Syria and the region to avoid a lost generation of children and youth through a total ask of US$1.4 billion. Around 4 million Syrian and affected host-community children and youth (aged 5-17 years) need to have access to, and learn in, safe, inclusive and quality formal and non-formal certified learning opportunities. In particular, the objective is to reach 1.7 million Syrian refugee and affected host-community children and youth in the five host countries with a total cost of US$0.9 billion, and 2.1 million out-of-school children inside Syria with a total cost of US$0.5 billion. Specific attention will be given to post-basic education opportunities that increase life skills for employability and social cohesion.

A whole generation of children and youth is at risk of losing hope. Education is key for their survival and preparation to rebuild a peaceful Syria. Failing to provide adequate funding would have an immensely negative impact on their future, that of the region and beyond.

Looking for something to pray for this week? Pray for these conferences and for the people that are hoping this time will make a difference.

Why Sri Lankan Children in North Drop Out

Ramadhas, a father of two girls, returned home in mid-2010, but was forced to take his oldest daughter out of school when he was no longer able to provide for his family with the meager money he earned from his small vegetable garden.

“About a year after we returned, we had hardly any money, but there was a good market for scrap metal that could be collected. She skipped classes and came with me to collect metal,” he said. The father and daughter team earned just over $2 for every kilogram of scrap they collected, much of it left over from the war. But since then the scrap metal market has become less lucrative. His daughter, now 14, has started doing odd jobs instead and he doesn’t know whether she will ever return to school to complete her education.

Although he doesn’t want his other daughter to leave school, the prospects don’t look good. “I have given up farming. Now I also work as a labourer, and the family income depends on what she makes,” he said.

$ 1.25 a Day

Sri Lankan authorities have expressed concern over an increasing number of reports that children are dropping out of school in the conflict-affected north, where economic pressure and poor prospects are creating conditions that could have negative consequences for the future development of the region.

Most of the dropouts are from poor families who find it difficult to make ends meet as humanitarian assistance dries up almost five years after decades of civil war ended. This situation is being aggravated by an acute lack of job opportunities and a rising cost of living.

“It’s a vicious cycle,” said Sivalingam Sathyaseelan, Secretary to the provincial Ministry of Education. “The main reason is the lack of jobs. There is no money in these families, and they need everybody that can work, to work,” Sathyaseelan told IRIN. “They are able-bodied and can find odd jobs or agricultural work more easily,” so there is growing pressure on children in their early teens, mostly at secondary school level, to leave the classroom.

The top public official in Kilinochchi District, Rupavathi Keetheswaran, the government agent, agreed. She described the situation for the estimated 40,000 households in the north that are headed by women, or those families with disabled members, as particularly dire, saying, “Sometimes the children don’t have any option but to work. There is no one else to make money for the family.”

According to the International Labour Organization (ILO), these children generally find work doing temporary or manual jobs such as unskilled labourers in construction projects or on farms. “Sometimes the kids would just wander [around] ‘til they find odd jobs,” said Ramalingam Sivaparasgam, the ILO national project coordinator, who noted that some children work for as little as USD 1.25 per day.

Skewed Assertions & Lack of Data

A study released in January by the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF), analyzing out-of-school children in four countries - Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka - says the island nation has close to universal participation in primary and lower secondary schooling, with just 0.07 percent of all primary and lower-secondary school-aged children not in school.

However, the data did not cover the districts of Jaffna, Mannar, Kilinochchi, Mullaitivu and Vavuniya, which comprise the Northern Province, where the final days of conflict were fought out. “It is important to remember that the Sri Lankan data excludes five districts in the North where conflict took place, and rates of school exclusion are known to be higher than average,” the report points out.

Children living in the conflict-affected northern and eastern areas of the country have lower school participation than the national average, particularly in lower-secondary education, the report conceded, with child labour cited one reason for dropouts.

Older children and young adults were motivated to drop out because jobs commensurate with high school or university graduation levels were very hard to find. “They have to settle for manual labour jobs if they remain in the region, so why not take them [out of school] now?” said Sathyaseelan, the top provincial education official.

