Boots on the ground- finally!

 

Hargesia is the capital of Somaliland, which has claimed its own independence, though not yet internationally recognized as a country on its own. It is relatively peaceful compared to the rest of Somalia though in recent times some of their areas to the east have seen some conflict over some contested territories. I took the commercial flight to Hargesia from Mogadishu. Turns out the domestic airport is even more chaotic than the international one and while initially deciding to brave it myself, I ended up calling up my Man Friday – Shinoo the porter very soon, eating humble pie yet again about my ability to negotiate chaos.

 

The arrival at Hargesia was uneventful except for the part where they stamped my passport with their own visa and collected a fee for it! One must give it up for self determination confidence of Somaliland! I mean now I have a visa stamp of a country that basically does not exist! The hotel I realized is basically a hostpost of expats in Somaliland and it was nice to be in a big room with large windows after being cooped up in the Mog prison. I spent the first day on online calls near the window for as long as I could.

The next few days were spent in a whirlwind of programme visits, meetings and partner discussions and basically being able to move around without security escorts, stop and have coffee at cafes, eat out at restaurants, even walk around freely during the day! This was so different from Mog that I really enjoyed myself learning about the work there. While a lot were meetings with Government there, there was one visit to a safehouse for survivors of Gender based violence and an interaction with young people part of our upskilling programme, that truly left a mark on the dedication and efforts of our partners to make a difference in this very challenging context.

The highlight perhaps for me was a visit to the old city and main market where my colleagues took me and honestly it felt so nice to be able to have this immersive experience. Hargesia is famous for its gold market and I decided to pay a visit there as well. It was super interesting to see how gold was being sold by the street side like fruits or vegetables! I got myself a tiny something as a good luck omen which the locals believe buying gold is.

And just like that it was time to head back. My return was on the UN Humanitarian Air Service (UNHAS) flight. Little did I realise when I boarded the tiny aircraft at Hargesia, what an adventure this will be. Our first refuelling stop was in a small town by the Red Sea and the airport is literally by the red sea- it was stunning and I ran to take some pictures before boarding back again. The next phase of the journey to Puntland capital of Garowe saw some turbulence and trust you me that little plane did not feel safe! Everyone heaved a sigh of relief when we finally touched ground. Here we had to change aircrafts and by now I was dehydrated and hungry and really tired. However the flight had another stop before it finally reached Mog. A real hop on hop off, air tour of Somalia! Next time, I am flying commercial for sure.

Pictures below : 1) the UNHAS flight experience 2) the red sea stop over 2) meeting with some young people from our social entrepreneurship work, in Somaliland the abaya and head scarf is a must 4) In a meeting with Minister of Justice of Somaliland (yep they are serious about this country thing)  5) the Hargesia gold market 

Surviving Somalia

 

It has been a while since my last update reflective also of how my days in Mogadishu has started to get busier. I have already been on two trips home on my Rest and Recuperation (R&R) breaks, which are every 4 weeks and trust me they are life saviours. One also realizes that most of us in such duty stations are basically living from one R&R to another, practically it makes sense to enable us to plan our time and work schedules and make our bookings. But also it is a huge mental health issue where one bonds with colleagues over discussions of R&R plans, the anticipation of the days leading to it, the goodbyes and welcomes and the treats that come when someone returns from a R&R.

In a dark humour anecdote, a rocket launched by Al Shabab that landed on the room of a UN colleague and destroyed it, didn’t cause any human harm as the colleague was away on R&R. Prompting some meme jokes around “R&R Saves Lives”!

Speaking of saving lives, this period was also where I had a very significant and perhaps life altering exposure through a security training curated and delivered for the UN in all places where security risks are significant. For reasons of privacy, I cannot divulge more about the training but it was perhaps one of the best life skills coaching I had. For me personally being selected the team leader and being responsible in a very real simulation of security threats for the lives of 20 team members was both one of the hardest things and most fulfilling things I have done in a long time.  And the T shirt we received as successful closure of the training with a slogan of ‘I Survived the S-SAFE Training’, kind of gives a glimpse into the intensity of it.

And finally armed with my S-SAFE training completion, I could finally start travelling locally. First stops were meetings with partners in Mogadishu beyond the wire or green zone where all UN offices and living premises are. Its quite an experience to travel in convoys of armoured vehicles wearing PPE vests and being accompanied by security personnel who basically also decide on how long you can be in a meeting or visit. Apparently not more than 2 hours to even 1 hour for some locations. I felt a bit like the POTUS honestly. However in reality this can be quite unnerving as well atleast initially.

