In Cairo, hordes of street kids, but no longer ignored
The Egyptian government and nonprofit groups are stepping up efforts to help street children.
from the January 31, 2008 edition
Page 2 of 3
But when a new general secretary took over the Council on Childhood and Motherhood, she brought a revolutionary vision toward social problems, says Somaya al-Alfy, head of the street children section at the council, which is a government-run advocacy group.
"Do not say 'Everything is OK. We don't have any problems.' No, we will say the truth and try to solve it," says Ms. Alfy of General Secretary Mushira Khtab's view.
With lobbying by the council and UNICEF, Suzanne Mubarak, the wife of Egypt's autocratic leader, agreed in 2003 to put her clout behind an effort to change the law and protect kids. While the effort to amend the law has languished, acknowledgment of the problem opened the door for more charities to start offering services.
A year later, reports surfaced of a gruesome string of murders that shocked Egyptians, raising the profile of the issue. Ramadan Mansour, a man in his mid-20s, was arrested and convicted of raping and killing dozens of street children.
By 2004, local charities like Ma'weh and Touflti and Caritas, a Roman Catholic charitable network, started establishing half-day centers for street kids. Last year, four of them used UNICEF funding to buy the van they drive through Cairo's streets at night offering help to kids.
By 2007, there were 24,000 visits to the half-day centers run by the five nongovernmental organizations UNICEF works with, including repeat visits, says Nadra Zaki, project officer for UNICEF's child protection program in Egypt, and there were about 1,000 new visits.
Zaki says the goal now is to push through the changes to Egyptian law and offer advanced support like psychiatric care.
"The sheer fact that the children are being handled by police is an abusive act," she says.
UNICEF is funding some of those initiatives such as one at the Ma'weh shelter, which is using art therapy. Recently half a dozen boys from a gang that sleeps near one another for protection on a busy four-lane road nearby, scribble with pencils on orange paper. Azouz is the proud artist of the group. He says he learned to draw at the shelter and now can sketch any animal on demand.
Last year, an art therapy expert taught the staff that it could draw out the feelings of the children, who are deeply distrustful of strangers, through such creative expression.









