Mwen Se Ayiti Tou - I Am Haiti Too
A Call for Change
500+ Haitian Leaders discuss the restavek system
On May 23rd, 2009 at 6:00AM, conference organizers from the Restavek Foundation and Foundation Maurice Sixto gathered. They had no idea what to expect. Attendance confirmations totalled just around 300, but with one last sweep of invitations sent to religious, educational, government, legal, law enforcement, health, social services and NGO leadership, they knew to expect the unexpected. By 8:00AM, over 500 Haitian leaders had gathered in prayer to begin the largest ever national Conference on the Restavek.
The Restavek Foundation hoped that beginning a formal dialog on this issue with Haitian leaders would be the first step to ending slavery in Haiti once and for all.
Jean-Robert Cadet addressed the crowd along with keynote speaker, Mrs. Maurice Sixto, wife of the late renowned Haitian radio personality, who first brought the restavek abuses to light in the 1970's. Tifane, Haitian music artist and activist, joined the conference to perform a song written specifically for Haiti's children - "Mwen Merite Lanmou - I Deserve to be Loved."
The conference - entitled "Mwen se Ayiti Tou: Yon Appel pou Chanjman" (I Am Haiti Too: A Call for Change) - took place on May 23, 2009 at the Karibe Hotel in Port-Au-Prince. In addition to the keynote addresses, global perspective was given by Jean-Luc Pittet from Terre des Hommes, followed by a series of breakout sessions discussing the impact of the restavek system on Haiti and current initiatives providing practical solutions today.
Breakout participants included Jean Prosper Elie from Limye Lavi, Pastor Shiba from the Church of God of Fontamara, Judge Norah Amilcar Jean-Francoise, Jean-Claude Cerin from Limye Lavi, Vodou Hungan Max Beauvoir, Sister Martha from Mouvman Vin Plis Moun, Psychologist Jean-Robert Chery, Father Joseph Miguel Jean-Baptiste, founder of Foyer Maurice Sixto, Renel Costume, commissioner of the Brigade for Minors in Haiti- section of hte National Police and DMarlene Mondesir from CAD.
Jean-Robert Cadet's Speech
My fellow countrymen, honored guests, friends, ladies and gentlemen. We’re united here today because of our common belief that the foundation of a healthy Haiti is its children. Each child in the foundation of a nation is a “stone of hope”, and when a childhood is destroyed, there remains a broken and decaying adult, weakening the structure of the nation. Such an adult doesn’t value other people’s lives because his own life was never valued. The consequences of stolen childhoods are lifelong misery, both for the victims and society.
Most Haitians say that until the problem of poverty is solved, the lives of children in domestic servitude will not improve, but the exploitation and abuse of children have nothing to do with poverty. Children continue to be de-humanized because society has chosen to look away rather than speak out, the same society that was founded on Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.
You have heard many different perspectives from our panelists on the problems facing our children, who are the core of Haiti’s future. I believe with all my heart that we, Haitians, have the power to make a change.
When I was a child in domestic servitude, I always heard adults say, “I need a ti-moun (a child) to help me in the house,” and days later, a girl or a boy would appear in their yards. Those children’s sole purpose was to care for others, to serve them, fetch their water, bathe their children and walk them to and from school. Adults classified these children as restaveks or Ti-moun ki rete kay moun (children who stay with adults) and referred to their own children as pitit kay (children of the house.) But restaveks were actually slaves, treated worst than child slaves during colonial time. They were abused physically and emotionally. The sexual exploitation of restavek girls was so common, that men referred to them as “La pou sa (here for that).”
In 1978, Maurice Sixto, held up a mirror to our society’s brutality of children in domestic slavery in a satire called Ti-Sentaniz. Sentaniz is a nine-year-old restavek girl who walks Chantoutou, the fourteen-year-old daughter of her mistress, to and from school. Sentaniz is spoken to in a Creole laced with insults. Chantoutou, on the other hand, is addressed in French with terms of endearment and treated like a princess.
One does not need to be a psychologist to understand what Maurice Sixto was telling Haitian society. Child slavery diminishes us, adults, and victimizes all children.
I was a Ti-Sentaniz, living in constant fear of adults, never knew the meaning of love or, given affection. The people I stayed with lived in a comfortable home in a wealthy neighborhood. My place to sleep was under the kitchen table. The bathroom, living room and dining room were off limits to me. They loaned me to their friends, kept me out of sight and forbade me to speak until spoken to. All these actions told me that I was worthless. It was only by God’s grace that I have been able to break through the pain of my past, to find the strength to stand before you to speak for these children.
As a child, I never dreamed of tomorrow even after I was smuggled into the U.S. at the age of fifteen. I was enrolled in school only after the adults learned that in America education was mandatory to all children under the age of eighteen. I remembered listening to a recording of the “I Have a Dream,” speech by Martin Luther King in the school cafeteria. When I heard him repeat, “I have a dream,” I asked myself “why doesn’t this man say, I had a dream last night and explain the dream.” I didn’t know that to dream meant to look to the future. Restaveks don’t dream of a better tomorrow for themselves.
As I entered adulthood, I found myself feeling out of place in social situations. It took me years of counseling to be able to stand before you today.
The wealthy no longer have restaveks in their homes. Children are now slaving for poor adults throughout this nation.
