Abused Children - suffering any time, any place

I am sitting in the train to Berlin. I still have two hours to go, before arriving. I am visiting one of the best European centres for the treatment of torture victims.

I have just finished reading the Amnesty International publication: “Abused and Abandoned: Refugees Denied Rights in Malaysia”. It is a very depressing document to read; the reality of the lives of these refugees in Malaysia is a shame for the country.

A brief quote from the conclusion of the report: “For those refugees and asylum-seekers who are forced to flee their homelands in search of protection, Malaysia is an unwelcoming and dangerous place. The failure of the Malaysian authorities to formally acknowledge their existence has tangible consequences which compromise their safety and are in direct contravention of international human rights standards. Risk of arrest and prolonged detention, ill-treatment, refoulment [being sent back to the place of origin], and a lack of durable solutions are not just fears but realities for refugees in Malaysia.”

MSRI is frequently confronted by refugees, especially from the Middle East, who – as a last resort – come to MSRI for help; help for medical treatment, help with the education of their children, requests for food aid, and other ‘emergency situations’ that refugees find themselves involved in Malaysia. You can find some stories on refugees in Malaysia in some of the older postings.

Life is never harder than when you find yourself in a foreign country where you have no civil rights, no right to work, or exist legally, where you do not exist at all and have no legal identity.

Well, maybe I am wrong, and a life without love and care in your own country can be as hard.

I remember the exhibition I saw last week in Baden, Switzerland. It was on ‘Verdingkinder’, children, who had to be placed in the care of strangers or homes until they were grown up, with a programme under the equivalent of ‘child care services’ in the 19th until the middle of the 20th century.

From my mother I know that her father, my Grandfather, had been a ‘Verdingkind’. He had been orphaned at an early age, and had been given to a farmer in Herisau, Canton Appenzell Ausserrhoden, Switzerland. As so many such children, he had been abused, had to work full-time like any other farmhand (except that he did not get any wages for his work) and if he then still had any energy left, he was allowed to attend school.

He was beaten and starved and had no prospect for a bright future.

He could not take such abuse, and at the tender age of 14 he escaped, yes, he ran away, and spent his following years with woodcutters in the mountains, a very hard life, as you can imagine. During summertime he worked as a rafter, guiding huge rafts made up of the stems of trees down the river Rhine until Rotterdam, where the wood was sold with a nice profit. This was a very dangerous job, especially for someone so young as my Grandfather was at that time; but it also provided him the opportunity to travel and see Germany and Holland, huge countries, compared to tiny little, narrow Switzerland.

From the money earned, he was able to get a place as an apprentice, becoming a painting and plastering craftsman, and later set up his own business in Wetzikon, ZH, Switzerland, as a master craftsman. He had eight children –actually twelve, but four died in their infancy – of which my mother was the last, the bongsu. He died long before I was born, my mother was still in school. So the only things I know about him are those stories that I can still remember from what my mother had told me.

It was a big shame to be a ‘Verdingkind’. These children were all deprived of a family, be it that they were full or partial orphans, be it that they were born out of wedlock, be it that they were perceived as ‘trouble-makers’, or simply that their parents were very poor and had too many children to raise. All the children to be ‘verdingt’ were brought once per year to a particular place, all those who wanted to take such a child also came there, and thus the children were matched with ‘caretakers’ who were actually more slave owners than foster parents. At such ‘slave markets’ sometimes children were matched with ‘caretakers’ with a lottery system.


The Welfare Department would pay a very small amount of money to the ‘caretaker’ for the ‘upkeep of the child’. Very often the money was used for other things. Many of the children were barefoot even in winter and were given rags to wear, not warm and decent clothes. Many were also given bad food and had to eat in the stable with the animals, not with the farmer in the house.

When a child rebelled against this abuse and stole extra food because he or she was hungry, or warm clothes, or worse - ran away, the child was immediately labeled as a ‘trouble maker’, a ‘bad boy’ or a ‘bad girl’, and as punishment sent to an institution for ‘difficult children’, the type of establishment which is more reminiscent of a prison or a military school in the worst sense of the word.