This is particularly true in the more remote, interior areas of the region, where facilities and job opportunities are often non-existent, and little investment is taking place. “There are no private enterprises, [and] very few government offices in the villages. The only thing that is there, is construction of houses or farm work,” government agent Keetheswaran confirmed.

According to ILO, the longer a child stays away from the classroom, the harder it is for them to catch up. “There are no night classes or extra classes for such dropouts right now. Without such assistance they find it extremely difficult to re-join their studies,” Sivaparasgam said.

But without targeted programmes to identify drop-outs and help them, there is also no effective way of persuading them to return to school. “More so when money is very hard to come by for families,” he said.

[Sourced & edited from: http://www.irinnews.org/report/99606/why-sri-lankan-children-in-north-drop-out]

Sabra goes to School Now

“Every morning when my brother used to get ready for school and walk out of home with books, I used to cry over my fate. I asked myself, ’Why am I a girl?’ I used to think that if I had been a boy then I would have been blessed with the most precious gift in the world – education.” (Sabra, 14  years old)

Sabra’s village has a primary school that is located less than 10 kilometres from one of the largest universities in the province. Despite that, Sabra’s story is the same as that of most girls and women in Pakistan who are still bound by traditions which limit their access to an education: because they are girls.

In Sabra’s village women have had little to do with anything outside the home. It is assumed that every girl will be a housewife and that they will look after the home; so girls don’t need to go to school. Across the country, girls’ enrolment in both primary and secondary school still lag behind those of boys.

But things were to change for Sabra: we would never wish for disasters, but sometimes these events can create opportunities. When Sabra’s village was badly affected by flood, a Child Friendly Space (CFS), or ‘tent classroom’, was erected. (These ‘tents’ aim to help children regain a sense of normality and stability after losing their homes and routines during emergencies. They provide both formal and informal learning, including life skills and child rights.)

Paradoxically whilst the flood wreaked havoc, it opened the door to education for Sabra. Villagers saw our female staff visiting regularly and teaching women and girls about health and hygiene. For many girls and women this was their first contact with formal education and it marked the beginning of many changes in the community’s thinking, including challenging some of the barriers to women’s access to education.

People began to appreciate that education for girls is as important as it is for boys. They realized that women are not born to remain at home. But, perhaps even more importantly, they learned that even if they preferred to stay home, education could raise their awareness of things which could help in daily life, such as self-protection and health.

“I used to force my mother to talk to my father about my education, but she couldn’t manage to talk to him on this. I was burning from the inside every day. I wanted to gain an education but my age was passing and it was creating more barriers for me to convince my parents,” Sabra remembers.

Sabra’s Mum, Bakhtawar says: “I knew my Sabra’s passion for education. But, as she was getting elder day by day, it became hard for me to ask for her to be enrolled in school. It was next to impossible when you [face] thinking like: ‘if girls and women go into school then who will take care of the house and the cattle?’ But thanks to God. You arrived in our village and talked about the gender equality which gave us confidence to talk to our men and they also realized that there is no difference between men and women. All these things lead us towards the new beginning and took us on the path of enlightenment”.

When parents saw that their children were happy about attending the ‘tent classes’ and noticed dramatic changes in their behaviour - such as improved personal hygiene - they were convinced.

The project is finished now, our staff have left the village, but almost every girl in the village is going to school and instead of reverting back to how things were before the flood, the village is running their own child protection centre.

Over 300 children, including 134 girls, have been registered in the child friendly space and most girls who are now of school age, including Sabra, are enrolled in local government schools.

“I want to become a doctor and it’s my dream to serve my community,” says Sabra. Her Mum couldn’t be prouder: “I don’t know how far Sabra will go to pursue her dream, but I am happy that a ray of brightness has been lit, which has put an end to a darkness we’ve been facing for centuries.”

Some Pakistan Statistics:

• Literacy –Males: 69%, Females: 46% (Rural - 63% & 35%)
• Primary School Enrolment (age 5-9) –Boys: 69%, Girls: 56% (Rural - 76% & 59%)
• Secondary School Enrolment (age 6-16) – 80%. Boys: 64%, Girls: 36%
• Out of school (age 3-5) – 57%
• Illiterate Mothers – 66%

 (Edited from a story by: Jatoi Attaullah)

Snakes and Schools

The turboprop touched down very smoothly at 9:00pm on Tuesday, the crew welcomed us to Sukkur and announced it was 32C and as the rear door opened the hot air consumed the canned cool air – if I’d known that was the last cool air I would inhale for a while I would have breathed more deeply.