Travel within the south central part of the country is also similarly managed even to visit community sites. So I decided that perhaps my first field mission to be to a bit of safer areas in the country where I will not be bound by security and will really get some time to spend with partners and communities. So I travelled to the northern western region of Somalia, known as Somaliland and its capital city – Hargesia.

More on this in my next post……….

 

A Prayer for Peace

A Prayer for Peace

As soon as I was allotted my room and I had managed to freshen up, I headed to office. I had lot of briefings lined up for the afternoon. These were pretty routine and administrative till I reached the security briefing. The first step in that was being allotted a bullet proof vest, helmet and a radio set. Fun! It felt a bit like movies honestly and I was excited to do my Charlie delta tango training on the radio.

As the briefing progressed to actual situation on ground, recent threats, possible scenarios in the next few months, the impending withdrawal of the African Union forces, Operation Black Lion (more on that later), El Nino threats, the acquisition of some sophisticated rockets by the Al Shabab…… I was tempted to call Ethiopian Airlines to book my return flight. What had I got myself into? For a civilian with a generally low appetite for risks, this was now getting a bit more serious than a Hollywood action thriller. The only bright part of this was that atleast my desk at office was next to the bunker, which basically is the conference room for the office. 6 steps and I can spring to safety. Yes you heard it right, we have a bunker in our office and a couple in the living area and one of the first things you learn is the location of these and how you get to them safely if you can when you hear the alarm.

And from the moment I landed ofcourse, I have been made aware that this security briefing is nothing compared to the simulation safety training that is compulsory for all UN staff which would give me real life scenarios of the kinds of situations we may have to deal with. Anyway, mine was scheduled for some weeks later so I did not really give it much of a thinking and focused on settling in and getting used to this new surrounding.

Essentially all of the UN and other international security forces operate from a compound attached to the airport. Within this UNICEF has its own compound with our office and residential areas next to each other. It is not a bad space given the circumstances with a pool and gym and individual rooms for all of us and a common eating place. Without my advanced security training, I can move in vehicles between compounds but not outside of this larger airport complex for now.

While I gradually started to understand work and dive right into it as is UNICEF norm, I was beginning to also feel quite settled in the new environment. Weekends were spent at the beach and brunch at the famous international centre here and a pool side party with colleagues, some grocery shopping, even exploring coffee shops in Mogadishu, one started to feel brave even!

Ofcourse the colleagues who have been around were always sharing their words of caution of not to take security lightly and I just kept saying in my head that they are just paranoid. And then the bubble burst. This one night when our security notification would not stop flashing incidents and the dreaded one to say that the airport compound was under attack as well. We were to shelter in place and not move out and even after the all clear, the security lockdown was imposed for another few days where we could not step out of the compound as well.

And ofcourse a morbid part of me cannot help but add to ongoing stress so I ended up watching Captain Phillips, Black Hawk Down and the White Widow in one night and being convinced that either the pirates, Al Shabab or general conflict will be my undoing. Ofcourse it was no co-incidence that these security incidents also marked the anniversary of the more well known Black Hawk down or the Battle of Mogadishu.

The Battle of Mogadishu was fought on 3–4 October 1993, in Mogadishu, Somalia, between forces of the United States—supported by UNOSOM II—against the forces of the Somali National Alliance (SNA) and armed irregular citizens of south Mogadishu. On 3 October 1993, U.S. forces planned to seize SNA’s General Farah Aidid’s, two top lieutenants during a meeting deep in the city. The raid was only intended to last an hour but morphed into an overnight standoff and rescue operation extending into the daylight hours of the next day. Somali forces shot down three American Black Hawk helicopters, with two crashing deep in hostile territory. A desperate defense of the two downed helicopters began and fighting lasted through the night to defend the survivors of the crashes. In the morning, a UNOSOM II armored convoy fought their way to the besieged soldiers and withdrew, incurring further casualties but rescuing the survivors.

 

We have just emerged from the anniversary of this bloody incident without any major harm and a prayer for peace………..

 

 

A Soft Landing

 

When you land in Mogadishu airport, the touchdown along the ocean is such a stunning sight that it takes your breath away for a minute.

