Within just one generation, the lives of children throughout the
world have changed radically, with just one indication among many
being that so many children are now driven to school rather than
walking. The same change that occurred in the US has happened also
where I now live, in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Even though car owners are
very much the minority, children's freedom has been greatly
curtailed by those cars cars. Those whose parents do have cars are
driven everywhere; those whose parents do not, unless they are very
poor, are escorted by adults, and strictly prohibited from playing
outdoors. It sometimes seems the only children in the city who have
the opportunity for wholehearted pleasure, and who have confidence
and skill in negotiating the streets, are the slum children.
One could, of course, sit back quietly and watch these changes,
reflecting that surely it isn't as bad as it appears, or that
something else will come along to make things better, or that
children perhaps don't need to play outdoors, or meet and interact
with strangers, or get to know those of other social classes, or
learn how to get around on their own. It is easy to be defeatist and
say, who am I to fight such changes? And there are those who feel
the changes are inevitable, because the only response is to curtail
cars--and that is a "freedom" or enjoyment we could never part with.
It isn't that bad, people may argue; in some parts of the world
children have access to parks and playgrounds, and while structured
sports for children may not deliver all the benefits of street play,
it is the best we can do in the modern world--and surely nobody
wishes to give up the benefits of modernity.
We too, here in Dhaka, watched the changes and despaired. Later, I
found inspiration in reading David Engwicht's Street Reclaiming; we
bought sports equipment to give to the children on the street where
our office is--a "residential" neighborhood with homes, NGO offices,
a private university, a pharmaceutical company, a car repair center,
and a fair amount of traffic--and made signs to put in the streets
with such messages as "Love us, let us play". The kids took the
sporting equipment and played on the roof of their apartment
building; the signs seemed likely to turn rusty in our office.
Then one day, a few months later, a couple of my colleagues came
into my office and announced that on that very afternoon, they were
starting a cycle training program. A what? We have been working to
promote cycling, and fighting with transport officials on the issue
of cycle rickshaw bans in Dhaka; in the process we have collected a
good number of small, folding bikes. Out came the bikes. We bought a
few more for little kids, and taped paper with the message "Cycle
training" over our old signs, and put up a banner, and later made a
large sign showing Einstein on a bicycle--an amusing choice, I had
to think, in a Muslim country--all to make the car drivers pay
attention, slow down, and yield a lane or two to the kids.
The first day we arranged for some friends to come cycle; almost
nobody from our street showed up. Curious children and skeptical
adults watched from their balconies. Later, a neighbor told us that
people believed we couldn't be offering free cycle training without
an underlying motive--which they took to be that we were planning to
kidnap their children. How effective the media has proved in
frightening parents out of allowing their children freedom of
movement or opportunity to play! If only we could compare the
likelihood of children being harmed by being kept under lock and key
to the likelihood of being kidnapped.... But the woman who told us
this was brave, or had a better feeling towards humanity, and
brought her children, and reported to her neighbors, and the numbers
began to increase. We advertised the program (for free) in
newspapers and through handbills, and children and adolescents (and
even adults) from different parts of town began to come, and a
regular group of children showed up for the inestimable pleasure of
riding a bike with other children.
Other organizations have started similar initiatives, though on
small fields rather than on streets. Less than a year has passed,
and we hope eventually people will realize the good sense of
converting quiet streets into temporary children's playgrounds. In
the meantime, other stunning and unanticipated results have
occurred. Prior to the program, no children on the street knew each
other, having always being escorted by parents, usually by car; now
many friendships have developed.
One of our volunteers, Topon Shikder (pictured) says: "We have
created a platform which allows children from different apartment
buildings to get to know each other, breaking the isolation which
existed, in which everyone lived their separate lives. So now if
someone is in trouble--is sick, or there is no male around--they can
turn to each other for help. And of course the kids love it, they
keep asking me, 'give me a bike, give me a bike, when is it my
turn?' It's wonderful to see their excitement."
We have slum children helping to run the program and fix the
bicycles; like it or not, if you want to ride, you have to interact
with these kids, and interact they do. A couple of child servants,
who have no other opportunity for recreation, sneak away to join,
and revel in being treated the same by our staff as the rich
neighborhood kids. The children who repair the bikes have gained
confidence as well as new skills, marching about with great
authority; twice a week a few of them eat lunch with our office
staff. During school holidays, children from the street come to our
office to borrow bikes, usually in groups; it is now perfectly
normal to have children moving around as freely as if it were their
office.
Another of our volunteers, Muminul Islam says, "Street children--
those who pick rags or papers, or sell peanuts at the nearby lake,
to make a little money--often wander to our street to watch, and
stand with their mouths almost hanging open. So I send one of our
kids with a bike to ask the child if he wants to ride for a few
minutes. I can't express how happy they are! Sometimes afterwards
they get so excited, they come up to me and grab my hand, calling me
uncle or brother, and thank me profusely."
I wish I could say that the adults on our street have also thanked
us warmly for the initiative, and that drivers slow down, or avoid
entering our dead-end street altogether so as not to disrupt the
children. Most adults, including the parents whose kids participate,
are delighted; when they see drivers racing on the street, or
honking loudly at the kids, they complain about how uncivilized they
are. But other adults tell us we should take the program elsewhere,
and one woman--a child physician--complained that it's hard on
drivers because "we have to slow down"; others ask why we take so
much space (blocking one or two lanes of a three-lane street). Our
volunteers shake their heads in wonder--it really seems that people
love their cars more than their children, they say.
What we are giving to the children at one level seems so minor-?the
chance to ride a bike up and down a stretch of road, while passing
drivers blare their horns. On the other hand, we are giving them the
freedom to leave their homes unescorted, to gain a new skill, to
form friendships, to interact with different kinds of people...and
to have fun. Perhaps, if things go well, if we are able to continue
and expand, we will even succeed in communicating our key message:
that cars should not be allowed to destroy the joy in children's
lives. Perhaps people will see that children don't have to grow up
trapped in cars and behind TV, helpless and dependent, growing up in
fear of strangers and of the world around them. Perhaps they will
come to see the harm in the mentality that has developed, in which
any sacrifice of children's natural state seems preferable to
restrictions on cars. For it must be a sick society indeed that can,
and does, and continues to, love its cars more than its children.
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