May 08, 2008

A ‘mother’ at an SOS Children’s Village describes the fulfilling relationship she has with the children under her care.

By Issam Ahmed

For Akhter Begum, now in her sixties, being a 'mother' at the SOS Children's Village in Lahore for over 30 years has, in many ways, been more rewarding than her relationship with her real family. She explains, "I've been a mother for innumerable children now. I have daughters in Canada and Saudi Arabia, and sons who are successful. I am a nani and a dadi to their children. They come to me on reunions."

She joined the organisation as a young woman in order to make ends meet just as SOS was opening its first village in Lahore, in 1977, and has remained there since, having made a conscious decision to keep her real family to a minimum. She chooses instead to devote herself to the role of a full-time 'mother', in line with the SOS philosophy.

Explains Almas Butt, current director of SOS Lahore, "The idea is to make the experience of growing up as normal as possible for orphans and lost children. So each child is assigned to 'family' with a full-time 'mother', and each family unit consists of eight to ten children."

Real siblings are kept in the same family, and girls normally stay with the village until marriage. Boys leave for senior school in their late teens. The village does not allow families to break up and does not permit children to go for adoption, except as infants. Butt says proudly, "Our ex-children include engineers, businessmen and some very successful people."

She claims that SOS Pakistan, part of the SOS Kinderdorf organisation that was founded by Austrian Hermann Gmeiner in 1949, is the only branch of SOS in the world that is currently entirely self-financed, with no aid from the Austrian headquarters. To make her point, she points to a house behind the office which was recently donated by an ex-child now settled in Hong Kong.

To ensure the children are fully integrated with society, they are schooled alongside non-SOS children at the SOS school which caters to around 100 children from the village and 1100 from outside. They are also taken on regular outings to the city and visited by children of other schools frequently.

Rabia, aged 24, who has been with the village since she was orphaned at three, says, "I don't think there is much discrimination in wider society anymore, and we aren't made to feel different. If anything, the bonds between siblings are stronger, and the discipline is made stronger because in the village a lot of emphasis is placed on seniority and younger siblings have to listen to the elders."

Rabia is currently doing a teaching internship and says she will eventually leave the village but will continue to contribute her time and money "because it would be my pleasure."

Optimism is written on the faces of Akir, aged 14 and Nauman, 15, who are brothers in the same 'family'. Zakir hopes to be a computer scientist, Nauman an airforce pilot, and their friend Zoya, aged 15 is studying hard to get admitted to pre-med. The regimented routines they describe — with set times for prayer, study, recreation and rest — sound more akin to a military camp than a typical family life, and help prepare them for the rigours of the world ahead. Routine and stability are emphasised to give the children a bedrock in their lives.

Some of the mothers stay and some go, but for women like Akhter Begum, SOS is more than a job, it's a way of life. She smiles and says, "I am old now and my brothers ask me to come and stay with them but I refuse. These are my children now and this is my life.”