World Street Children News

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August 1, 2006

In Baghdad, street kids live on petrol smuggling

Filed under: Iraq Streetkid News

In Baghdad, street kids live on petrol smuggling

Fuel shortage in capital of one of world’s most oil rich countries supports generation of street kids.

By Patrick Fort – BAGHDAD

A chronic fuel shortage in Baghdad, capital of one of the world’s most oil rich countries, has created a black market for petrol which sustains a growing population of dirty-faced street kids.

Along the pavements of the Saadun Avenue, cutting through the centre of the Iraqi capital, dozens of children siphon petrol into cars from five gallon drums, using funnels made of soda bottles and lengths of garden hose.

On the other side of the street, a once prosperous thoroughfare now marred by razor-wire, concrete barricades and shuttered shops, motorists queue for up to five hours to buy subsidised petrol at official rates.

Those who have the cash, but no time to wait, can ask kids like 13-year-old Mohammed Riyad to fill their tanks on the spot for 15,000 dinars (10 dollars) for five gallons (20 litres), more than twice the official price.

Prices may be cheap by western standards, but Iraq boasts the world’s second largest confirmed oil reserves and its population expects access to fuel.

Violence and underinvestment have damaged the pipeline and refinery network, leaving the country partly reliant on imported refined products, and smugglers exploit state subsidies to re-export cheap fuel to Iraq’s richer neighbours.

Oil minister Hussein Shahristani says Iraq produces 10 million litres of petrol and imports seven million litres per day, whereas the market sucks up 22 million and distribution is hit by "terrorism and administrative corruption."

This is a view shared by many Baghdad motorists such as taxi driver Hussein Shefik, who says he cannot afford black market rates and instead passes much of his time in long queues exposed to possible bomb attacks.

"We’re here because there are more thieves than citizens in Iraq. It’s the land of Ali Baba. In Egypt, petrol is half as expensive as it is in Iraq," he declared, with only slight exaggeration.

The average price for a litre of petrol at an Iraqi service station is 50 US cents. In Egypt it costs around 22 US cents per litre.

The government has vowed to tackle the problem and root out corrupt officials within its own ranks, but in the meantime the shortage has created a minor economic boom for Baghdadi children as young as six.

The smallest fuel traders struggle to manoeuvre the large plastic fuel drums that mark each team’s pitch along Saadun Street. Mohammed has the help of his 16-year-old brother and the blessing of his father, who let him quit school.

At night, the older brother gets himself to the head of a petrol queue in order to get the first subsidised deliveries in the morning. The stocks are then hidden just back from the street, and Mohammed touts for trade.

Business is good, but not without its risks.

"Once, three guys in a Mercedes asked for 40 litres. I emptied my first drum, and when I said I was going to fetch another, they pushed me over and took off," he said part way trough his 13-hour roadside shift.

Nearby, it is the same story for 16-year-old Ali Kassem and his older brother, who also does the nightshift queue. Like Mohammed, Ali has given up his studies and now spends up to 15 hours a day serving nervous drivers.

"That’s how it is," he sighs, squinting against the hot, dusty wind coming down the street. "I’ve got no choice, we’ve got to do this to survive."

There are no official figures on how many young Iraqis are selling petrol for cash, but UNICEF estimates that only around 60 percent of Iraqi children attend school.

Many of those who have dropped out since the outbreak of the US-led war in 2003 take low-paying jobs in order to earn money for their families.

Cuttino’s Georgian Life: Placement time

Cuttino’s Georgian Life: Placement time

(blog entry)
"I will be placed in a non-profit called “Biliki” (Georgian for “path”). It runs a shelter for street children, refugees and disabled kids [in Gori]. I got to spend the past three days at their office and was very impressed. They have a newly-renovated building with all the perks of a Western office. There are 23 employees, including two psychologists, a social worker, a nurse, teachers, and an IT technician. Biliki is currently serving about 150 children in the Gori area. My job will be to help them improve their organization and expand their services. Check out the Biliki website. Keep in mind that the English site is a work in progress—one of my tasks will be to fix that—but at least the picture gallery is nice."

City tackles issue of homeless children

City tackles issue of homeless children
14:01′ 01/08/2006 (GMT+7)

Street kids should be better educated on the dangers that surround them, a conference held by the department of Education and Training and the city’s Street Children Management last month was told.


