Protecting the Rights of Children
Small Children in Prison

Small Children In Prison

(after watching  a documentary film

on a prison jail in the Philippines)

 

“I only steal from the rich

Not from the poor,

I steal because I am hungry”,

said the nine year old boy

as he was interviewed in jail.

 

Imprisoned for crimes

like stealing food to appease

hunger in the tummy,

Etsoy and others are caged like animals

sharing a pot of rice among

11 or 15 in-mates three times a day.

 

Mixed with adult criminals

charged with heinous crimes,

here they are in jail without pencil,

books, crayons and oil lamp,

Here they dread going to sleep,

scared  of  being raped.

 

And they look at the high fences

of concrete walls,

invincible by their bare hands

Here are fences that blind their eyes

from  seeing the meeting point

between earth and sky.

 

Here are walls that deny them

to gaze at the sea, the boats,

the jeepneys, the ships and passers-by,

the birds perching on trees

and the rice fields at  harvest time.

Yes, Etsoy and many more

Etsoys are  in this jail

imprisoned, imprisoned

behind these high impenetrable walls.

 

Yes, the small children like Etsoy

behind these concrete walls.

are only called by numbers

or nicknames for who dare

to know their precious names?

 

Behind these high concrete walls

they are forgotten

denied of their childhood and life. 

And this prison

is their own

university of life. 

 

To Susan in Brøndby Strand
To Susan in Brøndby Strand

A child of ten summers
an adolescent with
freedom to move around
you have Brøndby Strand
as your home-
the lucky recipient
of your beauty,
innocense and smiles.

And one Friday night
you disappeared
like a bubble in thin air.
For seven days
we have sought for you
have waited and followed
the news of your safe return.
For seven days you`ve become
the object of our worries,
fears, theories and silent prayers.

Our hearts scream in protest
when conceiving a glimpse
of a frightening ordeal
you must have gone through
as a young child
with our helplessness
to deliver you
saved only by the hope
that goodness should
triumph over evil.

But on Friday, the seventh night
after you disappeared,
you are found dead
in a locked basement n Tranumparken,
wrapped in paper boxes
lifeless-- your body, rotting, desecrated,
reduced into a mere garbage.

Susan, we cry for you
we cry with your family
and loved ones.

Brøndby Strand, your home,
has ceased to be your home
and has ceased to be our home
as long as the offender runs free.
And as long as the offender runs free,
Brøndby Strand will ever be blanketed
by darkness, horror and uncertainty.

Forgive us for our inability to help you
Forgive us for our slowness to action
Forgive us for having ceased
to live as a community but
as detached individuals
imprisoned by concrete walls.

Thank you for your life
that forever reminds us
of the fragility and beauty of child`s life.
And let our aborted love for you
shine in our hearts and minds
to wage a battle
against abuses
done to little children like you.

Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
(written with tears after having known that the dead corpse of Susan was found. Susan was our neighbor in Brøndby Strand)

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20.09 | 13:16

I think I should also spend time writing poems in Danish. For quite a period of time, I have only concentrated on writing poems in English.

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08.03 | 09:55

Kære Elizabeth - du rørte mig med din tekst om at overleve gennem kunsten. Jeg kender det selv som en delvis fremmed med udenlandsk opvækst. Vi ses i Simonpete

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07.01 | 14:51

Fantastisk smuk hjemmeside.

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14.02 | 23:41

Super flort hjemmeside
jeg er hel vil ned dine hjemmeside :)

jeg har også selv en men det kun med tegninger :)
kig forbi og huske og skriv i GB lige som jeg gør nu :)

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