Last year, I visited two families in the shanty rown of Carefour Feuille. One had a nine year-old-restavek boy name Nicholas, the other a fifteen year-old-restavek girl names Denise. When I asked the woman with whom Denise stayed, how she disciplines Denise, she showed me an old cheese grater and an extension cord and said, “When Denise is being lazy, I whip her with this and make her kneel on that.”
Nicholas had whip marks, fresh and old, on his arms and legs and no light in his eyes. I asked the woman in the house why she beat him so much. “If I don’t beat him, he will not work and fetch water,” she said. Thinking perhaps the weight of poverty might have pushed the woman to abuse Nicholas, I offered her one dollar per day if she would not whip Nicholas for ten days. She agreed. Five days later I returned to the woman’s house to see if she had kept her promise.
“I didn’t beat him,” she said.
Nicholas told me he was not whipped since I had spoken to the woman. Later I pulled Nicholas aside and asked him in private, if the woman had punished him in other ways, Nicholas pulled up the sleeve of his T-shirt and showed me several teeth marks. “She bit me,” he said. When I confronted the woman, she said: “You didn’t pay me not to bite him.”
I wish I had both Denise and Nicholas with me now to show their scars.
“According” to UNICEF estimates, there are 300,000 children in domestic slavery in our country. It is the cruel treatment these innocent children receive from heartless adults that determines their status. It is this conspiracy of silence at every level of society that causes the restavek system to continue to exist.
I am appealing to you, to support this movement so that Haitians will no longer stand silent and turn the other way when children are being dehumanized, whipped, bit and brutalized as though the damage being done to them is not weakening the foundation of our nation and the fabric of our society.
I am especially asking religious leaders, who have the nation’s ear, to speak to their congregations about the evil of enslaving and abusing God’s children.
We, as an organization, have been working in Haiti for the past three years to build relationships with people of goodwill on behalf of children in domestic servitude. Many pastors are preaching against the sinful practices of using children to carry the loads of adults, but we need every church, every temple, every professional person, men and women of good conscience to stand firm against the abuse of children.
I know what we’re asking of pastors may not be popular with some members of their congregations, but there comes a time when one must take a stand against the injustices that are robbing Haiti’s children of their childhoods. Unless we value all Haiti’s children, Haiti’s chief legacy to the future will continue to be extreme poverty, illiteracy, and an endless rein of chaos.
Eight years ago, I presented the plight of restavek children at the United Nations, and after my speech, the Haitian ambassador gave a rebuttal. He said the restavek system was too engrained in Haiti’s social fabric, and the Haitian government lacked the resources to eliminate child slavery. We cannot wait on the government to act on this issue because it is not their problem alone. It is a problem for us all, a problem that demands our immediate attention, a problem that must be solved to show the world we are worthy of our sovereignty.
I have met many poor Haitians who are helping children and treating them like Pitit Kay (children of the house,) rather than timoun ki rete kay moun (children who stay in the house.) To those people I say, thank you. I say, you have vision.
When we use poverty as an excuse to legitimize the ill-treatment of our children, we condone child slavery. When we chose to remain silent about the enslavement of children, we empower the cold hearted and evil minded people in our midst.
To stop the cruelty, we must talk about these children at home with families and friends. Community leaders can form small groups to mentor and support a few children. We can intervene on behalf of a child being abused. Teachers can speak to their students about the abuse of children in domestic servitude. There’s no limit to what we, Haitians, can do to make the ill-treatment of children taboo. Do we really need foreigners to tell us that unless we value all our children, our national foundation will continue to decay?
Haiti’s unique history demands that we stop the enslavement of its children. If we don’t, then liberty, equality and fraternity should no longer be our nation’s creed. If we continue to tolerate child slavery, we diminish ourselves, Toussaint Louverture died in vain and the Haitian revolution was nothing more than useless violence.
It is easy to name a Boulevard after Martin Luther King and an Airport after Toussaint Louverture, but to truly honor the memory of these men who symbolize freedom, we must eradicate child slavery.
When I heard the “I Have a Dream” speech playing in my school cafeteria 38 years ago, I didn’t know Martin Luther King was looking at an historical and ongoing nightmare and dreaming in the daylight. I didn’t know he was appealing for justice and equality for African Americans. I didn’t understand then that to dream the way King was dreaming meant to actively look to the future, a better future for his country, for all people, the human race.
Today, I am taking this opportunity to dream for our children who are living an ongoing historical nightmare.
Like King’s dream, it is a hopeful dream, but one that reminds me of all those hundreds of thousands of Haitian children who are living each day without hope. Little boys and little girls in modern slavery who don’t have time to dream because they’re too busy worrying about their safety, too damaged to think of tomorrow and too small to defend themselves against their adult predators.
I dream that one day Haiti will rise from the scourge of child slavery into a sunlit dawn, where all children have a chance to reach for the golden ring of happiness and smile at life, as I have.
I dream that one day Haiti will build infrastructure and make education a mandated gift to all children. I dream that one day soon, Haiti’s children will no longer be stripped of their self-confidence, their self-esteem and their right to self-expression, and that they will no longer be robbed of their childhood and selfhood.
I dream that because all endangered children are Haiti too, that they will someday receive their birth rights of liberty, equality and fraternity. They, too, are children of God Almighty and must become the stones in Haiti’s cathedral of hope. Thank you.