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As I walk through one of the streets of Lebanon, I notice children, some as young as three, extending their hands in the hope of getting some money to buy a loaf of bread and a bottle of water. Their clothes are ripped and their skin and hair are soiled.
As I walk through another street, I see children trying to make their living. It tears me up to see their innocent, sad faces staring back at me hoping that I will buy their gum packs.
I often ask myself, where are those who brought them to this world? Where is the government? Isn’t there anybody else, besides myself, who is able to see inside their eyes? Can anybody see how desperate and helpless they are? What have they done to deserve such wretchedness? Doesn’t anyone see that something ought to be done to put an end to their misery?
The image of homeless children has become imprinted in my mind. Every time I meet one, I remember Leila the eight year old girl I met one day on my way to the movies. She was sitting under a tree, waiting imploringly, her frail body trembling like the tree leaves hanging over her, and her eyes hiding the fear and consternation that pervaded her. Upon observing so poignant a scene, I asked her if she would come with me to get some food. Her reaction was unexpectedly aggressive. Defensively, she refused, because she feared that I would beat her if she did not do what I ordered her to. To ease her doubts, I gave her 5,000 Lebanese liras and promised to give her more after she had chosen a place to have dinner. Upon this venture, the poor girl clutched onto the bill as if her life depended on it and led me to a restaurant where workers were often kind enough to give her leftovers.
As we walked into the little diner and sat on the table, the head waiter approached us and started screaming at Leila. He thought that she had been following me and threatened to beat her up. After I explained to him the purpose of my visit, he retreated, dubiously though, as if waiting for us to commit a crime. While we were waiting for the food to be served, I asked Leila to talk about herself. She told me that it had been one year since she had been living alone on the streets. She said that her parents abandoned her because she was considered a burden on the family.
With five sisters and three brothers, all bringing income to the household through begging and selling stolen items, Leila could not be accommodated. She did not contribute to the household income because she was too shy too beg, steal products and sell them. Thus, she was considered “the black sheep of the family,” an extra mouth to feed which was good for nothing. As little Leila was speaking, I was puzzled. I could see dire poverty before my eyes. I was dining with it, talking to it. It was so omnipresent and powerful. I stood in awe of it for I could sense its magnitude. I suddenly became aware of the seriousness of this calamity and how lucky I was not to be affected by it. However, I felt ashamed of my ignorance and incapability in the face of this immense tragedy. Leila is just an example among the millions of deprived souls in my country and the Arab region, souls who are bound to face misery and destitution everyday.
The food arrived. Leila had ordered a chicken burger with fries and a coke. She devoured her portion with extraordinary speed. As she finished, her eyes gleamed, showing how blissful she was after she had her meal. My encounter with poverty ended when I took Leila to an orphanage where she received proper care. I knew later that she was a fast learner and had a talent for drawing.
I am very happy for Leila but extremely sad for other Leilas that are all over the streets. Is putting homeless children in orphanages a proper solution to end the problem of poverty that many Arab people face? No, for the problem is more severe than that. Something ought to be done to eradicate poverty so that children or any other human being may not be left abandoned to fend for themselves.
What should be done?
The beginning of the third millennium has indeed brought a ray of hope to those miserable in this world. The international community has asserted to put an end to the suffering of millions of people by adopting the Millennium Declaration, in which they vowed to achieve eight Millennium Development Goals by the year 2015. Eradicating extreme hunger and poverty, which stands first on the list, necessitates urgent action in the Arab world.
Achieving the Goals does not rest solely in the hands of governments. The Millennium Campaign speaks to youths as well. Therefore, I believe that in countries where there is a high birth rate and where this rate is a direct cause of extreme poverty, youths should campaign to make governments adopt laws that regulate birth. This should prevent an increase of the level of poverty in these countries. Young groups could work on collecting data on Gross Domestic Product and other statistics, which would facilitate the work of governments in providing these laws, especially where administration is corrupt.
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Writer Profile
Dmitriy Kokarev
My name is Dmitriy Kokarev-Rizk.
I was born in Russia and spent the first six years of my life in Moscow. Afterwards I had to travel to Lebanon, my father's homeland, where I am living at the moment.
I developed an interest in writing when I was still a child and since then have been writing and reading anything I could get my hands on.
I graduated high school last year and am going to attend NDU University in order to major in English Literature.
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