Listen to thisRecently, I received a WhatsApp message from an unknown number that read, "I am so upset with you and have a mountain of grievances against you in my heart. How can people called 'father' forget their daughter like this??? (Assalamu alaikum sir, Apni kemn asen, Apnar opor amr mone akta pahar soman oviman jome ase. Baba namer manus gulo ai vabe tar konna k vule jai???)."
I didn’t recognise the number, so I called it. From the other end, the first sentence after greetings was, "Why didn't you keep in contact with us for all these years? I have searched for you many times, but no one could give me your contact details. Sohagi Apa (another care leaver - 'Apa' means sister and is a respectful way to address an older female) told me you spoke to her a few days ago and asked about me. She gave me your phone number. Once I got your number, I couldn't wait to reconnect with you. How are you, Abbu (Dad)?" She asked all these very quickly, her voice upset and emotional. She cried. She is Nargis, a young female care leaver around 35 years of age, who grew up in our children’s Home where I used to work.
Nargis and seven other girls were brought to our children's Home from an organisation located near the largest brothel in the country, which had over 5000 sex workers. Their shelter home was approximately 100 miles away from our Home. The CEO of that organisation requested our help, knowing we provided better support for the children of sex workers. After communication, background checks, and consent from the girls and their guardians, they were brought to our Home. They arrived at our Home at ages 10 to 12.
We found Nargis to be a very cheerful, happy, and supportive girl in her personal life. While she wasn't exceptional academically, her other skills were impressive. She resembled a famous television actress in our country, so the children at the Home started calling her by the actress's name. After they settled in, all seven girls brought their siblings, including Nargis's younger brother, to the children's Home.
Nargis spent over ten years in the children's Home and left after marrying Robiul, who also grew up there. A few years ago, we hired Robiul as an ambulance driver at our hospital. The organisation hosted a grand wedding for Nargis and Robiul, and upon leaving the Home, both received financial, emotional, and security support from the organisation to start their new lives. You can find part of Robiul's story here (Beginning to Work with Sex Workers and their Children: A Personal Reflection. Relational Child & Youth Care Practice, Vol. 28 Issue 2, p65.)
Nargis and Robiul both participated in my PhD research. (Read more in "Gratitude: A Mantra for Thriving - A Young Care Leaver Story" https://cyc-net.org/cyc-online/cyconline-jul2024-islam.html ).
Nargis and I talked about many things, but mostly about our time at the Home, sharing good and not-so-good memories. We talked about how the children were taken care of, the values instilled in them, the caregivers, love and affection, and structured programmes that helped foster a sense of brotherhood and sisterhood among the children. She also talked about a principal who was a real hero in creating a positive environment.
During a surprise monitoring visit to the Home, I witnessed the children sitting in the playground, joyfully sharing small slices of mangoes. Despite the limited quantity, everyone willingly participated, and no one expressed dissatisfaction with the size of the slices.
Upon further inquiry, I learned that the children had been collecting mangoes that had fallen from the trees and storing them in the principal's office. They were saving the mangoes so that they could be distributed equitably among all the children. This was the first batch of mangoes for the season, and as the mangoes on the trees were not yet ripe, the children refrained from picking them. Although the Home would typically purchase mangoes for the children during the season, the gesture of sharing a small slice with others was particularly touching to me. It was a testament to the children's selflessness and concern for one another.
In the principal's absence, I inquired with the teachers about the inspiration behind the children's actions, and they attributed it to the positive example set by the principal. The children now look up to him, and the Home is more organised because of his influence.
Nargis also spoke about a caring female teacher who treated them like their mothers. She often overlooked their silly mistakes and refrained from complaining to the principal, so they did not get caught, punished, scolded, or reminded. "She seemed to understand our feelings and age," Nargis added.
Nargis lives near the capital city and is happy with her husband and two daughters, aged seven and three. She is a homemaker, and her husband, Robiul, is a rental car driver and earns a decent income. Nargis said she is saving money for her daughters' future studies because education is very expensive, especially when getting admission to a good school.
However, they had a very hard life for three years, and during that time, she was desperately looking for my contact number. Robiul had been falsely accused of a murder and drug-selling case. To avoid arrest, police torture, and being put in jail, Robiul left his job and went into hiding to prepare to prove his innocence in the case. Nargis said Robiul didn't even know who had filed the case against him and why. She was very upset with the CEO, as, according to her, they didn't receive enough emotional, mental, financial, and legal support they needed to prove their innocence.
In Robiul's case, the Children’s Home was under police scrutiny, and the law enforcement agency unlawfully harassed the Home and parent organisation officials and the children to find Robiul. Due to excessive pressure from the police, as a strategy the CEO needed to reduce contact with Nargis, which affected them greatly. In a conversation with Nargis, the CEO even agitatedly told her that it seemed they had made a mistake in rescuing them from the brothel and providing love, affection, and care. The CEO expressed concern that all Home children and the organisation were in danger due to Robiul's actions, and it seemed they had not changed, still relating to the culture of killing, human trafficking, and drug trafficking. After this incident, Nargis stopped communicating with the CEOs for seven years. Eventually, after years of fighting, the allegations were proved false, but they had to go through a very hard time socially, physically, mentally, spiritually, and financially.
Nargis mentioned that they received very little support from anyone during their difficult times after the CEO reduced his contact with them. “At that time, I sought your help, guidance, and direction to overcome that critical situation. I remember how you adjusted the policy to prevent Robiul and Johnny from being expelled from the home and how you handled Sonia's police case. We respected you because you were always on the right side without judging us. If we were wrong, you would protect us first and then scold us, just like a parent would. During our conversation, she became very emotional and sometimes addressed me as "Abbu" (dad), which was a bit unexpected but not surprising, since I always used to refer to all girls as my daughters and all boys as my sons when I was with them.”
