Visit to Ladli 2007

Jaipur, October 2007

After a year’s absence I am on my way to Jaipur to visit Ladli.  Neema, my Indian agent, is sitting beside me.  She is the same age as me and equally objective.  The dry landscape glides past the windows of our rented car as we drive from Dehli to Jaipur.  Despite modernisation of the road, there are still a few camels and carts to be seen.  Lorries dominate and many look homemade. If the road narrows, it is not a case for meeting vehicles to edge past each other.  Instead they force their way over pavements and market stalls, into a tight knot and then madly blast on their horns.  That is how it works in India.

    The children had also reheased a dance. 

    Think how nice it is to play and dance and

    listen to nice indian music. Children need

    to smile and feel some fun in their lives.

 On arrival at the guesthouse in Jaipur, we are welcomed by Abha and Prabhakar.  “Oh, you look so beautiful”, says Abha, who is always full of kind words.  She gives us a warm smile.  We must have a spot of lunch after our journey.  Today it is vegetarian, but we have hardly sat down in the restaurant before Abha’s telephone rings. It is the police.  During a raid they have found three girls aged 13-14, who have been held as prostitutes.  Can Ladli take them in?  It is like this all the time, the couple tell us.  They often receive calls from the police, railway and social authorities and even shop owners, who find children left alone to look after themselves.  Some of the children have run away from home, or from pimps and begging masters.  The need seems never-ending.  The street scene in Jaipur, the pink city of former glory, is a crazy chaos of charm, muck, traffic, cows and rubbish.  Adults and children live on the streets or in slums, and it is obvious that some of them are ill.  Some sit and search through the rubbish.  Is there something to eat? Is there something that can be sold?  In fact on one street corner a family of three rummage through a pile of rubbish.  They are called “Ragpickers”.  They sort through the rubbish – an unhygienic, stinking and wretched way of making a living.  One is sentenced to a life in extreme poverty. These people are grey, filthy and with tousled hair, perhaps having nothing more to sleep under at night than a tarpaulin.  

    Here we all are after the dance.

    Theyare so proud to show me how good

    they are.

Lunch is over and Mr and Mrs Goswani want to show me the latest addition to Ladli.  A new day centre for Muslim girls which is a direct result of A&C selling the jewellery made here.  This day centre is located in a house near a large slum.  The girls come every day at 10 o’clock and stay for 8 hours.  Their ages vary but most are between 8 and 16 years old.  In the course of the day they receive dinner, education, dancing classes, they can wash themselves, learn social skills and – make jewellery.   These girls are not orphans – they just live under hopeless circumstances.  Many of them are ragpickers and must work together with their parents from 6 o’clock in the morning, but because they are paid for the jewellery they make, their parents permit them to participate at the day centre. 

    I have to look at all the books and admire

    them. The Ladli workcentre is a wonderfull

    opportunity for these girls. Otherwise they

    would spend the days on the streets.

The girls have looked forward to my arrival.  They call me Birgit-didi and they have written my name on the stairs in coloured chalks.  They are well-prepared, have practiced their dance show, cleaned up and decorated.  There is something about having a goal to work towards. I must sit down and admire the jewellery they have made and then watch them dance.  Colourful girls sway their arms and hips graciously in the best Bollywood style.  I am allowed to join in and stand in the middle of the row trying to follow.  I reflect on what dance and music does for the human mind. How being able to feel joy, to be able to play and smile a little every day, is medicine for a young person who would otherwise have to struggle in a sorrowful existence.  Afterwards I must see their schoolbooks.  They are taught writing, arithmetic and drawing, and without Ladli, these girls would not have received any education. They also learn about hygiene, nutrition and HIV.

   Jewellery making is fun. And the girls earn  

   some money too, which they can take home.

   Otherwise their parents would not allow

   them to go. Then they had to work as

   ragpickers (garbage sorting) instead. We are

   so happy we can provide something better to

   do. Something which can secure them a

   better future.

There are orphans living in the children’s home and some comprise entire families.  I know little Pinky.  She ran away from home to escape her violent father, but he came back to collect her.  The next time she ran away she took all her brothers and sisters with her and the three of them now live at the children’s home.  I am impressed by her bravery.  Many of the street children are sold into prostitution.  If they are caught in a police raid, people turn up afterwards and introduce themselves a parent and demand to take the children with them.  These children must be protected in secure houses.  Other children are forced into begging.  Violence, threats and sexual exploitation are common and in addition there is extreme poverty, malnutrition and illness.  It is a hard world.

    The boys are learning to become tailors.

    They are practicing mass production by

    making the jewellery pouches. They are

    made from Rajastani turban fabric. They

    are available at all A&C stores.

When I visited the different Ladli Centres this time, I saw a change from my previous visit.  There was greater activity and the children and employees appeared more content.  They like the job.  They feel useful and clever.  They experience proficiency!  And they earn a little money which is put into accounts in each child’s name, and will be initial capital for them when they are older.  The boys sew bags for the jewellery.  They are educated to be tailors and train at efficient serial production on their treadle machines.  Several of the boys are already qualified and have started their own activity with a sewing machine.  I am unbelievably happy at the sight of this.  I understand that even if sale of the jewellery earns money for Ladli, it is not the most important aspect.  The vital thing is to be a channel for selling the products because the actual work training is incredibly important.  The children feel competent, clever and they experience proficiency.  They receive social training in carrying out a task, something these children have never experienced at home.  They have never had a mother and father who have gone to work every day.  They have only experienced degradation.  They can now provide their own means of livelihood and they can add work experience to their list of other experiences in life.  I feel sincerely happy at the sight of this.

    This girl is packing jewellery in the little

    bags. This jewellery will now go to Norway

    and A&C will sell it in their stores. All the

    mony goes back to Ladli.

And I know that this is the most important thing we can do.  We cannot change the world.  We cannot remove everything that is bad.  But we can do something.  One small thing that can mean EVERYTHING to this person.

Birgit Løitegaard

Owner A&C