One of the most volatile issues in Pakistan at the moment that is causing protests and riots is the power load shedding. With inadequate power for the ever increasing demand, it has been ‘normal’ during summer, for the power grid to be shut down for an average of 2-3 hours per day. But this year some places are being shut down for between 10-15 hours – Sukkur is one of them. It’s okay for those that can afford generators and the fuel to run them, but for the majority of people – on a 40C+ day – it is becoming intolerable, and they are letting the government know about it – so the government has set up a committee to discuss it!

I have spent the past two days travelling around Sukkur looking at single and two room schools that are part of the Education program: My Teacher, My Role Model. Designed to make learning a “joyous experience” the program seeks to up skill teachers, eradicate corporal punishment, advocate for the implementation of education policy and in some cases (where necessary) refurbish schools to make them places where both students and teachers want to be.

One of the main issues for these rural schools, particularly for girls, is the lack of washroom facilities, in the past parents have kept their children home. But in these two days I have heard stories of parents and teachers who, having learned of the policies, are going to education officials and insisting on the facilities that are mandated by policy to be provided, and government officials are responding. It’s a longer story, and a little more complicated: but the result, after only 5 months, is that in most of the schools where these initiatives have been implemented student attendance has increased on average 20% and teachers are enthusiastic.

Arriving at the Central Primary school this morning I was greeted by the Assistant District Officer (Education) and two snake charmers. This school, like the rest I visited, is (mostly) a happy place despite the fact that due to power load shedding most schools are without any electricity: in a concrete classroom, on a 40C+ day – it is hot, stinking hot! But the achievements are clearly evident, here like everywhere else, kids want to learn, and parents want them to. Little girls speak of their hope to be doctors, teachers and judges; little boys announce that they will be soldiers, presidents and policemen.

Driving around Sukkur makes me wonder if I have landed in some bizarre movie. It’s like being in a giant sandpit with mud and brick, grey/brown buildings. Camel and donkey carts vie for right of way with ornately (gaudily) decorated and dangerously overloaded trucks and motorbikes, on roads where dodgem seems appropriate to describe the rules. In contrast to the sand and beige an overload of colours worn by women splashes around the peripherals.

Just outside the city acres of land are lined with date palms loaded with fruit, but then with the blink of the eye they’re gone and the landscape is replaced by sand dunes topped by an ancient fort, an ornate mosque, or a quarry.

“This is real Pakistan” says my host, “the real people live here, they are poor, they are forgotten and they are hungry – not just for food, but for education, because they know the only way to change Pakistan is to educate their children.”

I Think I am 9

8:00am this morning, as I headed out to Rawalpindi, the sun was already beating down from a clear blue sky, the temperature was just topping 33C on its way to a top of 41C for the day.

Some of the children I was going to meet at Drop-In Centre (DIC) 2, had already been at work for three hours when I set out. By the time we arrived at the Centre at 9:00am they had finished work for the morning, washed up and arrived at the DIC. The kids will spend 2 hours in the DIC and then some will go back to work.

The DIC is a two storey building in the back narrow, grey concrete streets of Rawalpindi just around the corner from the main produce market, (where many of the children work with their parents). The walls are decorated with the children's artwork: a 2 times table made out of scrap paper cups, the Urdu alphabet outlined by beans - "we are a 'green' school" says one of the teachers, "we use scrap from the streets and market for the children to learn".

Despite the heat outside it is not too bad with the fans going inside. The children are remarkably clean for street working kids, their skin clear. The DIC health officer and teachers hammer home the importance of washing their hands and faces - it seems to be having an effect. But despite the message of treating water for drinking most children tell us that it doesn't happen at home - 'because mum and dad can't afford the wood or gas to boil water'.

