Santi W.E. Soekanto, Journalist, Jakarta
Tiwi is a three-year-old girl, however she is so undernourished
that she weighs far less than most two-year-olds. She has not yet
learned to speak and has not yet walked, much less run around like
other toddlers. She also suffers from shortness of breath and when
she cries her face turns blue due to lack of oxygen. Her mother is
concerned about Tiwi's health but is also very confused.
"I have taken her to a shaman, I have taken her to a
midwife for some treatment, but she remains like this," the
mother of four said in front of her hut in a small fishing village
called Labuan, in Poso subdistrict, Central Sulawesi. Directly
across from the small cluster of huts is a school building that
was severely damaged in the Christian-Muslim conflict of the
recent past and now is unused.
The only teacher that used to work there was a Christian who
fled the Muslim enclave out of fear, leaving some 100 school-age
children behind who now have nothing better to do than play in the
ocean.
Tiwi's older brother suffers from acute pains whenever he
passes water. "I don't know what to do. His penis is
swollen," his mother said. "No, I have never taken any
of my children to the hospital. Do you think I should?"
A difficult question to answer because at the time of the
interview late last year, the only health facility available was
Poso Hospital in Poso town, 30 minutes away by car. That is if a
car was available, because since the violence erupted in December
1998 a long trail of destruction was created, and the district has
been almost deserted and not many public buses are seen around
Poso. Besides, anyone from Labuan wishing to enter Poso would have
to go through some enemy-controlled areas. Sniper attacks are not
uncommon.
Security was not the only problem, physician Surya Wahyuman
pointed out. He said there were only four doctors in Poso, all of
them general practitioners, because all of the specialists that
used to work there have gone. One of the four doctors was away on
a study leave in Yogyakarta, and another was at a conference in
Jakarta, leaving only two doctors to serve 20,000 residents and
refugees in Poso town.
One doctor for 10,000 people. Luckily there were 10 paramedics
to help treat thousands of refugees entitled to free medical
service, as long as they could produce official letters testifying
to their status as internally displaced people.
"We try to meet their needs for health care by providing
free and mobile medical services to the refugee barracks in Poso
town, Poso coastal areas, and Tojo sub-district," Surya said.
The small team treats up to 160 people during every trip to the
refugee camps.
"We find mostly cases of malaria -- what do you expect,
when so many people have lost their houses and sleep outdoors. We
also have plenty of cases of typhoid fever, respiratory tract
infections and diarrhea."
Those illnesses are at least treatable, Surya said. Death,
however, is final and thousands have died in this communal
conflict in Poso which appears only as a speck on the country's
map.
At least Tiwi was still alive despite her poor health.
Increasingly, however, we are getting used to a picture that
shouldn't be here in the first place: That of child victims of
armed conflicts in the country perpetrated by adults. Gone are the
days of chivalry when parties involved in war guaranteed the
safety of women and children.
Today, more and more children are becoming victims of armed
conflict. They are maimed, tortured, raped, killed, or conscripted
into becoming child soldiers.
During the United Nations Special Session on Children in May in
New York, Jose from East Timor, Eliza from Bosnia Herzegovina,
Wilmot from Liberia and Ismael from Sierra Leone stood before some
60 heads of state and delegates. The former child soldiers and
victims of war testified to the horror and violence they have had
to witness and endure.
Some 300,000 children in some 30 conflicts are fighting in
armies and rebel movements, the UN estimates. The Special Session
went on to issue pledges to protect children from HIV/AIDS, war,
poverty and exploitation and to educate all children.
There should not be any more boys like Syarif, a seven-year-old
who was captured by enemy forces during an attack on his village
at the height of the Christian-Muslim conflict in North Maluku. He
was kept for two years in the enemy village, and was returned only
after tough negotiations. His foster mother said she had to pay Rp
500,000 for the release of the boy.
Just because the media no longer reports unrest does not mean
that there are no more children suffering from war in North Maluku
and elsewhere.