Children swap murder for maths
Colombia's government has set up safe houses with the aim of rehabilitating former rebel soldiers as young as 12
Martin Hodgson in Bogota
Monday December 17, 2001
The Guardian
Marisol, 16, appears to be an ordinary schoolgirl. She dislikes maths, her spelling is not always perfect, and she says that when she finishes school she would like to be a pop singer.
Six months ago, however, Marisol was a commander in Colombia's largest rebel army, leading a column of 100 guerrillas in a string of attacks against army bases and police patrols.
"I was a good fighter and a good commander, but I had no freedom. All I had was war," she said.
Marisol talks confidently about weaponry and tactics, but she now faces what may be her toughest battle so far: returning to civilian life after five years on the front lines of Colombia's bitter civil war.
An estimated 6,000 children fight with the rebels and rightwing paramilitaries, and as more children are sucked into the conflict, the Colombian government has opened a network of halfway houses to help fighters like Marisol who desert or are captured by the army.
Aged between 12 and 17, most of the young ex-combatants have experienced fighting, and all face enormous difficulties after leaving the war.
"When all you can expect is death, you have no vision of any future. We try to help the kids to think ahead, and realise that they can decide what will happen in their lives," said Julian Aguirre, who runs the rehabilitation programme for the Colombian Family Welfare Institute.
The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (Farc), is the largest recruiter of children. The oldest rebel faction, it had just 1,000 guerrillas 20 years ago, but now fields 17,000 fighters, owing in part to the widespread use of child soldiers.
"In some regions recruitment is indiscriminate. I've heard Farc commanders saying that they'll take anyone big enough to hold a rifle," said Mr Aguirre.
About one-quarter of child combatants are press-ganged, but the majority are volunteers. Some - like Marisol, whose father was a Farc commander - have family ties with the rebels; others join up to flee domestic violence or sexual abuse. But most go to war for want of any other options.
According to Rocio Mojica of Save the Children, 3m of the country's 14m children have no access to education. In much of rural Colombia, there has never been a consistent state presence or investment in education and the local economy.
"There are very few opportunities for work or education, and joining an armed group gives young people a sense of importance and belonging that they can't find elsewhere," she said.
Miguel scraped just three years of school, and at 15 he was working as a bus driver's assistant when rightwing paramilitaries offered him a job.
They paid him £300 a month - more than three times the minimum wage - and equipped him with a pistol, a radio and a mobile phone. At first, his duties were minimal: he carried messages and patrolled the hills around his home town in central Colombia. But two months after joining up, he was ordered to torture and kill a suspected guerrilla.
"The 'paras' said that if I didn't kill him, they'd shoot me because I knew too much," Miguel said. After the murder, the paramilitary commander forced him to drink the victim's blood.
"Once you've done that three or four times you don't respect anything. You just kill for the sake of killing." Miguel fled the group in July. He now lives at the same shelter as Marisol.
Plagued with nightmares, he initially found it hard to trust his former enemies. Now, his best friends are ex-guerrillas, but he still dreams nearly every night of the man he tortured to death.
"The ghosts inside are very strong. Most of the kids suffer from anxiety and depression," said Carmen Liliana Forero, a teacher at the centre.
The past can reach out in more deadly ways. Guerrillas and paramilitaries share the grim policy of murdering both deserters and former enemies, and the shelter's location is kept a closely guarded secret.
In a secluded country home, 20 children undergo psychological help and receive a basic education as well as various vocational skills.
"The idea is to help them become productive, so that when they leave the centre, they neither return to the war nor turn to crime," Mr Aguirre said.
The children usually remain at the home for an average of four to six months while they decide what to do next. Those who can, return home. Others are sent to foster parents.
"Many of these kids will never see their families again," said Mr Aguirre.
Mileidy, 18, is one of the lucky ones. It is her last day in the shelter before returning to the family she has not seen for five years. She joined the Farc because her parents couldn't afford school fees, but now she wants to become a social worker. She grins nervously at the thought of civilian life.
"It's going to be hard to start over with my family, but you can get used to anything. I don't know what will happen, but at least I know that I'm out of the war," she said.
