Mexico Blog
So what can I say about the kids on the streets?
I really don’t know! I’m naturally disturbed about the things I have seen but it continues to be a huge problem here in Mexico City. Various institutions are working relentlessly to solve the problem with miniscule effect.
Let me give you a few instances.
Behind the very vibrant and decorative billboard was a disturbing story. This was the filthy hovel called home to a group of 4 boys aged between 12 -14 years. We spent about half an hour speaking to these kids who ventured into the street looking for food and water, allowing our photographer time to sneak in and take a few snaps of their abode. Later a couple of them were happy to have their photos taken with us, but another shied away and said that the last time someone took his photo he was later arrested.
Each had a different, yet similar story to tell, having decided that life on the streets was a better option than living at home. An abusive step-father often seemed to come into the equation.
Most of the kids that I encountered on the streets, including these boys were quite frankly out of their minds. A quick glance and you wonder why they have all taken to thumb sucking, then to realise that constantly sniffing of inhalants like activo was the norm. I was amazed to hear that some of them had lived on the street for years, others only weeks, but had become almost instantly addicted. When I asked one girl why she used the stuff, particularly as she had a young baby – which she kindly allowed me to hold – she answered, ‘because it makes me feel happy. I like it!’
My heart wept for two young girls who clearly were great friends with our billboard kids. They seemed to think that hanging around the streets all day with their babies was an acceptable option.
‘We don’t always sleep on the streets. Sometimes we rent a room.’
‘Oh. So that makes all the difference.’ I thought! ‘And where do you get the money to rent a room?’ I dared to ask.
‘We sell stuff like drugs and things. Can you give me some water for my baby? She whispered. ‘ I need some fresh water to make her milk.’
Of course I gave her my bottle of water, but fought back the tears as I nursed the baby and she snorted more activo.
One of the girls admitted being taken off the streets on two occasions, accommodated in an institution for a few weeks, then returned to the streets as the lure and the sense of freedom drew her once again to the patch that, she had been accustomed to for several years. She liked being there because she was near to the baby’s father she said, and he had no intention of leaving the streets.
I want to tell you about Natasha’s story. Natasha is the name I have given to the girl who survived on the streets since she was 6 years old, and is now living in a girl’s hostel. My prayer is that she finds sufficient support and never returns to the streets.
At the age of 6 years she ran away from home. She had constantly been abused by male members of the family and found refuge in a shelter with a group of kids who quickly substituted for her family. Natasha learnt to survive by begging, dressing as a clown and performing tricks. Ultimately, as she grew older, she practiced the art of Faquir, laying on broken glass….which paid well, she said.
What adult in their right mind would pay a child to sprawl their little body across a pile of broken glass? I questioned. I despair!
Natasha said she was never hungry because people were always willing to give her food, especially the market traders and street vendors. She could earn enough money to buy everything that she needed and it was only when she became pregnant that she was persuaded to leave the streets for the sake of her unborn child.
Her story is an unbelievable story of survival. She found facilities to shower, wash her clothes, and for a period of time the kids made their own wash room with tarpaulin covers where they stripped off in turns and washed their bodies with water warmed on a local camp fire.
A few days after meeting these kids I visited an institution which housed 14 ex street girls, all aged between 14 -19 years. Between them they had 11 young children, with others on the way. Spending a couple of hours with these girls who chatted freely, they all appeared to be changing their thinking, to being re-educated to the idea that bringing their children up on the streets was not an option. All these girls were estranged from their families, and although some of them knew where their parents lived they had no intention of re- establishing contact.
One 12 year old, who had been found living in the sewers and was heavily pregnant with twins, lost the babies during birth. I asked if we could meet her but she had run away not long before we had visited the home.
‘She’s gone back to the streets,’ the other girls exclaimed.
We were hearing these stories constantly, and whilst this is not un- common in Mexico City it is a disturbing thought for those of us living in the UK. We need to look after our children and stamp down on abuse before we hear of more youngsters in the U.K running away from home. Don’t lets escalate into a situation like Mexico City.
I heard some awful news today, tweeted by the Children’s Society.
‘One child runs away from an abusive home every 5 minutes, in the UK.’
What are we doing about it?
Chat soon.
Anna
