Songs of Innocence: Nuzhat Shahzadi

 

                                                  

Songs of Innocence

A bunch of girls ran past me on the sidewalk and greeted me in unison, almost: “Good morning.” Their vibrancy touched me.

They were followed by two boys right behind. They said, “Hello!”

I greeted them back.

They were possibly 15 or 16––heading somewhere on the summer morning. I could hear the traces of laughter as their footsteps faded––I could feel their fierce freedom as their feet bounced on the sidewalk.

Girls’ groups in Vienna Town Center––a common sight especially in summer

Adolescents seem to live inside their own bubble - oblivious of the existences around them. In all the places I have lived this has been mostly true.  Sometimes their uninterested gazes have glided over me––an ancient relic??. . . Surprisingly in our current neighborhood, children and teenagers are quite different––they greet in passing, engage in conversations, show interest outside of their private zones. It’s refreshing, sort of unusual.

A lion’s share of my professional life (UNICEF, Johns Hopkins . . .) was focused on children/adolescent development programs. I got ample opportunities to connect with them, listen to their dreams, joys, fears and sadness––in different contexts, different countries, during disasters and wars . . . peaceful or normal periods . . . but what is normal in these changing times, I wonder . . . Even in very peaceful environments they are at risk, persistently. (Girls, especially, have always been more vulnerable, across the globe).

. . . I remember the qualitative research we did with adolescent girls in Maldives - peaceful paradise of white sandy beaches closeted by turquoise-waters of the Indian Ocean. The country has 26 Atolls. Those days, children came to Male, the capital, for their education as the outer islands didn’t have proper facilities. They stayed with relatives, friends of their families . . . in our focus groups discussions, many of them spoke about incidences of sexual abuse they faced while staying in such households, mainly by the (male) heads of the family or older boys . . . (I think I briefly mentioned this issue in my previous writings . . .)

“Did you tell your parents? Anyone about this?” I had asked.

“No” they shook their heads. After some silences, some emotional struggles we got responses:

“I don’t know how to talk about it,” one girl said, holding a sob in her voice.

“If we tell our parents they won’t let us stay here for school. I like school,” another girl reported . . .

After our work was done, I informed our Country Representative . . . Later, I also met with the Minister of Education and brought this up. She listened––agreed to look into the matter but didn’t fully admit that such incidences were occurring. Not sure if any action was taken . . . domestic sexual abuse is an extremely difficult matter––it gets buried under aggressive denials.

In comparison, Kiribati (32 Atolls, 21 Inhabited) is sort of a rustic paradise (poor-country-bumpkin cousin of Maldives?) ––less developed, lack of/extremely limited modern amenities and very low tourist interest unlike the tourist-haven-Maldives. However, the striking differences that make Kiribati so special, endearing and precious are its egalitarian culture, crime free society, one-road-traffic less low-stress, narrow habitats constantly sprayed by the waves of the Pacific Ocean . . . and the authentic-simplicity of the people. This is Kiribati––beautiful in its isolation.

Sister Bernadette was a champion of girls’ rights and worked closely with us in UNICEF’s child protection initiatives (2011-2015). Adolescents faced numerous problems––we did our best to work towards solutions. Resources were limited ––human power, funds . . . I knew I could rely on Sister on a very specific issue––underage girls’ engagements in Kava bars.

Kava is a drink made by grinding roots of the Kava plant. It’s a common practice to consume it during ceremonies, festivities, social gatherings. Kava ceremonies are meant to bring people together, reinforce social bonds.

There were numerous Kava bars in Tarawa where men gathered in the evenings to drink the brew served by underage girls (adolescents around 15-17/18 were preferred). They were employed by the bars. While the serving progressed, men touched the girls inappropriately. This was acceptable in the culture.

With assistance from social service workers and the Catholic nuns I was able to speak with some servers, individually:

“Yes, these men are bad . . . their hands are everywhere . . .”

“I feel bad . . . lowly when they touch me . . . some are my friends’ uncles or fathers . . .”

“It’s so shameful . . .”

Girls’ testimonies were heart breaking. People didn’t want to talk about their abuse.

A Kava Bar in South Tarawa, Kiribati

We began our big campaign to raise awareness regarding abuse of girls in Kava bars. Beito council headed by female and male community leaders supported us. We tried . . . behavior change is a hard, treacherous, disappointing loathsome battle . . . you don’t win always . . .

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In islands of small populations everyone knows everyone––not very hard to stop the Kava bar happenings . . . but the practice continues unhindered even today . . .

At present, Kava bars need a license to operate. In Tarawa, Kava bars now offer additional entertainments ––karaoke, pool tables and darts. Some also have free WiFi and Bluetooth services.