Sleeping on the streets and begging for alms have become a way of life for these children and their parents, a practice discouraged by the Cebu City Task Force on Street Children. (CDN FILE PHOTO)
Love is necessary to keep children off the streets. Often, it has to be a tough kind of love where one has to say ‘no’ to a child who is begging for food or money.
“Gugma, dili limos (Love, not alms) is the advocacy of the Cebu City Task Force on Street Children, an alliance of more than 20 child-caring organizations.
Program coordinator Redentor Betito says giving food and money to street children is a band-aid solution, a one-shot deal that doesn’t really help the kids in the long run.
But saying ‘no’ sometimes leaves people feeling cold and heartless. So Betito suggests that people talk to the street children and try to make them understand the dangers of what they are doing.
According to Betito, many street children have families and homes to go to. “We have to make it difficult for them to live on the streets. If they say they need money for baon then tell them there are organizations that provide educational assistance. If they say they need money for food then tell them about organizations that sponsor feeding,” he said.
Betito is also the program coordinator of Children of Cebu Foundation Inc., which runs the Parian Drop-in Center on Sikatuna Street, a temporary shelter and processing facility that can house up to 50 kids: boys aged two to 14 years old; and girls up to 17 years old, who are orphaned, from the streets, as well as those rescued from different forms of abuse (physical, sexual, neglect, trafficking and child labor).
They determine whether the children should be returned to their homes after intervention or whether they should be placed with a permanent shelter.
“Some children run away from the center because they could not adjust to the structured life. Here, they have to go to school, they have to do chores, and they have to sleep at a certain time. On the streets where they beg, the children can eat, they can sniff rugby, they can gamble and they can sleep anytime they want. That’s why we need to make them fear the streets,” Betito explains.
The 37-year-old social development worker knows what he is talking about since he was a former street kid himself.
Betito was only 10 years old when he began working as a pin boy at the bowling alley of the Cebu Archdiocesan-run Patria de Cebu fronting the Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral. Along with friends he made there, they also washed and watched cars, sold rags and ice water, and anything that could earn them money.
The second of three siblings, Betito started working in the streets because he wanted to help his family. What his father earned as a cargo handler wasn’t enough to feed the family of five, which moved constantly and lived in slum areas in the city. Sometimes, they had drug lords for neighbors.
Things started to change when a teenaged Betito met people from the Cebu City Task Force on Street Children. He and his friends were given the opportunity to take part in programs such as leadership training, value formation, life skills sessions, team-building and many others. His friends participated halfheartedly as they were only there for the food.
But Betito had a powerful motivation: to get out of the slums. The Task Force helped him find a sponsor for his education.
When he reached college, Betito became a working student after he was hired by one of the nongovernment organizations under the Task Force. From doing clerical work, he went on to become an outreach worker and, later an HIV advocacy officer. Through hard work, he earned a diploma in public administration.
Now, Betito works in an office that is barely a kilometer away from his old haunts. He sometimes passes by the Cathedral area and sees childhood friends there. His friends, who are usually drunk, would greet him with tales about their other friends who are now serving time in prison.
Betito hopes his story can inspire the kids that cross his path, just like what the mentors at the Task Force did for him.
The center needs P180,000 a month to operate. It has regular donors but there are times when money is tight. The annual cost of a child staying at the center is around P41,400 and more than three-quarters of that is spent on food.
Betito says the center can always use donations in kind — rice, laundry powder, cooking oil, bath soap and milk powder. Used clothing for children aged 3 to 6 years old will be much appreciated, as most used clothing they get are for bigger kids and adults.
The center also welcomes volunteers and interns. Julie Piper Rosendahl, 24, was one of the foreign interns at the center last December. She is from Denmark, a country where there are no street children.
She shared she had difficulty understanding the children so she tried to teach the kids a few words in English and she also tried to learn a few words in Bisaya. But sometimes, language wasn’t the only barrier. A young boy around six years old had been clinging to her one morning. He didn’t speak but he didn’t want to leave the comfort of her lap. Rosendahl said she wished she knew what was wrong.
Homer Tabudlong, a social worker at the center, says most of the kids come from dysfunctional families who suffered from physical abuse and their number-one issue is trust. “When they come here, they really crave attention. They want to be carried and comforted. Sometimes we have difficulty connecting with them but actions truly work better than words. Sometimes, all they need is a simple hug,” says Tabudlong.
Betito hopes the community will support their advocacy of giving love, not alms, to the street children. “After all, social development is a partnership,” he says.