Begging for attention: The fate of street kids

The traffic lights turn red and cars stop, waiting impatiently for the green to reappear.

It is usually hot and sticky outside the comfort of the air- conditioned car cubicles, but even when it rains, it makes no difference to the children who invariably knock on the car windows with their hands outstretched, begging. The thick, leaded pollution only adds to the children's misery.

Children compete with the elderly and disabled for loose change. And they are very young; sometimes all that is visible to the driver is a little hand knocking on the window. They are dirty, wear filthy clothes and seldom have sandals, let alone shoes.

They pass from car to car trying to get to as many as possible before the lights change and their chance is gone. When the green reappears, they swiftly move to the side of the road and inhale the fumes of the speeding cars, motorbikes and buses.

In a minute or two it will start again. It goes on every day from morning to evening.

It is no surprise that according to health ministry statistics, acute respiratory infections account for 14 percent of infant deaths in Java, and according to a World Bank study, 33 percent of Jakarta's children suffer some form of brain damage due to pollution.

Usually, drivers ignore them, but sometimes, while talking to their fellow passenger or listening to the music, they lower the window just enough to pass out a couple of coins. Only a few feel generous enough to part with Rp 1,000; most feel uncomfortable or even irritated and look the other way, extend their left arm and lift the hand upwards to show the palm.

It is a sign that Indonesians learn very soon in life, and foreigners pick it up in the early stages of their stay in this country. It is a sign that has two possible interpretations: "I have no money" or "I don't want to give you any money."

But it has only one meaning: "I don't want to know, just go away!"

From the driver's seat no question is asked. From the children's perspective, no future is expected.

Most of these children are slum dwellers. According to a 2004 United Nations report, the phenomenal urban growth that has taken place in the 1990s has shifted poverty from rural areas to the city. The difference is that in rural areas it is easier for people to obtain food than it is in the city. The same report states that more than 550 million people live in slum conditions in Asia. Jakarta has its fair share of those.

A few among these children are lucky enough to work in markets or in warung (sidewalk stalls), helping their families, but others are forced to beg. These join the many street children who are orphans in wandering the streets of the capital.

For these children, begging is the best-case scenario. Other scenarios include petty crime or prostitution. According to a report by the National Commission on Violence Against Women, there are 70,000 underage sex workers in Indonesia but most believe there are actually many more.

No one argues that these children should not be begging or even worse. No one argues that they should be playing and enjoying what is supposed to be a "careless time of one's life." Few would disagree that Indonesia is failing its children and not living up to the obligations undertaken by signing the United Nations Convention of Children's Rights on Nov. 20, 1990. The convention, approved by 190 nations besides Indonesia, advocates basic rights for children, including education, health care, protection from physical and emotional abuse, labor exploitation and prostitution.

It is a fact that Indonesia faces a difficult time both politically and financially, but today's children are tomorrow's leaders, or tomorrow's unemployed, drug addicts and muggers. Education remains the key, and, while it is true that it is a mammoth task to provide funds and education for the seventy million children across the archipelago, the hard reality is that there are no alternatives.

Education should be prioritized. Laws are in place but enforcement is lacking, and without it the government's mandatory education program is a toothless tool. It looks good on paper and appeases international organizations, but does nothing more.

A snapshot: On Jl. H.O.S. Cokroaminoto, at the traffic lights, just outside the Indian cultural center. She is possibly five or maybe six, pretty, but with a lost, absent gaze. She does not talk nor smile, nor does she answer questions.

She mumbles constantly. She does not seem to care and casually walks from car to car, pushing a plastic glass to the window. If the car window is opened, she will hit the passengers. She is there, day in, day out, but she is invisible to all. She is just another child beggar. Who is looking after this little girl?

-- Fabio Scarpello