Today I am going to write about the street children of Zimbabwe.
Last year I
attended the Harare International Festival of the Arts (HIFA) and I gave some
talks about art therapy. This year I was invited back to work with a group of
street children to create a large permanent mural installation. I had arranged
with Streets Ahead, a local organization that provides a day sanctuary for
street children, to identify fifteen children (ages 10-17) who would be reliable
and interested in a week-long project.
Too bad that funding has been cut drastically and the children
are rarely being fed. They have no soap to bathe with and it didn’t look as
though anyone had time to listen to their “worries and concerns.” When Michelle
(the wonderfulDrawBridge art facilitator who accompanied me on this adventure)
and I showed up for the first time, we were met by a large group of children
dressed in rags or half naked, washing clothes from a single tap (no soap/no
shower), lying around in the walled in courtyard or running around playing with
each other. Lots of clothes (rags) were spread out to dry all over the dusty
yard.
attended the Harare International Festival of the Arts (HIFA) and I gave some
talks about art therapy. This year I was invited back to work with a group of
street children to create a large permanent mural installation. I had arranged
with Streets Ahead, a local organization that provides a day sanctuary for
street children, to identify fifteen children (ages 10-17) who would be reliable
and interested in a week-long project.
The sign outside says, "Streets Ahead
is an agency which provides foster care and drop-in services for street
children. Streets Ahead provides outreach workers in the city everyday so that
street children know there is someone to turn to with worries and concerns. The
outreach workers tell the children about the drop in centre where they can go
for a shower and a meal. More importantly, this is a safe environment where they
are made to feel welcome. They can relax and remember what it is like to be a
child again."
is an agency which provides foster care and drop-in services for street
children. Streets Ahead provides outreach workers in the city everyday so that
street children know there is someone to turn to with worries and concerns. The
outreach workers tell the children about the drop in centre where they can go
for a shower and a meal. More importantly, this is a safe environment where they
are made to feel welcome. They can relax and remember what it is like to be a
child again."
Too bad that funding has been cut drastically and the children
are rarely being fed. They have no soap to bathe with and it didn’t look as
though anyone had time to listen to their “worries and concerns.” When Michelle
(the wonderfulDrawBridge art facilitator who accompanied me on this adventure)
and I showed up for the first time, we were met by a large group of children
dressed in rags or half naked, washing clothes from a single tap (no soap/no
shower), lying around in the walled in courtyard or running around playing with
each other. Lots of clothes (rags) were spread out to dry all over the dusty
yard.
Ivor and Gift, our trusty (some of the time) adult
organizers/helpers called the group together into a circle by screaming “CIRCLE,
CIRCLE”, and informed us that there were 28 children (plus a set of two year old
twins…the daughters of one of the street children…sixteen year old Caroline) and
that we should choose fifteen of them. Appalled, Michelle and I looked at each
other and we decided (hellooooo?) that they would all be invited to join the
project. Feeling completely overwhelmed, I asked them to go around in the circle
and tell us their name, where they came from and their age. Everyone of them
said, “I am sixteen years old” and then mumbled the name of a village in Shona
which probably translated into “your ass”. There was lots of laughter. One of
them appeared to be around ten years old and some of them looked as old as
eighteen. There was no telling, and in fact many Africans don’t know their
birthday…they were born in the year of the great drought or the heavy
rains.
I made a little speech about how honored we were to be there with
them, blah, blah and blah, and that we would feed them a good meal every day and
pay them each a $10 stipend at the end of the week for working with us on the
mural. They went MAD…wildly shrieking and jumping with joy about the
money.
The boys (I forgot to mention that there were twenty-six boys and only
two girls) included: Blessing, Givemore, Learnmore, Innocent, Pardon, Power and
Anyway. What fabulous names. There was also Brucie, Frankie, Mike, Mkhulule,
Clements, Exavior, Ashford, Fadzai, Fanwel and more.
them, blah, blah and blah, and that we would feed them a good meal every day and
pay them each a $10 stipend at the end of the week for working with us on the
mural. They went MAD…wildly shrieking and jumping with joy about the
money.