Somalia is part of the Horn of Africa with a long coastline extending from the Gulf of Aden and down the eastern coast of Africa along the Indian ocean.  Somalia is interestingly Africa’s most culturally homogenous countries with 85% of the population ethnic Somalis and following Islam. Unlike many countries even the language is common across the country. It is therefore surprising to see the country so torn by conflict. Historically, by virtue of the coastline, it was a trade hub and then colonized by both British and Italian forces. In the 1960s they finally got independence and formed a civilian government. By the end of the decade, a military government headed by Said Barre took over, at the same time countering the move for independence in northern Somalia or Somaliland. By the early 1990s Said Barre’s government collapsed plunging the country into a civil war and conflict which it never recovered from. Attempts to have transitional governments and interventions of the western and African Union forces since 2006, has tried to deal with the insurgency and return some semblance of governance to the country. A provisional constitution was also passed in 2012, however many parts of the country continued to be under conflict with also a rise in the presence of Al Shabab militancy. Even now the federal government is not fully recognized in northern parts of Somaliland and Puntland and the southern- central parts remain conflict affected. Add to this the dimensions of climate change, drought and an economy wiped out from years of conflict and we have the right ingredients for a very fragile state.

So back to me and touching down in Mogadishu or as is known Mogadiscio (leftover Italian colonial influence). The awe at the beauty of the runway was short-lived as I walked into a chaotic terminal building, cleared immigration and was immediately surrounded by porters at luggage collection. There is a carefully crafted local economy of the porters and it is advisable to just use one to help you out the first few times. The other thing is that your cell phone will not work even if you activate its roaming because apparently no global service provider has services here. Thankfully I had been tipped to look for someone who is known as the ‘UNICEF’ porter who actually found me and helped me connect to the driver waiting outside.

The walk out of the airport to the car was a chilling experience. We read so much about the security and here we were walking through a crowded market lane kind of a place to unmarked vehicles lined up outside. Every fibre in my body was screaming this goes against all my security training, but the porter was confidently leading the way and I had no option but to follow. UNICEF vehicles are mostly unmarked, and the drivers just carry a small placard inside for identification so we know we are in the right one. Ofcourse it could jolly well have been a kidnapper with a UNICEF placard and I would not have known the difference and happily gone along only to realise later maybe that my country would be least interested in any kind of negotiation for my release or ransom. Mercifully these thoughts came to me later and not in that moment.

Good news was that it was not a kidnapping and I was then safely driven through bunkered roads and high wall lined streets to the UNICEF compound which would be my world now it seems for as long as I stay here in Somalia. Office and residences are in the same compound and while movements are allowed between compounds inside a larger airport compound, these also can get restricted at security alerts as I would find out soon enough.

Yes! I do!

 After a very long hiatus am trying to revive my habit of writing through this really old blog I had created in a moment of inspiration. This time it is to try and keep a track of the experiences of my recent move to Somalia for working at the UNICEF Mission here as a Child Protection Manager. I believe this is a very interesting transition for me both personally and professionally and hope that this will get a bit more interest than my previous posts which I think had all of nine and a half hits. So here goes.......

That moment when I got the offer letter for a position in Somalia was a strange feeling of elation and an overwhelming dread. What had I done! Was contemplating going to work in the world’s most dangerous place my midlife crisis? Do I need to learn pirate language in case I am taken hostage by the famous Somali pirates? So many thoughts, each worse than the other.

So I did what I do best to deal with uncertainty, started looking content on Somalia on the one and only Dr Google. And ofcourse it did what it always does even when you ask about common cold, it confirms your worst fears of a terminal disease and sure doom. Within minutes I saw media stories about it being the most dangerous place in the world, a travel vlog where said person apparently entered without a visa as a tourist and then nearly died of some mortar fire, and images of horrific attacks on civilians and UN Staff.

So clearly this route would not work for me to prepare myself for a move to Somalia. I borrowed a bit of all this ‘positive thinking’ influencers on social media, people I normally would like to block and curse for toxic positivity. But you know desperate times call for desperate solutions.

So I started doing the pros of this and decided to completely block out the cons for the moment.  First and foremost the role was very interesting, where I would be heading two pillars of work in child protection in Somalia on systems strengthening and adolescent development. This was more the development aspect of UNICEF’s work here while a major part of the overall focus of the work continues to be humanitarian. But Somalia had signed off the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child in 2015, making it the second last country to have done so in the most widely ratified world treaty. (Any guesses which is now the last and only country left to sign this document?). So this provided a basis for a nascent child protection system to be visualized in the country and a real opportunity of some basic work that could lead to sustainable child protection solutions in a state still fragile from conflict, climate change and poverty.