I had the chance to spend some time with four remarkable children: three boys: two 11 year olds and one disarmingly cute and front toothless who told me he was "somewhere between 5 and 7", and his sister who told me, "I am smaller than him, but older; I think I am 9". (Over 50% of children in Pakistan are stunted, source FAO.)

Some of the things we found out, the questions that were asked, and answers given include:

1. The two 11 year olds help their family by picking rags. They start work early, while its cool, finish to come to the DIC, and will go back later in the evening.
2. Mother-melter and Toothless helps his dad in the vegie market by bagging produce.
3. Mother-melter with huge eyes sells Mum/Home made snacks from a small table on the street near home, (her little sister joins her)
4. What do you like about the DIC? "The teachers and staff are nice, friendly - and we love learning."
5. These children are all from large families: between 7-9 siblings. They wish that they're brothers and sisters could learn to read and write too.
6. If you could do anything you wanted to when you are older, what would you do? I'll be a Doctor. I want to be a teacher. I want to drive a car. I want to be a Policeman.
7. If you could have anything you wanted today, what would you ask for? "For my Mum and Dad to have work, so that I don't have to pick rags and I can go to school." "For my Dad's stall to be closer to home, because the Market is too hot".

The hope of this DIC is that over the next 3 years about 600 children will pass through the centre where they will receive a basic education before being accepted into mainstream, full time schooling. Their parents will receive some training to improve their income and learn about child rights. The community will work together to protect their children and decrease the need for their children to work.

These children grow up quickly, there is not a lot of time or energy for fun and games - but every now and then harsh reality can be pushed aside and kids are kids. Here in the DIC they laugh, they sing, they dance, they draw - and they poke faces at strange people.

AQEEL CAN READ

“I opened my eyes in an ultra-poor family who are unable to afford my expenses of treatment, medicine and education. Whenever I asked them to send me to school they answered that we can’t afford to send you to school and you also have a weak eye sight” says Aqeel Ashraf, a student of Drop-In-Center Kasur, Pakistan.

 Aqeel lives with his five siblings and parents in a small, one room house, in miserable conditions in Karma Abad colony of district Kasur. He could not attend school because of poverty and his week eye-sight.

While visiting with working children, the project team found Aqeel at home where he was fetching lunch for his Dad. Aqeel works in a small shoe making factory with his father. The Project team spoke to his mother about the need of good health and education for Aqeel. She replied that Aqeel can’t read and write properly, and "also he is not normal as other children are as he cannot see in sunshine". She said that her husband will decide about Aqeel’s education and health.

Aqeel shuts his eyes in sun light but in darkness/shadow he can see well. Aqeel has three brothers and two sisters. All his siblings are doing labour work. His elder brother Adeel and younger brother Shakeel are also employed in the shoe factory; while his mother and two sisters do embroidery work.

After a number of visits with the parents, Aqeel visited the DIC in November 2011 and registered in Level 1. His father initially showed reluctance to send him to the DIC. When Aqeel came to DIC, he was not able to read and write. The project team met Aqeel’s father who shared that Aqeel’s eye sight is weak and the doctor had advised on glasses. The team suggested another eye sight check-up. His father, Muhammad Ashraf, shoe maker by profession, initially had reservations, but sent his son.

Aqeel was promoted to Level 2, he can now read and write, and acknowledges the Project teams efforts that brought a positive change in his life. The DIC teachers have taught him according to his ability and the psychologist gave psychosocial support to improve his personality. His father also acknowledges that Aqeel can read and write and wants him to continue his studies. He promised to have another eye sight check-up of Aqeel. His father also wishes to go to Karachi for proper treatment of his son but needs financial assistance.

“I did not realize the importance of education which is the fundamental right of every child” he says.

Aqeel’s parents are now motivated and want him to continue his education and enjoy good health. Aqeel has been identified for mainstreaming into the government school at the end of March, 2012. The Project team has held meetings and given awareness to the Principal and teachers of Government School’s about the importance of education for all children (boys and girls) so that they have the opportunity of a bright future.

In the DIC children learn about their rights and responsibilities and are taught personal hygiene and other health, environment issues. Children who have attended the DIC know their rights and speak on them and their responsibilities with their families and friends.

