Not in Palestine. Here in Morocco.
Changes in the Moroccan social fabric are easily discernable. One could see how deteriorating the situation of Morocco’s street children is. The poverty is more rampant now than a few years ago. So are unemployment and illiteracy. It has a lot to do with a worsening over-population and inflation. A lot to do with an outrageously incompetent government and a helpless, maybe, but certainly lethargic population.
What’s heart-wrenching is to see teenage boys and girls sometimes as young as ten wasting their lives away, forced to shine shoes, beg, or do whatever it takes to survive just one more day because their parents, who are unemployed, poor, divorced, and prone to domestic violence, can not provide for them. They salvage scraps of rotten fish in the ports of our cities and collect spoiled vegetables in our souks.
The risks are enormous. They are exposed to nefarious influences; they end up doing drugs and being coerced into prostitution rings where they are traumatically sexually abused by people who thrive on their misery and offer them an illusive glimmer of hope. They are exposed to diseases and malnutrition. They steal, mug, and hustle. They get involved in territory and gang fights; they get stabbed and beaten to death. If they get arrested by the police, they estimate themselves lucky; it’s temporary free shelter and food. They are a nuisance to tourists who forget about them the moment they depart the country and a sore sight to avoid for Moroccans who are forced to share the same streets and markets with them. These kids are the pariahs of our society and the victims of a failed system that lacked, and still does, the foresight to plan for their future. I don’t think these kids chose their present; I don’t think they have much control over their future. They are going with the flow, but it’s a tumultuous and unforgiving whitewater flow.
What’s to become of them in a few years? Are these the responsible citizens we are rearing to power the dynamics of the country’s future?
The government is guilty of a horrendous oversight for failing to provide for these children the lodging, food, and education they need to function as citizens. The Moroccans, the majority of whom became desensitized to such issues, are responsible for letting it happen. The situation is such that Mohamed Choukri seems to have written “For Bread Alone”, which was published in 1972, about today’s Morocco and not the one he survived in the 40’s and 50′s. We are all protagonists in Choukri’s autobiography; we are living it now; we are imprisoned in it. The human desperation is staggering, the moral and physical suffering excruciating; the consequences will ineluctably be devastating.
We need more initiatives like Dr. Najat M’jid’s “Bayti” which has now been operational for more than a decade and has helped over twenty thousand children. Unfortunately, such initiative only lessens from the intensity of the problem; it does not eradicate it. The problem of street kids still persists because it is tightly correlated to problems that are the onus of the government. Movies were made about these kids, books written, reports by national and international researchers published. Turn Hassan II mosque into a street children reception center, stop pretending all is well and invite international organizations to help. Stop this policy of eradication by exclusion; Help Morocco’s street children.
Ahmed T. B. Copyright © 2008
Les parents doivent avoir le sens civique et faire preuve egalement du sens de la responsabilite pour aider le pays a sortir du sous-developpement en cessant de fabriquer trop d’enfants.
You don’t need to publish this, because one never knows what will create trouble for someone and their blog, but your entry made me think of an experience I had this Christmas, when I was in Morocco. I was on my way back from the desert to Marrakech in a grand taxi with some Moroccans, but our trip was constantly halted because the King was traveling the same route, and at each town we had to stop until his entourage and he drove by. For a Canadian, who really has no monarchy, this seemed kind of exciting. I watched as everyone cheered and waved to the King as he drove by. To a young Moroccan man and his wife, whom I shared the taxi with, I said, “He seems like a good King. Everyone seems to like him”. The young man replied, “Yes” but then he shook his head sadly and said no more. When we got back to our taxi, I got some cookies and oranges out of the car’s trunk before we continued our journey, and was immediately surrounded by a small crowd of kids, looking at me with big eyes and smiles. The young Moroccan man waved them away from me, saying “Shooma”. As we drove away, I thought about the differences between what the Western eye sees (an adoring crowd and its King) and the realities for the people – why should children need to ask strangers for food or presents? Why should elderly people have to perform physical labor long past the age when they should be resting and enjoying life? Why should there be three or four young people rushing to perform the same task, in the hopes of getting paid something/anything? And what is perhaps harder for some people to understand: why are there young people not able to work at all, simply because the opportunity to do so does not exist, or perhaps they have given up hope? Morocco is an amazing country. It is hard for me to express the beauty that I have seen there, but the beauty is always hand in hand with some sadness, because the people seem to have such a daily struggle. It makes me sad to think of a government spending money on fighter jets, to protect itself against some unknown and potentially nonexistent threat, when the very real threat of poverty in the country is known, and the people of the country live it every day.
Povre, Je suis d’accord avec vous, sauf que le planning familiale a toujours était une question d’éducation. Je me souviens que dans les années 70/80, l’Unicef œuvré pour que les parents Marocains acquièrent le savoir nécessaire pour gérer leurs familles. Le program a été légué au Ministère de la Sante. La suite vous la connaissez.
Krista, thank you for your comment and your illustrative story. You were fortunate enough to be in a situation that provided you with insight on different shades of Moroccan life. You saw the show people put up for the king’s motorcade; Obviously, their economic and social situation is dire and belies that exuberance, but they show their love for the king and his government which happens to be the source of their misery and their possible salvation all at once. You saw how people suffer in silence vis-à-vis the government because complaining is considered political and subversive. And of course you saw the kids who are apolitical, whose reverence for the king amounts to nothing more than mimicking the adults around them, and who are illiterate, homeless, and starving. In contrast to this backdrop of misery, there is the tourist who is affluent, educated, and oh! so emotionally detached. But you were able to cross that threshold and realize how the environment was saturated with contrasting emotions: love/hate, happy/miserable, needy/proud.
I remember reading a story, years ago, about a little Cuban boy who was asked once by some tourists what he would like to be when he grows up. Without skipping a beat, he answered: “A tourist.”
I hope you’ll have a chance to visit Morocco again. It is indeed a beautiful country and its wonderful people are a peaceful, fun-loving bunch.
HI ahmed was good to read reality of the world from people who had all the experiance around the world not media publication it,s a big plus brother will have adrink when ever you like LLOLL
No word,s can explaine it better than you!!!