The boys (I forgot to mention that there were twenty-six boys and only
two girls) included: Blessing, Givemore, Learnmore, Innocent, Pardon, Power and
Anyway. What fabulous names. There was also Brucie, Frankie, Mike, Mkhulule,
Clements, Exavior, Ashford, Fadzai, Fanwel and more.
Their list of rules for
the week:
1. No (domestic) violence (I think that was a joke)
2. No
begging
3. No stealing
4. No fighting
5. No smoking or sniffing
6.
No jealousy
7. No vulgar words
8. BE HAPPY!
the week:
1. No (domestic) violence (I think that was a joke)
2. No
begging
3. No stealing
4. No fighting
5. No smoking or sniffing
6.
No jealousy
7. No vulgar words
8. BE HAPPY!
If you break the rules you
will be punished. The punishment is NO FOOD. Be there on time (which is two
hours late to a Zimbabwean).
will be punished. The punishment is NO FOOD. Be there on time (which is two
hours late to a Zimbabwean).
And so the week began as we walked a mile to the
grounds of the HIFA site, 32 of us and the two-year old twins, carrying old
doors and other large pieces of wood that had been collected for the project.
The first day is a bit of a blur, but I mainly remember thinking to myself, “How
are we possibly going to reach these boys? They are so defended and so beaten
down.” I told Michelle that I thought we had made a mistake by coming. I was
scared. I went to sleep thinking to myself, “How can one possibly touch the
empathy in a child who is so beaten?”
grounds of the HIFA site, 32 of us and the two-year old twins, carrying old
doors and other large pieces of wood that had been collected for the project.
The first day is a bit of a blur, but I mainly remember thinking to myself, “How
are we possibly going to reach these boys? They are so defended and so beaten
down.” I told Michelle that I thought we had made a mistake by coming. I was
scared. I went to sleep thinking to myself, “How can one possibly touch the
empathy in a child who is so beaten?”
The next morning everyone showed up on
time, two hours late. I had a brand new video camera with me (purchased in the
London airport a few days earlier) and three other digital cameras, good ones,
including a brand new large Nikon…and I had an idea.
time, two hours late. I had a brand new video camera with me (purchased in the
London airport a few days earlier) and three other digital cameras, good ones,
including a brand new large Nikon…and I had an idea.
When the group had
assembled and I had passed out the scones stolen from the breakfast buffet at
our hotel (by the way, don’t think it is easy to steal 28 scones. It takes some
real confidence and practice), I said “I am turning these cameras over to you
for the week. I will teach you how to use them and I want you to document our
time together. The only rule is that you must keep the strap around your neck
and after 15 minutes return the camera directly to me so that I can give it to
someone else.” Silence…looking at each other…softening…I was on to something.
The boys knew very well that they could run off with an expensive camera, and
they also knew that I knew that. But, they didn’t, because I trusted them. And
then slowly, slowly they trusted me and soon we were all in a love situation. A
big one. And to think of them now, as I write this testament to a great group of
children, my heart is bursting with what I feel for every single one of
them.
assembled and I had passed out the scones stolen from the breakfast buffet at
our hotel (by the way, don’t think it is easy to steal 28 scones. It takes some
real confidence and practice), I said “I am turning these cameras over to you
for the week. I will teach you how to use them and I want you to document our
time together. The only rule is that you must keep the strap around your neck
and after 15 minutes return the camera directly to me so that I can give it to
someone else.” Silence…looking at each other…softening…I was on to something.
The boys knew very well that they could run off with an expensive camera, and
they also knew that I knew that. But, they didn’t, because I trusted them. And
then slowly, slowly they trusted me and soon we were all in a love situation. A
big one. And to think of them now, as I write this testament to a great group of
children, my heart is bursting with what I feel for every single one of
them.
More tomorrow.