Aqeel is happy that he got an opportunity to study like his friends and now he is going to join a Government school for formal education. His father has said that very soon he will go to hospital for his proper checkup of eye sight.

(Story: Saif Ullah Khalid, GTO, Kasur, Pakistan)

Masha'Allah: God Has Willed It

Today we saw the difference 9 months, a little hope and a lot of love and acceptance can make. When the Street Kids project started last year the staff went onto the streets and spoke with parents of children between 7 and 10 years of age who were working to help make ends meet in the household.

They invited 100 of these children to be part of a new pilot program that, in partnership with the Afghan Government's Ministry of Education, aims to give working children a chance to have the same advantage that any other child calls a right.

After classes in literacy and numeracy, training in life skills and health checks they sat a Year 3 school admission test: 93 of them passed! This afternoon we had the privilege, with the Deputy Governor of Herat and a number of other important people of celebrating their success.

Nine months ago a little boy crept into the building with his Dad, he was shy, he was dirty and he was frightened. He was coming for his first interview with a counselor and after a while of ice breaking, he was asked what he hoped to be when he grew up. He laughed - what a ridiculous question to ask a street kid - he knew that like his Dad this was his life, this was all there was.

The counselor persisted and asked him to dream; eventually he bowed his head into his chest, stared tentatively at his feet and mumbled, "I want to be a poet". He waited to be laughed at, but the counselor raised his head, looked into his eyes, and said "Will you let us help you be a poet".

Today the same little boy stood at the front, clean and healthy, dressed in a nice uniform, his head held high, his eyes looking at unseen words, his actions rehearsed but strong, and, with impressive lungs sung a Dari poem in front of a couple of dozen 'important people'. The counselor that met him that first day looked away with tears in her eyes. The boy finished, smiled at his audience - and took a deep breath. Masha'Alla.

Our vision for every child, life in all its fullness; 

Our prayer for every heart, the will to make it so. 

Masha'Allah is an Arabic phrase that expresses appreciation, joy, praise or thankfulness for an event or person; it's an acknowledgement that all good things come from God.

Maslakh Refugee Camp

Maslakh Housing, NOT Ruins

On the road to Iran, just a few kilometres outside of Herat, just beyond the vibrant blue house of "the 4 brothers" (known smugglers), lies a suite of derelict, pastel coloured buildings. They stand out for a couple of reasons: they are a striking contrast to the vast nothingness of the desert that lies beyond, and they are known as Maslakh, the slaughterhouse. 

Before the Taliban era, this was the site of perhaps the busiest abattoir in Afghanistan – but in the last year of the Taliban, about 11 years ago it became famous for something else. Around it grew the largest refugee camp in the world with reportedly 350,000 people living in horrible conditions. Refugees from drought, ethnic violence and civil war the people came from all over the west and north to the relative safety of Herat.

Today there are only 30,000 people in the camp. As you look to the right of the road (travelling towards Iran) you see in the distance a magnificent, rugged, mountain range reaching into the clouds and from the base of these mountains to the road the desert is littered with the remains of adobe constructions that housed and protected a multitude of frightened people.

I couldn’t help staring in awe at the mountain ranges and wondering about the words of Psalm 121; “I look to the [mountains] where does my help come from?” and contrasting those words, which roll so easily off the tongue, with the life reality of the refugees that slept beneath them.

The children have nowhere to play in this desert, the teenagers and young adults have no jobs to hope for. The school is an old clinic with 7 rooms, (each about 15m2). There is an enrolment of 3,000 lucky children, (there’s no room for the other 3,000) and an average class size of 90; the boys in the morning and the girls in the afternoon.

Many of the children from 8 years old up work on the streets in the city, or make adobe bricks, to help their families survive. Most of the men and teenage boys go into the city looking for day work. But the parents would give up the extra income for school.

In the near future we hope to do something to help the children. Simplistically: our goal is to implement a project that will bring community based schooling to the kids that are currently missing out. We plan to train local school graduates, boys and girls, and engage existing teachers in the community and equip them to run “home” based schools. Parallel to this we are going to look to deliver literacy classes for adults.

When you look at the extent of the camp, and consider the number of people, this sounds like a drop in the ocean – but, in a desert, at least it’s water!