The boy lived in Multan and worked as help at a motor workshop. A customer took him with them on the pretext of a repair job, knocked him out with an anesthetic, and took him to Faisalabad. When he was rescued by the Child Protection Bureau from the city’s bus stand, he had already been sexually abused. Another boy hailing from Lahore’s Badami Bagh locality could not survive the sexual assault. Days after he went missing, police found his body.
Rudyard Kipling had called the alleys and Bazars of Lahore ‘roaring whirls’. The roar of these whirls has anything but multiplied. The sidewalks, parks and tombs of the city are teeming with thousands of children surviving as beggars, pushers, mechanic helps, rattling oil bottles for massage, or simply forced to become sex workers. No attention is given to where they sleep or live or study or marry, and what happens to them when they die. They probably do not get a decent burial, and there are no mourners.
No crisis is a crisis unless it is personal. The social media hype about what appears to be a series of kidnappings in Lahore has created such paranoia that abduction appears as an imminent threat. The tales have become ominous and imaginative, ranging from extraction of cadavers to transportation abroad in cardboard boxes. The government has not been able to assuage the concerns that follow such graphic rumors. The paranoia has reached a level that a mother who was out with her toddler was beaten up because people said the child did not resemble her. Passersby have been beaten up by mobs in many cities on slightest of suspicions.
The mismatch between government data and public perception is glaring and huge. Police asserts that the number of missing children is lower than being projected, and there are rare cases of abductions in Lahore, none of them recent. The Child Protection Bureau, the specialized unit for children’s welfare, agrees with the police findings. It has reunited 4,000 children with their parents, most of whom had run away from home. The non-government apparatus has not carried out a thorough investigation of the rumors. But the public continues to be fearful.
The onus to engage them institutionally and systematically is on the government. A routine press release or casual denial exacerbates fears rather than allaying them. The public’s mistrust has historical roots too. Denial, fudging and obfuscation are hallmarks of our governance system. The people of Lahore cannot forget that there lived a man in this city by the name of Javed Iqbal, who had tens of young boys in a few months, dissolved their bodies in acid, and was not caught until he went to the police and reporters and confessed.
The present situation also raises serious questions about policy towards the vulnerable segments of the society. The threat of abductions may be exaggerated, but the existing protection mechanism presents a sorry picture. A province with a population of 100 million has only seven Child Production Bureaus in which 47 officials and six child psychologists deal with thousands of acute cases. A major part of the province is not covered altogether. Local council systems, which are supposed to act as a bridge between the public and government, are still non-functional, and when available, their focus is on paving streets and erecting new buildings, rather than welfare and protection. Police is the core agency responsible for the protection of life and property against criminals, but is the least trusted, because of their unimaginative and redundant responses to social problems.
Parents and family are the only protection mechanism for children in our system, and those who are not fortunate enough to have this protection are at the mercy of predators. The purpose of abducting a child from affluent background is mostly ransom, and even an isolated incident makes big news. But the less privileged are at continuous risk of abuse and exploitation. The Punjab Destitute and Neglected Children Act of 2004 is itself a victim of neglect, and is destitute due to the paltry funds allocated to its operation. There is no law to protect children working as domestic help, who are an example of modern day slavery and a shame for the civilized society. There is a law for industrial workers, but it is hardly implemented. The rehabilitation of homeless and beggar children is non-existent, while those who have been subject to abuse have to transform themselves into offenders to survive in the absence of a rehabilitation mechanism.
A responsible state has to ensure the welfare of its children and their protection from all sorts of exploitations in all circumstances. Nargis Gul, from the slums of Chakwal, has beaten the odds and achieved academic honour, but slums are spreading and not shrinking. Our alleys and bazaars will be safe only when children do not wait to be abducted for the government to come and help them.
Rudyard Kipling had called the alleys and Bazars of Lahore ‘roaring whirls’. The roar of these whirls has anything but multiplied. The sidewalks, parks and tombs of the city are teeming with thousands of children surviving as beggars, pushers, mechanic helps, rattling oil bottles for massage, or simply forced to become sex workers. No attention is given to where they sleep or live or study or marry, and what happens to them when they die. They probably do not get a decent burial, and there are no mourners.
No crisis is a crisis unless it is personal. The social media hype about what appears to be a series of kidnappings in Lahore has created such paranoia that abduction appears as an imminent threat. The tales have become ominous and imaginative, ranging from extraction of cadavers to transportation abroad in cardboard boxes. The government has not been able to assuage the concerns that follow such graphic rumors. The paranoia has reached a level that a mother who was out with her toddler was beaten up because people said the child did not resemble her. Passersby have been beaten up by mobs in many cities on slightest of suspicions.
The mismatch between government data and public perception is glaring and huge. Police asserts that the number of missing children is lower than being projected, and there are rare cases of abductions in Lahore, none of them recent. The Child Protection Bureau, the specialized unit for children’s welfare, agrees with the police findings. It has reunited 4,000 children with their parents, most of whom had run away from home. The non-government apparatus has not carried out a thorough investigation of the rumors. But the public continues to be fearful.
The onus to engage them institutionally and systematically is on the government. A routine press release or casual denial exacerbates fears rather than allaying them. The public’s mistrust has historical roots too. Denial, fudging and obfuscation are hallmarks of our governance system. The people of Lahore cannot forget that there lived a man in this city by the name of Javed Iqbal, who had tens of young boys in a few months, dissolved their bodies in acid, and was not caught until he went to the police and reporters and confessed.
The present situation also raises serious questions about policy towards the vulnerable segments of the society. The threat of abductions may be exaggerated, but the existing protection mechanism presents a sorry picture. A province with a population of 100 million has only seven Child Production Bureaus in which 47 officials and six child psychologists deal with thousands of acute cases. A major part of the province is not covered altogether. Local council systems, which are supposed to act as a bridge between the public and government, are still non-functional, and when available, their focus is on paving streets and erecting new buildings, rather than welfare and protection. Police is the core agency responsible for the protection of life and property against criminals, but is the least trusted, because of their unimaginative and redundant responses to social problems.
Parents and family are the only protection mechanism for children in our system, and those who are not fortunate enough to have this protection are at the mercy of predators. The purpose of abducting a child from affluent background is mostly ransom, and even an isolated incident makes big news. But the less privileged are at continuous risk of abuse and exploitation. The Punjab Destitute and Neglected Children Act of 2004 is itself a victim of neglect, and is destitute due to the paltry funds allocated to its operation. There is no law to protect children working as domestic help, who are an example of modern day slavery and a shame for the civilized society. There is a law for industrial workers, but it is hardly implemented. The rehabilitation of homeless and beggar children is non-existent, while those who have been subject to abuse have to transform themselves into offenders to survive in the absence of a rehabilitation mechanism.
A responsible state has to ensure the welfare of its children and their protection from all sorts of exploitations in all circumstances. Nargis Gul, from the slums of Chakwal, has beaten the odds and achieved academic honour, but slums are spreading and not shrinking. Our alleys and bazaars will be safe only when children do not wait to be abducted for the government to come and help them.