Conversations with colleagues who were in Somalia working now or in the past also seemed to confirm that there is a positive change in the country, conflict though still prevalent has reduced, the security situation is improving visible also with UNICEF expanding work in more and more areas across the country and overall, a good work environment. And the most compelling mission of UNICEF and boots in the mud for the most complex places of our work, kind of pep talk by colleagues.

So with some courage, tons of support of the partner and his willingness to take on child and household care, and a daughter who thought this would be an interesting experience in my career, I took a big leap of faith aided by a big gulp of gin or more, and said Yes! I Do!

Two months and tons of work to wrap up work and wind down a household, which reminded me again that I may need to seek help on my hoarding behaviour if I get out of Somalia alive, a zillion farewell parties and goodbyes with the family where I insisted on repeating my will for some effect and drama, there I was at the airport to board my Ethiopian Airlines flight to Mogadiscio.

 

To be continued………….

Five lessons from Justice Lokur

Since 2014, Unicef India has partnered with the Supreme Court's One Person Committee on Juvenile Justice, headed by the Hon’ble Mr. Justice Lokur, to set in process a systematic review and follow up of the implementation of the JJ Act in the country. In many ways this process was a culmination of a rich engagement of the civil society in child rights in the country. A vibrant child rights movement that demanded accountability and an authority that could lead the charge on ensuring all stakeholders were on board. Every year since 2014, we have organised regional round tables with stakeholders, covering all States, and culminating in a national stocktaking where the report of this is released by the Chief Justice of India. I can write pages on the process and the impact it has had, but sadly, that will have to wait for another time. Today, as Justice Lokur completes his last working day in the Supreme Court of India, and I see tributes being written farewell speeches written in his honour, I have to share and reflect on what I have learnt from him in these four years.

1. The popular saying goes - aim for the stars and you will reach the moon. Sir taught me that as far as children’s rights go, we have to aim as well as reach for the stars. Nothing less will do. When we started planning these review conferences, I was very sceptical on how many states we could reach, and proposed we start with just a key few. Justice Lokur was emphatic in rejecting my proposal. It had to be all the States, including Union Territories. Even if one child in the Andaman Islands was having her rights violated, it was not acceptable. So that’s my first lesson: when it’s the rights of children on the line, nothing less than the best effort will do.

2. Very often in our field of work, especially in child protection, we struggle with data. Numbers are so hard to come by that at times there is an obsession of trying to acquire them. We feel immensely satisfied by seeing neat excel sheets and colourful graphs. Justice Lokur loves his numbers as well. Systems of data collection and analysis excited him. Yet in every visit I have made to a children’s home with him, he always took the time to reach out and help a child in distress. One child out of millions whose story he would listen to, and then ensure action was taken. I have received many a late call from him, inquiring,for example, the status of relocation for the family of a girl from Nagaland, forced to take shelter at a home in Bangalore, who was desperate to go back. This was my second lesson: it’s important not to get too caught up in averages and numbers only. Don’t forget that each of those numbers is a child who needs our support.

3. In these last four years of working with all States and High Courts, we met and listened to many stakeholders. From judges of High Courts to supervisors of children’s homes, from police officers to judicial magistrates, from activists to government officials. Focus was always on finding solutions to problems rather than faults. The man known for his stern and no nonsense judgements in court, was also the man who constantly sought out people with solutions and tried to bring them together. After a day of long deliberations, when everyone just wanted to call it a day, Justice Lokur would sit down with us to identify the most promising solutions presented, then compliment these people personally and make sure that their stories were shared with others. His attitude to all of them, from the humble frontline social worker to the top most lawmaker was the same...if they showed commitment, he showed respect. He also inspired others in the judiciary to start seeing Children’s issues as important and significant and their role within that. And that was my third lesson: Everyone can be the spark that can light the fire for change. Whatever role we are in, if we want to make a difference to the lives of children, we can contribute. Not everything has to be a big and fancy policy, though those are also welcome. But even a simple action like painting the walls of a home to add colour to the daily routine of children is worthy of recognition.

