A robust case management system that includes skilled social workers is a critical factor in order to ensure permanence in family for every child. In honor of National Social Work Month, we're highlighting four of the highly skilled social workers of our partner programs, whose photos are shown above. Deborah Kanneh and Abdulai Massaquoi are part of the hardworking Case Management team at Child Reintegration Centre (CRC), Prezton Gonkerwon Vaye serves families in Liberia with Red Meets Green, and Silaty "Keke" Mansaray supports families in Freetown with Child and Family Permanency Services (CFPS). These four exemplary social workers represent all of the skilled and experienced social works doing the often invisible work of strengthening vulnerable families.
Ensuring that vulnerable children find not only families, but permanence within those families, and empower vulnerable families to achieve their own independence and self-sufficiency doesn't happen in a vacuum. When organizations like the CRC, Red Meets Green and CFPS find the families of children living on the street or otherwise separated from care, reuniting them with family isn't the end of the story - it's just the beginning. And the hardest most difficult work is what comes next. The highly skilled social workers of agencies like these address each family's case holistically, identifying not just their needs, but their strengths as well, and building both the capacity of each family and their confidence in their ability to care for one another and to thrive. The relationship between the case manager and the family is a partnership designed to help the entire family grow stronger. This relational practice lets social works provide services working with the poor, rather than for the poor. Research shows that social work has one the highest burnout rates of any profession, probably due to the fact that these dedicate professionals are daily working with families in crisis under some of the most difficult, challenging and heartbreaking circumstances. In the global south, they're often not well-paid, and have large case loads to manage. They also travel long distances to reach families on their case loads that live in remote villages. An African proverb states that "it takes a village to raise a child." Social workers and case managers play a critical role as a part of that village, building the capacity that strengthens families and communities.
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Today, February 20, 2024, is World Day of Social Justice. Formerly called "Social Justice Equality Day," it's an internationally recognized day to promote social justice efforts that tackle issues such as poverty, exclusion, gender inequality, unemployment, human rights, childhood poverty and social protections.
Many people in the world suffer because of issues of social justice, but it's difficult to think of a group of people more powerless than children living without the love and protection of safe and caring families, and the networks of support that surround them, such as extended family, neighbors, communities, churches and access to social services. Orphaned children and those otherwise living outside of the care of family have no power, no voice, and no agency over their own lives. Even in institutional settings, children can suffer an appalling lack of access to their own rights. The UN Convention on the Rights of the Child clearly identifies some of these rights: the right to "...remain in or return to the care of his/her parents, or when appropriate, other close families members," the right to "...freedom of thought, conscience and religion," the right to "...express his/her own views freely in all matters affecting them, and the right to protection... from all forms of physical and mental violence, injury or abuse, neglect or negligent treatment, maltreatment or exploitation." Micah 7:8 teaches us that what God requires of us is "to act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." Note that it doesn't say that this is what God wants from us. No - it's not a suggestion, or even a recommendation - it's a requirement. In a world full of division and warfare and violence, it's difficult to figure out how to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly all at the same time, even just for ourselves. But if we're also engaged in the work of child protection and ensuring social justice for children, what does that justice look like, for them? If we're the champions of the least and the lost - how can we find justice for them? Mick Pease and Phillip Williams, co-authors of Children Belong in Families, have said "what children really need is someone just for them....they want to belong to someone, not to something." In 2019, after the CRC had completed its transition to family-based care and reintegrated all of the children back into their families, I visited one family in their two-room mud house, and asked the older daughter how things were different for her at home with her dad, than in the orphanage. She thought for several long minutes, and then she said, "when I wake up in the morning, he's here. We make breakfast and pray together. When I come home from school, he's here. He asks me about my day. He's here." His daily presence in her life, mattered more to her than anything else. I think for a child, justice looks like love, care, protection, identity; the right and ability to know who you are and to whom you belong. Thirty-five year old Isatu lives in Sembehun village, nine miles from Bo. Isatu married to a young gentleman from the same village. For 13 years, Isatu was unable to give birth to a child. In the African tradition, if a woman cannot deliver a baby for her husband after 4 years of marriage she is considered barren and a witch. The people of the village began to mock and shun her, and with his family's encouragement, her husband married another lady, making Isatu the second and lower wife.
According to African tradition, the number of children a couple has is a reflection of the strength and wealth of the father. Not giving birth to children is perceived as a weakness in the man, and African society looks down on men with no children. Almost as soon as Isatu's ex-husband remarried, his new wife became pregnant and gave birth to a baby boy. “My mate's baby boy brought joy to the entire family including myself," said Isatu. Male children are preferred, as they are seen as carrying forward the familie's succession. After the birth, however, Isatu became completely isolated and was not permitted to play or touch her mate's child because she was considered a witch. Isatu was later disallowed from cooking because they believed her curse would poison the family. “I continued to pray to my forefathers to deliver me a child." Mercy Hospital conducts outreach in Sembehun village, but Isatu never understood the benefits of this outreach for women and children. She thought initially the outreach was for physically sick people. “I was referred by a family friend to register with Mercy Hospital for my barrenness," she shared. Fortunately, she was enrolled during one of the outreach missions in the village, and was registered as a patient at Mercy Hospital and put on fertility pills, and other free medical supplies every month. In addition, she received free medical and nutrition supplies each month, and free training on maternal health and childbirth. In September 2022, she became pregnant and gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. Isatu and her son continue to receive nutritional and medical support from Mercy. “Mercy Hospital changed my life and my status completely - not only within my household but in my village too. I am no longer called a witch”. She is allowed to touch and play with other children in the family. Her son is currently one year and three months old, and doing well. “My child is now the jewelry of my husband,” according to Isatu. The child was named Thewor, a Mende word that means, "they said I will not give birth." |
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