Once I went to a park for a walk. There, a little boy accosted me saying, "Apa cha khaben?" (Ms, would you like to have tea?). The boy was wearing dirty clothes and had depressing looks in his eyes. After having a little chat with him I said, "Do you go to school?" He replied 'no', and kept silent for a moment, whereupon he asked me, "Apa amare poraben?" (Ms, Will you send me to school?) I felt like my mind had suddenly woken up from deep sleep; his plight had really struck me and made me think deeply about these poor children.
I continued my conversation with that boy. He said, "I have been working here for one year. I have seen many children who come to this park with their parents and play joyfully. Sometimes I wish I could play like those boys and girls." The boy's parents live in a village and he came to Dhaka with one of his uncles. He works under his uncle's supervision and gets a small portion of the money he earns.
It is sad that the children who should be at school at their age have to work-and work hard. What is more, many children who are seen selling things in the streets are homeless or live in extreme squalor. Some even work in hazardous conditions or exploitative situations.
I went to a posh area of Dhaka city to talk with some more street children; they were generally boys, and a few girls aged between 3 and 18, who took to the streets to earn money for themselves and often for their families by whatever means possible. I saw many boys and girls doing work like collecting recyclable goods, selling water, washing cars, selling candy and gum, carrying groceries and polishing shoes.
Their Story
Rubel sells popcorn. He says, "I don't have father. My mother works in a house as a servant but what she earns is not enough for our family so I have to work." The capital for his business comes from a different source. "We have one supervisor. Under that supervisor, more than five children work. We get money for our business from that supervisor." But the profit is not all his. "I buy each packet of popcorn at 7 taka and sell it for 10 taka. If I can sell two packets of popcorn then I get one taka from my supervisor. In this way I can earn 20 taka a day."
Abject poverty makes these street child laborers highly vulnerable. They remain prey to opportunist adults, who even exploit the children for their baneful benefits.
Wadool sells lemon. "I want to go to school but my aunty (supervisor) doesn't want me to. She brought me from my village for this work."
I went to Wadool's supervisor. Initially she was reluctant to talk. But after I talked her into talking to me what she said was quite interesting. "We are not doing any crime. Go to the rich, corrupted people. We are giving money to the children for their work"
Another supervisor said, "Please don't show it [your report] to the police because if they find us doing this business they will send us to jail and the children to the orphanage."
Like Wadool and Rubel many street children say they have their employers. These employers/supervisors use poor children to do this business mainly for two reasons. They do not hire adults, for adult workers demand more money than what they pay to the children. But the more compelling reason is children can appeal to customers emotionally and sell more than adults.
Sheuli, a girl street worker, sells chocolate. "Though we have to work hard for our survival, we don't want to live in an orphanage. Please give us a good shelter!" Her words remind me that every individual is born free and no matter what they want to live a life in freedom.
Wadool, Rubel, Sheuli-you name any street child laborers and their story is the same-they are deprived of basic education, healthcare and proper shelters; sometimes they are harassed by police. They are, as it were, a public testimony to humanity at its worst.