The charity classes combine education with life skills and vocational training to impart street kids with the ability to live better and earn more.

According to estimates by the Ministry of Labour, Invalids and Social Affairs (MOLISA), the number of street children in Vietnam is estimated to be around 23,000, including 1,500 in Hanoi and nearly 9,000 in HCM City.

Le Thi Hong Lien, vice director of HCM City’s Education and Training Department said that children who work and live on the streets face danger as they lack education and are unaware of health risks and basic rights.

"Street kids are mainly children who migrate to the city and need to be educated to better protect themselves from dangers that they don’t even know exist," Lien said.

HCM City’s Education and Training Department co-operated closely with the local Population, Family and Children Committee and city schools to organise over 500 evening classes for street children in 189 schools.

The department even organised classes right in the railway stations and markets where they live.

The charity classes combine education with life skills and vocational training to impart street kids with the ability to live better and earn more.

"We also helped kids to take up vocational training programmes which bolster their skills in weaving, hair styling or vehicle mechanics," Lien said.

She added that with such a dangerous lifestyle, life skills also educated them on the risks of a life on the streets, including sex abuse and drugs.

To help street children raise their awareness about dangers of HIV/AIDS and teenage pregnancy, the educarionsector has co-operated with other organisations like the Youth Union, the Women’s Union and the Committee for Population, Family and Children to set up teams of social workers to impart vital knowledge to children.

To support kids who actually attend the education sessions, city’s authorities and the education sector have also encouraged other organisations and benefactors to provide them with study aids and scholarships.

In Binh Tan District, the Population, Family and Children Committee provided VND20mil (US$1,250) for 100 street children to attend schools and gave VND5mil (US$313) as vocational training fees for 5 street children in the 2005-06 school term.

For street children without proper identification, HCM City authorities instructed judiciary offices in all districts to comply with the necessary formalities for them to go the city’s schools.

Shortcomings remain

Educators and provincial authorities have committed efforts to create favourable conditions for street children to attend schools. However, Lien said educating street children is a difficult task.

At the conference, Le Thi Hoa, vice director of the Department of Education and Training in the central coastal province of Khanh Hoa said that financial issues and poor management were limiting what could be accomplished in terms of training for street kids.

"Capital to implement charity classes is limited, leaving most classes that do get up and running without teaching aids and textbooks, and kids cannot always attend as they must work to live," she said.

Hoa said another complicating factor was the fractured level of education among street kids, of which, some have graduated from primary school, while others have never attended a class.

She said that fact made it hard to organise classes, as financial limitations meant that kids of different education have to study together.

To improve the quality of charity classes, Hoa suggested that schools need to better classify students during intakes, prior to enrolment.

Vu Thi My Hanh, principal of District 3-based Luong Dinh Cua primary school said that educators, need to create a friendly and safe environment for street children to attend school.

"Educators also need to organise extra-curricular activities like music concerts and summer caps," said Hanh, adding it gives street kids a chance to integrate into a social community.

Lien added to ensure the quality of study, educators should tighten co-operation with kids’ families and encourage them to let their children attend school.

(Source: Viet Nam News)

A Street Child Named Desire

(Blog entry) 

A Street Child Named Desire


This one is about street children who have on many an occasion amazed me with their innate knack to take delight in life’s little pleasures. Maybe it has something to do with their uncanny awareness of the rough rides that life has in store. May be not. For I don’t think it is in any way a conscious, keenly planned out behavior pattern. Spontaneous and instinctive – it certainly is. And that’s what makes each moment I mention here, undeniably beautiful.

Scene 1: I pass by in a car through a crowded city street, lined with garment stores, toy shops, flower stalls, fast food joints and supermarkets, interspersed with busy traffic signals. Suddenly my eye catches a glimpse of a street urchin, a little girl about 4 years, barely clothed, waiting to cross the road with her young, shabbily dressed, work weary mother.

Twisted though the little finger of her scrawny hand is the slender white thread of a heart shaped balloon. The red balloon is fluttering in the wind, sailing high, bouncing up and prancing about in a soft pirouette like motion.

On her face, beneath a pair of sunken eyes and awkwardly protruding cheek bones is the most heart warming cheerful smile.

