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by Abdinoor Mohamed
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
"Life on the street is tough. Somalia has no central government. It has no strong institutions to protect street children. Many of them are victims of crime, sexual assault, abuse, and exploitation. They are also a target for militia recruitment.
Some have taken to the streets to earn money to support their families. Others have no families to take care of them" Idil Osman of the VOA. Ful story, please read this link Somalia's Street Children Fend for Themselves
Please let us put our voices together to make the shout bigger. Be a voice for the care and protection of the Somali children. Please add something to Idil´s voice. Let me start with a poem:
We have hundreds of thousands of children in the streets of our towns, cities and villages. They are victims of Somalia's civil war. They are displaced children. If something is not done in a wider national scale, we can not expect to rebuild Somalia.
He is a displaces Somali Child
He is an orphan. He is homeless.
He lives in the shadows of poverty
He drinks from empty cans and bottles. He is a scavenger. He is a rubish- hunter.
He hangs out in the streets
He is a Beggar. He lives with fear
He shelters in the cruelty of bad looks
Nobody ever cares. Everybody abuses
He is a Displaced Somali Child
He lost his parents in the war
He knows no love as he was never loved
He knows no life as he never lived it
A breath of mercy never touched him.
He is a Displaced Somali Child
His eyes are as smooth as a mirror
They are dry yet release tears of blood
They are on the look out for help
Yet they see no help in the horizon
He is a Displaced Somali Child
He cries out for attention
He cries out for protection
Warlords have bullets for him
Agencies have their inputs scant
They feed while retreating for safety
Or wave from escorted vehicles
He is a Displaced Somali Child
He never sees inside a classroom
Never washes inside a bathroom
Never takes fresh water from a tap
Never drops cargo in a toilet pit
He is a Displaced Somali Child
He has no money to see a doctor
But disease sees him free of charge
It visits him regularly without fail
It treats him with injections of pain
Feeds him with malnutrition
Adminsters him with tablets of death
A grave has its jaws wide open
awaiting in suspense to swallow its prey
It is the child's final referral point
He lives in agony. He dies in agony.
He is a Displaced Somali Child.
Abdi-Noor Mohamed
Writer and Filmmaker
Vaxjo university
Sweden
[email protected]