Opinion: Haitian child exploitation overlooked
When the United Nations and the United States arrived in Haiti and began handing out food, water and health kits, a gut-wrenching scene unfolded amidst the aftermath of Hurricane Ike. As Haiti’s families received relief food, off to the side stood the island’s unlucky impoverished: the “restaveks,” Haiti’s destitute child laborers. Being Haitian society’s neglected outcasts, they waited to see if they could grab any unwanted food for themselves.
It’s enough to make anyone boil with indignant anger. However, this situation has not received the attention it warrants.
The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) reports that nearly 300,000 Haitian children essentially become slaves through the restavek system.
Haiti’s rural families live in isolated villages that have no access to electricity or running water. The destitution is appalling. As such, educational opportunity is limited because parents cannot afford to send their children to school.
The restavek system has flourished since 1804 because rural families are convinced that their children would receive valuable education, and lead a better life in the city.
That is the false jewel that urban families dangle in front of rural families’ faces — a terrible trick and an empty promise.
The majority of restaveks never actually get to attend school. While the wealthier children have access to such privileges, the restaveks remain at the house, performing a number of tiresome, domestic chores. And there’s nothing that the exploited children can do about it.
In July 2008, ABC Nightline correspondent Dan Harris traveled to Haiti to investigate the restavek system. He met 8-year-old Onise, who performs forced labor for her host family in return for minimal sustenance and a roof over her head. If she refuses or fails to complete her chores, she gets whipped with an electric wire, as the scars on her forearms testify.
It’s almost ironic considering how Haiti gained independence from France via a slave revolt. Yet, restaveks have melted into Haitian society as a frighteningly acceptable practice. For example, Harris met with a restavek dealer in a restaurant as part of the investigation. Nearby waiters overheard his conversation, and rather than telling-off Harris, actually offered to sell him a restavek at a cheaper price than the dealer’s.
It’s upsetting to think that slavery persists to this day, albeit in lesser-known forms. Yet, not many people are trying to help Haiti’s children to the best of their ability. However, as students ourselves, we can easily sympathize and find simple ways to help alleviate the restaveks’ suffering.
Consider this: the PTA at Seth Boyden Elementary School in Maplewood, NJ established a sister-school relationship with three primary schools in Fond des Blancs, a southwestern area in Haiti. In May of 2007, they started their new outreach program by collecting school supplies and distributing them to the Haitian schools.
It’s a small miracle. By donating to these schools in ways that we can, we simultaneously help to encourage a better learning environment for Haitian’s children and lower the cost of enrollment, which would save a number of children from being forced into the restavek system or even increase the chance of restaveks being allowed to attend school.
As former U.N. observer Tamara Thompson said, education is what will eventually end the restavek system. Little Onise may have her shot at success and perhaps she may find herself in a position to help those who might not yet be released from the restavek’s life of servitude.