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Solace for the shunned Dreams and hopes
of a prosperous future shattered, they come back to Sri Lanka burdened
with a "shameful secret" they can reveal to none, not
even their closest kith and kin. "I cannot
go home like this. My husband will kill me. It will also be the
end of our family life," sighs heavily pregnant 24-year-old
Latha now in a haven run by the Salvation Army in Colombo. Being from
Colombo, it is difficult for her even to attend the clinic at the
De Soysa Maternity Home because once when she went there she saw
two women from her area and quickly rushed back to the home. Hers is also
not an isolated case of a housemaid "falling into trouble".
With Latha are three more mothers who have already given birth awaiting
good homes, through legal adoption, for their unwanted babies. "I was
raped by the 18-year-old son of my master when he came back from
campus, in the house where I worked. Otherwise everything was okay.
The Mama (mistress) and Baba (master) treated me well. I did all
the work. They gave me to eat," says pretty Latha who had gone
to Saudi Arabia as a maid in August 2002. She rejected the overtures
of the son but one day she was alone with him when the others went
to dinner. "My room door did not have a lock." That was the
night it happened after he assaulted her. She could not tell the
family her plight because they would not have believed her but fled
from the house, sans a salary, to the embassy and begged the officials
to send her back. She also tried to get rid of the foetus for how
could she face her husband, little girl of four, her in-laws and
society back home in Sri Lanka? She did not
know what she would do, the only certainty being that she could
not go home. Fortunately, there was help at the end of her plane
ride back to Sri Lanka, though she did not know it at that time.
When she landed at Katunayake she realized there was a kind word
and a helping hand here. A counter for
people like her set up by the Sri Lanka Bureau of Foreign Employment
directed her to Sahana Piyasa close by where a hot meal and a comfortable
bed awaited her. No strictures were made, no morality preached.
Only her plight discussed and what she wanted to do verified. "We not
only see to the needs of those coming back but also those going
abroad," says Tharanga Hettiarachchi, the Bureau’s Manager,
Airport Division and Sahana Piyasa welfare centre. "Sahana
Piyasa is for women because they are in a more vulnerable situation
than men. However, we do not ignore the men who need help but give
them assistance if they are stranded or sick." At Sahana Piyasa
the needs of destitute workers are looked into by the staff and
arrangements made on an individual basis to cater to each one. "They
come with different problems. Some are ill, others disabled and
still others insane. Some have had babies there while others are
pregnant. Some have not been paid their salaries and others do not
know how to get home. We take down the details of each and every
case and see to their needs. If those who are ill need treatment
we take them to the hospital, if they are stranded, we get a relative
to come and take them home," explains Sahana Piyasa Officer-in-Charge
Kusum Kalupahana taking us around the clean and well-kept buildings,
set on the seaside, a little away from the busy Katunayake-Negombo
Road. In the case
of those who are pregnant we try to persuade them to get a family
member down and get back home, but most refuse point blank, she
says. Just outside
her office, a housemaid from Balapitiya is gently ushered into a
Sahana Piyasa van along with her mother and little niece. As soon
as she sees us she kneels and begins praying, in tears about a camera.
Seetha Violet says her daughter was normal when she left for Dubai
in January, last year. She wrote regularly and even sent money to
repay a loan. Then suddenly they heard from the agency that she
was sick and being sent home. By the time they came to Katunayake
she had arrived and been brought to Sahana Piyasa. It was only when
they met her that Violet realized her daughter was "not quite
right here", she says tapping her head. What happens to pregnant housemaids when they seek solace at Sahana Piyasa? "They tell
us they do not want to go home until they have their babies. They
also threaten to commit suicide. Though most of them say they have
been raped there may be instances when they have willingly gone
with someone, but it is not our mandate to censure them. We take
them in and try to make them comfortable. We do not send them out
alone for there is the danger that they may do something to themselves
or even to their babies," says Mrs. Kalupahana who has a staff
of 25 to support her. As Sahana Piyasa
cannot keep them for a long time, arrangements have been made with
the Salvation Army to provide shelter to them until they have their
babies and decide what to do. "We pay the Salvation Army Rs.