Somebody had just gifted the little girl a balloon from the nearby vendor’s. Maybe it was her mother. Maybe it was a kindred soul, a passer-by who just wanted to make her happy with a bonus coin.

I am not sure why it moved me to tears instantly. Maybe it was that I had just come out of a baby store loaded with new toys, clothes and bath supplies for my 1 year old. May be just watching her smile that way, that was so soulful.

Scene 2: This incident got etched in my memory years ago. And to this day it holds reins to a flood of emotions that I revisit often times when the mood strikes.

I stand looking out of the balcony of my new paying guest accommodation, taking in the sights of the quiet neighborhood lane, lined with shrubs and plots profuse with mounds of rubble and garbage piles. This is India, my home country, I think to myself. This is my poverty ridden mother nation.

My thoughts are disrupted by the soft ruffle of garbage bags left ajar in the wind. I turn around to see two poor kids – a little boy and a girl (obviously the younger of the two) - rummaging through the garbage under a shady tree. Something about the little ones made me stare at them shamelessly, though unobtrusively. The boy was amusing his little sister with an old cycle tyre, rotating it with a twig and making it go round and round like a giant wheel, only he was doing a horizontal full circle around the tree. The little girl was busy rummaging through the piles of garbage, but she would pause to look at her brother in amusement. Her giggles were like music played on a lazy Sunday afternoon by the riverside. She would laugh in spontaneous outbursts, then get back to the serious business of opening up her newfound treasure chest. I watched intently as she carried on the hunt, the search for hidden treasures in that garbage mound.

Carefully her little hands sneaked out a juice carton – a half crushed tetra pack in colors that echoed the weather – bright summery orange, lemon green and sunshine yellow. I watched on as she lifted the can and listened to the swishing sound made by the leftover juice, like she was witnessing a mighty wave lash against the sea shore for the first time in her life. Then slowly she peeped inside, tilting her head, mouth open in anticipation of a few magic drops within.

The little boy was watching on too. Then all of a sudden he stopped his pranks and cartwheels and ran over to his sister’s side. He whisked away the carton from her hands in a quick sweep.

For a moment, I thought the magic had ended. I thought I saw his playfulness wane and noticed a spot of greed creep up his hungry eyes. I thought I saw him snatch away those last few drops from his little sister and savour it all by himself, giving in to the pangs of poverty, of hunger and thirst that went unattended to for days in the slum he calls home.

Then I saw something that was to move me to tears for the rest of my life, every time the thought passed my mind.

The boy took the can from the little girl’s hands, cautious not to disturb the contents. He then took a peak inside to see how much of the juice was left, then slowly, carefully took a tiny sip off the top layer. He then rolled it in his mouth like a wine taster and then slowly spit it out. Judging by expression, it looked like he approved of the fine taste.

He then extended his hands and offered the juice can to his kid sister, nodding his head in approval that it indeed was safe for her to drink.

Scene 3: I am buying fruits and fresh vegetables at the local market. En route I stop by to pick up short eats from the grocer’s. As I toy with the idea of cutting down on my shopping list as part of my household expenses reduction plan, a little girl in petticoat and pigtails runs up like a dart, reaches up to the counter on all toes, taps a candy jar with the single rupee coin in her hand (that has obviously changed many hands) and quips:

“Oru Mittayi”

The shopkeeper instinctively dips his hand inside the candy jar, picks up an orange candy and, plonk, settles it down on the counter. The girl promptly picks up the candy and darts off, just as quick as she arrived.

The shopkeeper and I watch her as she disappears into the teeming crowd thronging the marketplace.

He says: You’ll be surprised to see how smart and enterprising these street kids actually are. Every once in a while they come darting here to pick up candy in exchange for the meager earnings of the past hour. They know how to enjoy life! Who says they are poor?!

Robin is back in Bengal

Robin is back in Bengal

(blog entry)
"The street kids on the train with painted mustaches do circus tricks up and down the aisles. A small ball is attached to their hat by a string, whose motion is perpetuated as the boys jiggle their head. When I look into their eyes I see blank. When performing for money their their faces lack all emotion."

Adventures of Oz: Istanbul is Gig.

Adventures of Oz: Istanbul is Gig.

(blog entry)
"I spent a lot of the day today trying to avoid all the street kids who try to sell you fake gucci everything the second they learn that you speak english."

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