In 2002, the International Labour Organisation (ILO) set 12th June aside as a day to highlight the plight of children labourers the world over who are deprived of education, health and basic freedoms, violating their rights.
The theme this year was: “Human rights and social justice: let’s end child labour”. Call me cynical but I’ve always been sceptical about days commemorating issues or people whose rights have been abused in any way. Let’s face it: how many of the children whose lives are being blighted by child labour – whether it’s hazardous or not- realise that the 12th June has been set aside for the past 10 years to discuss their plight.
According to latest figures from the ILO; whilst other regions have seen a decrease in child labour, sub-Saharan Africa (SSA) has seen an increase. One in four children in the region are child labourers more than half of that in hazardous work that violate their human rights and hamper their mental, physical, emotional and psychological development.
One of the views that I’ll keep harping on about in this post and subsequent ones is that there are real people behind the statistics and “well-intentioned grand plans”. Having read some accounts of some of the true stories behind the sensational headlines; the following is a fictional account based on true events. The story is of a boy called Hamza originally from Niger now working on a cocoa plantation in Ghana. He has been working there roughly for over 3 years alongside his sister Fatima.
I can still remember that morning; my mother woke me and my sister up earlier than she normally did – in fact it was still dark outside. I was frightened but I put on a brave face since I’ve had to be the man of the house since my father died the year before. We had to drop out of school as my mother could barely afford to feed the six of us – most days we only ate once a day and we just had to drink water to fill up our bellies the rest of the time.
With tears streaming down her face, my mother told us that she met 2 men in the village square who promised to give us domestic work in Ghana that we’ll get to go to school and be fed in exchange for our services. She said she couldn’t just sit and watch us starve to death without doing something about it. She told us how much she loved us, hugged us both and said she will have to pray very hard that we won’t come to any harm. A couple of older women in the village told her that in order to do right by us, she needed to think of our future rather than her wish as a mother to keep us with her.
Needless to say – that was the beginning of the nightmare that we have lived for a long time now. I had just completed the first grade when my father died now I can barely write my own name. My sister has never been to school. We have been stuck on this plantation since about a week after we left home. No-one knows for sure how old Hamza is but it is estimated he must have been about 9 years old and his sister about 6 when they arrived at the plantation. This means that he’s about 12 years old but he looks 4 years younger – the signs of malnourishment clearly evident. He has so many cuts all over his body and scars he got from beatings for begging to be returned home to his mother in the early days following his arrival. Now he feels that he will never see his mother or other siblings ever again. As for his sister, she doesn’t speak anymore – no-one can even begin to comprehend the depth of trauma that has robbed her of speech. As for the promise of education and a better life – that’s just a fantasy – it won’t ever happen says Hamza. I hope I don’t die here but it’s looking like a real possibility; Fatima is like a ghost now, she doesn’t talk to me anymore – she’s just going through the motions. Even if I leave this place, where can I go? I barely speak the local language here and my own language – Hausa - is rusty. I can’t read or write my own name; of what use am I to society apart from working in this place? Hamza concluded. The sorrow on his face palpable and heartrending…
The above story shows that the issue of child labour in Africa is more complex and multi-faceted than what the headlines can convey.
• The despair and desperation that drives a widowed mother to hand over her children to strangers because she can’t see any other way out of starvation.
• The lack of proper registration of births and deaths hence millions of undocumented or what I’ll call a missing generation of children
• The trauma and psychological impact of horrendous abuse that scar children emotionally for a long time or even for life
• Childhood and innocence lost – children robbed with little hope of redress or recompense….
I could go on and on but I won’t. I do hope I’ve given you food for thought and challenged some of the myths or views that you might have had about child labour in SSA. You will be hearing more from me on this issue in the coming months.
Until next time………..
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