1,500 a month to look after these mothers," she says. Now, Mala, 27, is at the centre, after being molested by the Baba of the house she was working for in Abu Dhabi. Back home her husband is in the police and she has a three-year-old son. Her second baby is due in July and she refuses to go home. Once the babies
are born, the mothers either decide to take them home and face the
consequences and stigma or give them up for adoption. While Latha
who has come back in January is due to deliver her baby in early
June, three other women have already had their babies and are being
cared for at the Salvation Army. Sriyani, 41,
has a chubby boy born on February 3 and is hoping to give him up
for adoption so she could go back to her home, her husband and four
children, the eldest of whom is 23 and the youngest 14. She too
was happy at her workplace since she went to Kuwait in November
2000. Trouble came in the form of a Sri Lankan who was working in
a shop there. "He tried to become friendly with me but I didn't
tolerate him. When the family went on holiday and I was alone he
broke into the house and raped me. I informed the police and he
was remanded," she says. Once she settles
all matters here and sees her family, she hopes to go back to earn
some money to save them from the poverty trap. For 28-year-old
Nirmala too, like Latha, the sexual harassment came in the form
of the master's son. She had been abroad earlier but not faced any
such problems. This time she was hoping to send money to her husband
and 10-year-old son to buy a vehicle. The man who
raped her, Nirmala says, was married and lived with his wife on
the third floor of the house. Though she complained to the family
about him, they ignored her. She locked her room door but he had
a key and raped her when the others had gone to a wedding. Her complaints
went unheeded and ultimately they got her embroiled in a theft case,
which resulted in her being jailed for five months. "By that
time it was too late to do anything, I was far into my pregnancy,"
she says. She came back on March 12, this year without compensation or wages and had her baby daughter on April 3. "I cannot go home until I give the baby away," she says. "Merrennath
be, Jeevath wennath be (Can't die neither can we live)," laments
Latha while the others echo her sentiments. "Me ape karume
(This is our fate)." Love amidst tribulations Far from Sevana
Piyasa, in a refugee settlement off the dusty Palavi-Kalpitiya Road,
a similar story has taken a happy turn. Little Fathima's
mother had gone to Saudi Arabia to provide a better life to her
family which had faced many a trial. They were Muslims chased away
from home and hearth by the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam in
1990 and languished in refugee camps. There were four young children
to look after. Her husband was unable to take up hard labour after
having his leg shot off while running away from the Tigers. He now wears
a false leg. That was why Siththi went in search of that proverbial
pot of gold. But more troubles
awaited her and she came back pregnant. Her husband took her in
without a murmur and hid her from prying eyes and malicious talk
until she had Fathima on August 1, 1993. Later they
moved to this refugee settlement where he treats Fathima like his
own daughter and grumbles that they do not have enough money to
provide proper care and schooling for her. As we talk
to them outside their humble home, he sees inquisitive neighbours
gathering around and ushers us to the single bedroom. There he shuts
the door and gets his wife to show us all the documents. "We
need help to look after Fathima," he says. The irony hits us as the family reveals that poverty has now compelled Siththi's eldest daughter to seek a job as a housemaid in the Middle East in the footsteps of her mother. 'I want to keep my baby' "Tell my
husband I've got his baby," pleads Niroshi, 36, carrying her
sleeping baby boy born on April 23, tenderly in her arms. Her situation
seems slightly different to the others we met at the Salvation Army.
For she says, while working as a housemaid she married an Egyptian
driver. "He promised to come to Sri Lanka and settle down with
me once the baby was born," she stresses, requesting us to
call him. Niroshi was
a widow with a 13-year-old daughter when she went to Saudi, once
again to better her prospects. Then she fell in love with the father
of her son and married him in Egypt while on holiday with the family
she was working for. "But I was in trouble with the authorities
in Saudi for marrying outside the country and they sent me back.
I don't have the marriage certificate because my husband has it." Her mother is urging her to give the baby away and go back to her village where her family is respected. "I can't and I won't. I want my baby. I am sure when my husband hears of this he will look after us," she adds. |
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Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers
Ltd. All rights reserved. |