4. Of course we had our share of failures in this process. Uncooperative officials, or those that have been cynical. Politics, egos clashing, blame games... I have been witness to several such conflicts, especially after they were brought to Justice Lokur’s attention, and I have seen how he dealt with them. Staying neutral, non judgemental, and gently but firmly urging parties to not forget that they were doing something for the sake of children. In one case he fearlessly and successfully put himself between two such warring factions, knowing well that whatever happened, the fact that he represents the Supreme Court would ensure that the two parties are forced to swallow their pride and arrive at a compromise. He never failed to remind them that the children were benefiting from ending a battle of egos. Here came my fourth lesson: cooperation, and not conflict, is the better way to bring people together for the greater good. This was the essence of his style of functioning; collaborative action. 

5. Many a times the world of child rights is also about normative standards of human rights, and holding ourselves accountable to it. In India, this was also the period in which a lot happened in terms of the laws changing. Some would call it a knee jerk reaction to incidents or, populist measures, not very rooted in evidences. As the Judiciary, of course Justice Lokur never directly involved himself in these discussions, yet one heard in his speeches the values of human rights being echoed time and again. He urged lawmakers not to forget the international and constitutional standards and expressed concern of how some changes in law would negatively impact children. In the infamous Muzzafarpur case, he lost no time in deciding that this was a matter the Supreme Court should take up suo moto. And here lies my fifth and most important lesson: we can be an activist and a changemaker in any work especially when human rights are at risk of being diluted or thwarted, we cannot just be mute spectators simply on the excuse of being neutral. Some values are always worth the fight...
I can only end with deep gratitude to Justice Lokur for his journey with UNICEF and having had a profound impact on our work and values. Continue to be this warm light of hope and courage always...

My Name is Today. Tomorrow is Too Late - Gabriel Mistral

A note from a dear friend and senior colleague who is leaving the country ended with this quote from Gabriel Mistral on children. It set me thinking and finally got me back to the writing desk after a really long gap. I started this blog with a lot of enthusiasm to write about my work and experiences, joys and frustrations of a child rights worker in the heartlands of Uttar Pradesh. But seems my creative juices only flow with deep anguish. My previous posts (a princely number of 3) have largely dealt with the anguish of seeing women and girls being treated as the second sex or with the caste discrimination so rampant in many parts of the country that seems so normalised for people. In all those reflections, I tried to think about what as an individual can we do to make a change even as the larger policy and politics play out.

Today, I find myself again in deep despair. I came to Delhi  two years ago, into a new role in my job with stars in my eyes. In my interview I said I want to influence policies, be at the cutting edge of the child rights agenda in the country. Bring lasting changes in the lives of children blah blah blah. In the last eight months, I have seen before my eyes two laws on children unfolding and getting ratification that almost make me think this is one long nightmare. Maybe I will wake up and still be in Lucknow, eating Tunday, attending Urdu fests, Ganjing and happily dealing with nuts and bolts issues of how to make communities resilient in dealing with child protection and address issues of gender and caste. It was really much easier to talk to communities that the audience that is probably reading this post likes to call 'backward, uneducated, poor....". I distinctly remember a conversation with a child protection commmittee in Sonebhadra district of Eastern UP where the members understood why we were opposed to trying children as adults. They just got that children taking to crime was a failure of the family and community at large and does not have to be criminalised. There was one member who had taken it upon himself to make surprise checks at home based carpet looms to make sure children were not working there - even after school hours as they needed time to rest and play and just be children.

So I thought, well if they get it in a remote hamlet tucked away between left wing extremist areas and the badlands of UP, surely in New Delhi it will be a cakewalk to have such discussions and get people to see reason. I guess that is precisely when my nightmare turned out not be a nightmare after all. The politics of law making in our country and the complete apathy towards a genuine concern for children by our policy makers, have hit me in the gut - physically hurting me. I have come close to just giving up this line of work and finding an alternate profession. But then I realise quickly that I am really not good at anything else. So here I am after two years, a major part of which was spent fighting against the new Juvenile Justice Act (JJA) and some part of it against the amendment to the Child Labour Act (CLPRA). Both these legislations were cleared by Parliament in the last eight months without any change of stand on the key concerns highlighted by many individuals and organisations.

So then I am forced to introspect. What really is happening here? What are we not getting as child rights workers? Are we missing a piece of the puzzle that is only visible to policy makers?

On the one hand we justify poverty as an excuse for children working and on the other hand when poverty forces these same working children into the fringes of urban centres where they come in contact with gangs, drugs and crime, we want to punish them severely and try them as adults? If poverty is forcing children to work, should the State not take a hard look at the targeting and delivery of its much touted social protection schemes? Am I the only fool that does not get how in 2016, with the country posturing world over for NSG membership, we can justify continuation of child labour in any form citing poverty as a reason? And in the same breath condemn children who maybe take this agency or responsibility of work thrust on them like they are adults and behave like adults. So then you have the whole rigmarole of child like and adult like mindset in committing a crime. If it is so bad in the eyes of the law to be adult like, then why in the eyes of another law is it being pushed as a boon to children to be able to assume adult responsibilities to reduce family poverty?