Once grown up and responsible for themselves, these ‘Verdingkinder’ would not talk about their childhood even though the scars were deep and many, and stayed with them all their lives, because somehow it was a shameful thing to be a ‘Verdingkind’. Many ordinary people in Switzerland at that time thought that these children must have been bad in the first place to be put out to strangers like that.

When I look at the children of refugees in Malaysia today, I ask myself what kind of scars these children will have to bear all their lives because of their parents making the decision to leave their home and come to Malaysia, not least because it is a Muslim country and has Visa on Arrival, and because Malaysia is highly respected in the Middle East.

When we had a seminar recently on Non-Burmese Refugees, an Iraqi refugee woman said that she felt completely isolated, lonely, and shunned, just like the ‘Verdingkinder’ telling their stories in that exhibition. As true human beings we must reach out and build bridges between the people so that nobody has to go through such devastating experiences.

If you want to reach out to a refugee, please sign up to join MSRI’s “Sahabat Programme”. You can find all information on our website www.msri.org.my from next month.

Thank You for Treating Me Like a Human Being

Over the last two months, three different, unconnected and unrelated people have thanked me for treating them like human beings. What have they got in common? They are all Palestinian refugees in Malaysia.

Malaysia has not signed the 1951 UN Convention relating to the Status of Refugees. Therefore, legally, the refugee status does not exist in Malaysia. So people registered with UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner of Refugees) in Kuala Lumpur are considered illegal migrants. They are not allowed to work. Their children do not go to school. Their lives have been suspended.

They are waiting for resettlement to a third country through UNHCR, but this takes time. 2-3 years is no exception. Some families pull together all resources and live together in rented apartments, one family per room. Some get a bit of support from caring Malaysians, some from Arabs doing business in Malaysia. Some bachelors stay in suraus.

MSRI, the Malaysian Social Research Institute, the organisation I work for, is managing a Palestinian trust fund. Among other aid programmes, we also have a Sponsorship Programme for Palestinian Children in Lebanon. Because of these programmes, Palestinian refugees in Malaysia often find their way to my office in Jalan U Thant, Ampang. Like the three men mentioned above.

Wherever they turn to in their distress about their situation, whoever they approach will be sympathetic. But most people do not want to hear about the hardship these Palestinians face here. Malaysia is supposed to be this tropical paradise, and refugees, not only Palestinian but also for example Burma refugees only spoil the picture. So most people just turn away; the ones who have some empathy will press a 50Ringgit note into their ourstreched hands before turning away.

It is particularly bitter for Palestinian refugees from Gaza to read in the newspapers that millions of aid and support is going to Gaza; to see all the banners hanging at many places in the cities, mosques, bridges and other strategic places declaring the solidarity of the Malaysian people with the people in Gaza, while they, also from Gaza, live the lonely lives of refugees right in their midst.

Over the last two years, more Palestinian refugees from the Middle-East have come to Malaysia, ususally after having spent months beeing pushed from one country to the other, or from war zones such as Iraq. They come to Malaysia because here they can get "Visa on Arrival" which is valid for one month. So increasing numbers of Palestinian refugees are also arriving at my doorstep.

What MSRI can do to help these people is very limited. First of all, we will talk to them and evaluate their situation. We actually listen to their stories, mostly very sad and tragic stories. In times to come I might just tell some of them here. We listen when they pour out their frustration with their current situation and their powerlessness to change anything and to be in charge of their lives, their suspended lives in Malaysia. We offer a sympathetic ear and a cup of coffee or tea. This is why I hear this sentence so often: "Thank you for treating me like a human being!"

I want to cry when they say that. No human being should have to say that sentence. Particularly not in Malaysia, where we all pride ourselves to be part of a caring society.

After evaluating their situation we are looking at how we can help. The immediate support includes emergency food aid and medical support. A short-term goal must be to get the children to school. The refugees also need some sort of income to sustain themselves until they can be resettled. Mid-term goals are successful resettlements. The ultimate goal is for Malaysia to implement refugee rights according to international law.

But this will take time.

Until such time, I wonder how many times I will have to hear that sentence: "Thank you for treating me like a human being."