A Working Childhood

The author, Zenebu Belete is 14 and attends high school in Addis Ababa. She lives with her parents, and brothers and sisters.

One in four children in Ethiopia work outside the family to supplement household income and another 3 in 4 children help out in the family business in some way. About 9 per cent of children who work are saving money to pay for school fees. 42 per cent of working children give all their earnings to their parents whilst 26 per cent give only a portion of their earnings. Children aged between 5 and 17 who work in income-generating activities work up to 40 hours per week. The National Survey of Child Labour in Ethiopia shows that 39 per cent of children surveyed had started working before they were five years old. (Child Labour Survey Report, 2001).

I was lying on my little bed, daydreaming. I could hear the telephone ringing in the dinning room. Could it be for me? I went through to the dining room and picked up the phone. I heard a faint voice at the other end of the line. “Hello! Hello!” I responded.

“Hello Betty, it's me, Genet” she said. I felt a bit worried, but I didn't know why. I hadn't heard from her for a long time. "What does my beloved, lonely friend have to tell me?" I wondered. “I am coming round to your house. Wait for me at home,” she said. With this, she put the phone down.

I first met Genet eight years ago. We were both watching a football game at the football field in my village. Genet is an innocent and benevolent girl. I see her friendship as a special gift God has given me. It is something I cannot explain, even to myself. Maybe, it is because I love her so much? I do not know. Our friendship developed over the years, and the more we got to know each other, the fonder we became of each other.

Genet lived far away from where I lived. While my parents have good jobs that earn a lot of money, Genet’s family had little to live on. They prayed to God to provide them with enough to eat. I always worried that despite Genet's real desire to go to school, her family's poverty stopped her. Poverty was a permanent presence in her family’s home. Her father, Debebe, was a carpenter, but instead of bringing home whatever he earned, he used to spend his earnings on alcohol. Her mother, Abeba sold small items in at local markets. Whatever she could earn as she stood under the scorching heat of the midday sun, she would use to keep the family alive.

Genet was also worried about the extreme poverty of her family. She had started going from house to house looking for part time work, mostly washing clothes, so she could earn some money for the family. Life became so miserable for her that she hated herself. She could not play and enjoy things like other children of her age in the village. Even if she had free time, she would not play because she had lost interest. Any opportunity to continue with her education was also blocked by poverty. Day after day she toiled, but could not overcome the poverty, hunger and misery that seemed to put down stronger roots in her family home every day. “But why are You so unkind to us?” she would ask God.

Suddenly, I heard a knock at my door. I snapped out of my daydreaming and got up to open the door. It was Genet, my beloved friend. After exchanging greetings, I could see from her expression that she had something serious to tell me. I was about to blurt out “What is the matter with you?” but I managed to bite my tongue and let her talk first.

“Betty”, she whispered. Her face was full of deep thoughts and misery. “Yes” I responded.

“There are a lot of things on my mind that I have never told you. I am always afraid of speaking my thoughts out loud. I have now convinced myself to confide in you,” she said, wiping away her tears with both hands. I didn’t know what to say. I simply watched the series of emotions that were passing over her face. She wouldn't look at me. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

"I would like to tell you about my childhood and the things that have happened to me. I want to tell you who I am”. She breathed deeply and continued, “I was born in a rural town up north. I had no opportunity to play games like other children of my own age. By the time I was ten years old, I heard a rumor that I was going to be married to a man I had never met. I started thinking about what it was going to be like getting married at that age. I was really shocked. That is the day my miserable life began. I was the only female child for my parents. My father told me that I had to get married quickly and bring a dowry to the family before hunger caught a hold in the house. Although I was so young for marriage, I agreed to my father’s proposal hoping that my marriage would bring a solution to my family's problems. But, my mother convinced my father that I had to wait for a year. So, when I was eleven I got married and the dowry brought a lot of money to my family. After a year, my parents told me that they had sold their piece of land and they were about to leave our village and move to the city. They even encouraged me to abandon my husband and accompany them. So, after a short time, we arrived in Addis Ababa. My parents bought a small house with the money they had and we started a new life in the city.

My father found daily work. With the meager money he earned, the family managed to send me to school. It was a good beginning, but it did not last long. Soon, my father started changing his behavior. He became addicted to alcohol and forgot his love for his children. Knowing that my father was exposed to all the bad habits you can find in the city, I began to lose hope. I wished I were dead. Our home was besieged by poverty. We were mixed up in so many complicated problems. My only hope was to get an education and be able to relieve the family of its problems. I was determined to overcome our poverty, but, day after day, things got worse and there was no money to pay for our schooling. My brothers left the home and went to live on the streets. I realised I would end up like them and I didn't know what else I could do.

So, I've come to tell you that as an alternative, I have now decided to go to one of the Arab countries and work as a maid. What else can I do if our life is forever getting worse, instead of improving. I have to try to do everything possible in order to save my family. I know it is only you who can help me get out this misery. Your parents know about my problems, and I want to borrow some money from them.”

She said she would try to pay back the money after a little hard work in whichever country she went to. Genet had been overburdened by more problems than I could imagine. I felt very sorry for her and I thought I should convince my parents to help her.

I confessed to her “Genet, I am very sorry. I have learned for the first time that you have had such a horrible experience. You are a poor girl. I also believe that you have to get out of this miserable life.” I told her that I was ready to do anything to help her. After chatting for a while, she left.

I longed for my parents coming home after work. Should I talk to my father or my mother about this? I was left feeling indecisive and restless. Finally, my parents came home from work and I ran out and met them at the gate. After exchanging warm hugs, we all went inside. My father, as usual, sat down and started to rewind a videocassette. Before starting the film, he gave me the usual sign to go to my bedroom.

I had the opportunity to talk to my mother privately. She was tidying up upstairs. I told her that I had something to tell her. She stopped and gave me her attention. I told her everything Genet had told me. After listening to me attentively, she advised me to tell my father the whole story and ask him to assist Genet as she could not do it on her own. But I didn't dare to do that, and I went straight to my bed instead. After sometime, my mother came to tell me the good news. She told me that she'd spoken to my father and they had agreed to cover all the expenses to send Genet to an Arab country. I spent the whole night swimming in our pool. It seemed the night was longer than a year.

Early in the morning, I went to Genet’s home. I found her in her little room and congratulated her. She hugged and kissed me. It surprised me that she was so moved and had become so happy in no time.

She was overly confident about her future. In reality, there could be either bad or good luck awaiting her. No one can ever tell. I wished her the best. If things turned out well for her, it would mean that I would have made a great contribution to her success.

In a short time, Genet said “goodbye” to Ethiopia. We also said farewell to her. We wished her good luck and a safe homecoming in the future. Everybody in the neighborhoods gave her their blessing. So many people went to Bole Airport to see her off. Genet and I hugged each other and cried together. After a week, I got a letter heralding her safe arrival at her destination. She told me that she had found a comfortable job as a childminder. However, three months later when I received her next letter, I couldn't believe what she wrote to tell me. She had burned her employer's clothes by accident, while she was ironing. As a result, the man got mad and beat her badly and one of her eyes had been permanently damaged. I felt so sorry for her. I wrote back and advised her to leave everything and come back home. Unfortunately, later on, I learned that all the letters arriving from Ethiopia were torn up and burned by her employers. What could I do? There was no way to help her.

Genet's ambition to overcome her poverty was only a dream. The misery she experienced was so unbearable that life lost all meaning for her. After six months, we heard the worst possible news: Genet had committed suicide by throwing herself off a high building. Just as we had cried when she left us, we cried on her return, when we received her body in a coffin. I should have advised Genet not to go and I will always feel responsible for my friend’s death.