How can the same Government churn out two laws with so much differences in the age categories. The JJA makes a distinction between all other children and children in the age group of 16-18. For some reason, best known to the powers that be and unknown to most of the scientific research in the field, it seems that is a period where magically a child becomes 'adult like'. Then why does the CLPRA make a distinction of upto 14 and 14 and above? Why does the National Policy on Children define children as anyone below 18? Who are these adolescents as per the CLPRA? International definitions for adolescence based on biological development is the age group of 10-19. How does a law chose to ignore something as factual as biology and create a completely different category for adolescents that find no reflection in another legislation or policy of the Government? 

And amidst all this posturing, what is really the investment in children?  According to the 264th Report of Department-Related Parliamentary Standing Committee on Human Resource Development, the percentage share of children’s budget within the Union Budget has been reduced from 4.76% in 2012-13 to 4.64% in 2013-14. The report further highlights that of all sectors, the budget for child protection has been the lowest and in 2015-16, it is only 0.04% of the total union budget. This covers the juvenile justice system, child labour and provisions for orphan and street children. So we make new laws and policies and expect magic to happen? Without any political will in investing in the systems needed to make the laws a reality for children? 

Clearly it cannot only be the responsibility of the State. And I expected this united, concerted child rights movement that I could be a part of at the National level, that I have always admired from the sidelines in the last 13 years of my 15 year career. People that inspired with their work and commitment. And I realise never has a movement faced such an existential crisis as now in the face of these incessant legislative regressions. Those inspiring leaders - many of them chose to keep silent through this storm. Ofcourse many did not - they fought like tigers and at the forefront. But many did not. Curiously absent from meetings, petitions, press conferences and statements. Curiously present in many government platforms though at the same time. It forces me to question basic principles of civil society operations in child rights? Is there a decline of the ideological base that led to the semblance of a movement? In the name of public private partnership, are eroding the free thinking space for civil society? If someone calls himself or herself a child rights activist, how can that person not speak up when such sweeping changes are taking place in the landscape of their work? Child rights and human rights are not divisible. That was the first lesson I learnt. The child is the same. Is that so difficult to perceive? 

Babloo lives in a village in a rural part of the country. He helps his father in the family's small landholding. At some point, Babloo was enrolled in the primary school in the village. He was quite excited about learning. But school turned out to be not what they showed in the PSAs in Doordarshan that Babloo saw in the Panchayat house sometimes. The teachers were not interested in teaching, the other boys shunned him for being a lower caste and no one really questioned his absence for days when the work on the farm was a bit heavier and he skipped school. Babloo continued to do this cat and mouse game between the school and the farm. Usually too tired to play or study after attending a few hours of school and then helping is father in the farm, Babloo soon started slipping in learning in school. By the time he was 14 and had somehow managed to complete primary school, he had no more interest left in studying. The same year drought struck the village and Babloo's father took a massive loss. Babloo joined a stream of 'adolescents' headed to the city for work and started working in a biscuit factory. The work hours were long and conditions poor. But Babloo was making some money and staying with other boys from his village in a slum in the city. With a little extra money that he kept for himself after sending the rest to his family in the village, Babloo started to buy some things for himself - a pair of sunglasses, jeans. One say some boys showed Babloo how to smoke. It progressed to other kinds of substances. Soon before he knew it and unsupervised without the care and protection of his family, Babloo was an addict. The earning from the factory was now not enough to support his addiction and his family. Babloo started minor thefts with the neighborhood gangs. It all seemed so easy with the drugs rather than the brains talking in his 15 year old head. By the time he turned 16, Babloo was a full blown addict and then one day in a fit of withdrawal and desperate need of money for his cocaine, he accidentally kills a man he was trying to rob. Babloo now is going to be tried as an adult for committing this 'heinous' offence. 

Is it really so difficult to see the links? Hands on your hearts. Really? 

So where really as a Nation do we put children as a policy, economic and moral priority? Do I really need to answer the question? Mistral's quote which is the title of this post is poignant at this moment. Children maybe our future. But for those children, their life is here and now. They will not have a future if we do not act in the present.