The Love of the Kuya
When I was 12 years old circa 1998, my life revolved around those things that occupied the thoughts and interests of most 12-year-old girls growing up in the suburbs of Australia. I dreamed of attaining the perfect full-body tan. I loved my denim pedal pushers and converse sliders. And I rarely left the house without a few hundred butterfly hair clips sticking out of my head. And of course, I wanted to marry Zac Hanson from the hugely successful boy-band, also coincidentally named Hanson. My life was a blur of netball, paddle pops, cassette recordings, episodes of Heartbreak High and a necessary amount of teenage angst. Being 12 years old was kind of blissful, and at 29 years of age, I do wonder at times, why oh why, I cannot simply transport myself back to those carefree days!
But times have certainly changed. Not just for me of course, but for contemporary pre-teens everywhere. Life isn't as simple as it once was. It is complex; fraught with impossible expectations and endless contradictions.
The vastness of social media is frightening and laden with endless possibilities and consequences. Soaring numbers of children are now being prescribed antidepressants. And teenagers are frequently bombarded by unrealistic images of beauty, success and joy, which only seems to isolate and discourage them further.
Thus, being 12 years old in the modern age, is far from simple.
But imagine, if you will, another life. For not all 12 years’ old’s in the modern age share the same struggles across the globe. Indeed online bullying and social media do not perturb those pre-teens unable to access internet connections, mobile phones or tablets. Or for those 12 year old’s unable to secure vital medications and adequate health care for life threatening illnesses, anti-depressants, or even the diagnosis of mental health disorders, are simply irrelevant. You see, for many 12 year old’s today, the struggle is not internet connections or self-esteem...its just living.
In the dumpsite of Payatas, we see so many 12-year old’s struggling to simply survive.
Their lives do not ruminate on finding the perfect outfit or compiling the perfect music playlist or securing a spot in a sporting team.
Instead their minds are devoted to securing their next meal.
Where will it come from?
They contemplate how they will find much needed wound care for an ailing younger sibling.
How can they receive treatment?
They question how they will support their nanay (mother), who at 8 months pregnant, continues to work as a scavenger; toiling through mountains of rubbish every day to feed her children?
What happens when the baby is born? Who will care for it?
These sadly, are the musings of countless 12-year-old minds living in the depths of poverty.
Recently, at Safe Haven Community Center and Children’s Home, two young boys, aged 10 and 11 years, were admitted into our care after years of systematic neglect. Both of these beautiful boys come from families with several siblings and are thus, what the Philippines terms, ‘Kuya’s’; meaning big brothers! As an elder sibling, myself, I had never realised the depth and level of responsibility faced by elder siblings, that is, the ‘Kuya’s’ and the ‘Ate’s’ (big sisters), here in the Philippines.
For those kuya’s growing up within the lonesome and destitute slums and dump sites of Manila, life is devoted to the survival and care of the batang kapatid (the younger siblings). For these kuya’s, the batang kapatid and their needs are paramount. These little, yet mighty kuya’s forage and hustle for their siblings. For some, it’s working dangerous and arduous jobs for a small wage. For others, it’s cooking over open, wood fires so that their batang kapatid can eat, even just once, that day. Other kuya’s clean all day long, washing and sweeping their small concrete and corrugated iron dwellings, before bathing and dressing their small siblings in whatever clothes they can find or borrow.
These kuya’s have seen so very much with eyes so very young. Their realities…brutal, harsh and unjust. And yet their spirits are resoundingly resilient and strong.
Over the last few months, I have watched as these two kuya’s interact and co-exist at Safe Haven. In a small children’s home, we have intentionally admitted those children most in need of emergency, temporary care. Whether it is a neglected 2 year old girl or an abandoned 10 year old boy…we have purposely created a safe and secure family environment for the diverse needs of those MOST in need.
And so our kuya’s have once again found themselves surrounded by batang kapatid (younger siblings); some who are biological, others, who are not.
But that hasn’t seemed to change the outpouring of their love, their care or their thoughtfulness.
For deep within these kuya’s lies a natural instinct and desire to protect the batang kapatid; to love them, to provide for them and to simply be there.
They are tough…that I see. But they are also gentle and tender in the most compassionate and beautiful way. That I have also seen.
I have seen them gently lift one of our 3 year old’s onto a chair to adjust her wayward shoe. I see them allowing the younger children to line up before themselves; sacrificing their own yearning for food so that the younger children may be served first.
I have seen them clean up after the younger children, wiping up their spillages and correcting them when they misbehave.
I have seen the love of the kuya.
And it is a mighty love. An unwavering love. It is a sacrificial love.