Nargis's brother left home a few years ago after completing his master's degree. The organisation has given him a job as a poverty alleviation assistant manager. As the elder sister, Nargis was tasked with organising everything for her brother's marriage. Before her brother's marriage, she thought it would be wise to consult the CEO about her brother's wedding plan. She wanted to express their gratitude to the CEO for the support and care she and her brother, husband, and other children received and to seek his blessings.
After seven years of silence and initial hesitation, Nargis called the CEO and became emotional when she heard his voice. The CEO was delighted to hear from her and invited her to visit. Nargis, her two daughters, and her husband went to meet the CEO. Nargis described the emotional moment when the CEO stood up from his chair to hug her and her daughters, and they all cried. Her daughters were confused and asked why they were crying.
As a father figure, the CEO regretted not being there for them directly at the critical time and questioned why Nargis hadn't brought her daughters to meet him sooner. Nargis was moved by the CEO's display of love and care, and she found herself withdrawing the complaints against him from the past. The CEO explained to her why he could not support them directly as he had to prioritise the children in the Home and the organisation's well-being as the founder and father of many. However, Nargis realised that she had received indirect support from the organisation, which was orchestrated by the CEO himself. She acknowledged that she may not have fully understood the situation at the time.
Nargis and her kids had a good time with the CEO and shared the news of her brother's marriage. The CEO was very happy and arranged a wedding ceremony at the children's Home. A significant amount of money was spent, just like that spent by the children's parents.
I learned a lot from her about other care leavers – how they're doing, who is doing well and struggling, and shared some good memories. She also gave me the contact details of some care leavers and the hero principal who left the children's Home a few years ago. She also sent me pictures of her daughters and her brother's wedding.
Nargis mentioned that the CEO's health has declined as he ages. He recently had bypass surgery and has been experiencing hearing problems. She asked me to speak to the CEO, and I agreed.
I assured her that when I visit the country, I will make sure to visit her.
The last thing she said to me was, "Abbu (Dad), I didn't realise I would be out of touch with you for so long. Now that we're connected, we must ensure we never lose touch again."
After receiving the contact details from Nargis, I called two young men. One is working as a salesman in Saudi Arabia, and the other is in his home country, running a furniture-making and selling business after completing his master's in sociology. He married a girl from the children's Home who is now working in the organisation as a manager of the poverty alleviation programme. I will gradually share their stories with you.
Amid negative stories about residential child and youth care practices, Nargis's story is a breath of fresh air. There are thousands of positive stories in every country and society, like Nargis's, but they are rarely told by the media, NGOs, or researchers who advocate aggressive so-called de-institutionalization and claim to be experts in child and youth care.
In a country where children like Nargis face significant stigma and discrimination due to their birth identity, they are at risk of various forms of abuse and exploitation. We have made considerable progress by providing these children with the hope and support they need to thrive, ensuring their safety and reintegration into society through employment, marriages, and other opportunities after leaving care. These children receive better support than their peers raised by their parents, particularly in securing jobs and social reintegration, in a nation where approximately 2.59 million people were unemployed in the first quarter of 2024. Securing employment is challenging due to intense competition and corruption.
Currently, students in this country are protesting the discriminatory and unfair quota system for government jobs, which has escalated significantly, leading to widespread unrest and violence, leading to over 300 deaths and thousands of injuries.
On a limited scale, this one organisation has cared for at least these 3000 children, and thousands are benefitting from other child and youth care practices around the country.
Some advocates in the West and their allies in the Majority world focus solely on promoting the so-called de-institutionalisation of residential child and youth care through activities like writing, policy development, and advocacy. However, this may not always be in the best interest of children and young people in the Majority world. Instead, it could involve imposing Western ideas and disrupting local cultures, values, and religions, all in the name of creating job opportunities for themselves.
Howard Bath recently presented a paper titled 'Unexpected Re-emergence of Residential Care in Australia' at the Sydney Association of Children's Welfare Agencies (ACWA) conference. He highlighted the increasing use of residential care over the past three decades, discussing challenges such as declining provisions from government departments and issues with reliance on small group units. Bath emphasised that reducing residential care to cut costs fails to address the ongoing needs of young people. Ainsworth and his colleagues had similarly noted this issue nearly 20 years ago in their paper ‘A dream come true – no more residential care. A corrective note’.
Additionally, the belief that foster and family care are superior to residential care lacks solid evidence. There is no conclusive proof that foster care produces better outcomes than institutional care.
Reflecting on my conversation with Nargis, I couldn't help but consider the perceived emotional differences between girls and boys. Her demeanour reminded me of a daughter speaking to her father, hence the term “daddy’s girls.” It was heartwarming to hear her affectionately call me “Abbu” with such love and affection. Nargis expressed her gratitude for the support, love, and affection she received from the teachers, CEO, me, and the children during and after her Home life. Initially, due to her hurt feelings, she considered not seeking advice from the CEO about her brother's marriage. However, she broke her silence to mend their relationship, still respecting him as her guardian, which ultimately resulted in a fantastic outcome.
Despite most Western literature and charities often blaming residential care for weakening family bonds and leading to poor educational and health outcomes for children, Nargis's experiences show that residential childcare can benefit many underprivileged children and young people. This challenges the Western notion of imposing their ideals on the Majority world. The West needs to start believing that the Majority world has much to offer, resetting the developed world’s child and youth care systems and practices. Therefore, it is crucial for the West to conduct more comparative research among and between developed and developing countries led by the developing countries' academics and practitioners before they preach and impose their own idealism on the Majority world.
Nargis's story (along with many others) is a testament to the positive impact of residential care, highlighting the need for the West to reconsider their perspective and embrace insights from different cultures and experiences.
