DRUGS-BRAZIL: Children Used as Cheap Labour for the Drug Trade

By Mario Osava Reprint | | Print |

Mario Osava

RIO DE JANEIRO, May 8 2002 (IPS) - The drug trade employs around 12,000 children and adolescents in this Brazilian city, drawn in by the money and the status afforded by their association with powerful gangs. But few of them make it to the age of 21.

Samuel Muniz de Araújo wants to change that. The musician, songwriter, ex-convict and former thief is the soul of “Soldiers Never Again”, a project that emerged last year in Vila Alianza, a “favela” or shantytown on the west side of Rio de Janeiro.

The project, run by the non-governmental Brazilian Institute of Innovations in Social Health (IBISS), is aimed at keeping youngsters out of the world of crime and rescuing those already involved.

The “soldiers” in this case are those who provide armed security for the drug gangs, and fight with the police and rival groups.

A study by IBISS found 5,369 “soldiers” under 18 in Rio de Janeiro, who work at 337 drug dealing locations known as “bocas de fumo”.

But there are another 6,500 unarmed minors who carry small amounts of cocaine or act as look-outs or messengers for the Rio de Janeiro narcotrafficking groups, Nanko Van Buuren, executive director of IBISS, told IPS.

Muniz de Araújo, better known as Samuca in the favela where he has always lived, uses his own life experience and his musical talent as weapons in his fight to convince youngsters to turn their backs on a life of crime.

He told IPS that after his mother died, he abandoned his job as a fisherman and turned to armed robbery at the age of 16, due to conflict with his family.

He soon had enough money to buy a house and cars, and to take “long vacations.”

But he lost everything at the age of 22, including his one-year- old son and his wife, who was pregnant with their daughter. This time he did not get off the hook as he did in two earlier arrests, and he was sentenced to seven years in prison and five years probation, which he has almost completed.

While he “suffered away from his family,” he did a lot of thinking, and realized that he had to avoid falling into the errors of the past. He returned to music, which he loved since he began learning percussion at age 11, and he began to compose songs that talk about his troubles in life, his feelings, and social issues.

Samuca, who describes himself as a “social educator,” was hired by IBISS, and coordinates the “Soldiers Never Again” project which attempts to persuade youngsters that despite the glitter, the easy money, and the new respect from the community, “it isn’t worth getting involved in drug trafficking.”

Around 100 poor children between the ages of eight and 16 are currently involved in the painting, music and football workshops offered by the programme.

But Samuca’s work goes beyond the project. He talks to the children’s families, tells youngsters about his own experiences, and sings his songs with a message in concerts and shows, while supporting other community activities, like theatre and dance programmes that mainly target young girls.

Since he never left Vila Alianza, Samuca is respected and listened to by the community.

One of his songs, which has a reggae rhythm and emerged from the pain he felt when a friend was murdered, criticises the prejudice of those who say that the favelas only “produce thieves, and everything bad, including what’s inside of me.”

Comparing crime to a virus, Samuca likens himself to an “antibody.”

“I am music, I am art, and it doesn’t matter who sits back and does nothing, I’m doing my part,” sings the ex-convict turned youth model.

Although Samuca was a mugger, bank-robber and car thief in his past life, he also coexisted and cooperated with the drug dealers, who do not try to stand in the way of his work today. One of the achievements he talks about with the greatest pride is having rescued several “soldiers” from a life of crime.

Samuca also lamented the lack of resources and opportunities that “frustrates the potential of poor communities” and makes dealing drugs an attractive proposition for young people, providing them with nearly 1,000 dollars a month – earnings that would be unthinkable for them in legal occupations.

But Van Buuren pointed out that those earnings are “an illusion,” because “they are also spent very quickly.”

The executive-director of IBISS added that the organisation’s study found that other values, like establishing an image and an identity or gaining the respect of the community, were as or more important to local youngsters than the money earned in the drug trade.

In fact, Van Buuren pointed out that it is often the families themselves who present their sons to be recruited by the drug gangs, not only for financial reasons but also because they believe their safety will be guaranteed if they have a relative in the armed gang that holds the power in the favela.

The increasingly early age at which youngsters are drawn into the world of crime in this country of 162 million is alarming. An International Labour Organisation study found that boys begin to carry firearms as early as eight or nine years of age in the favelas.

Mortality among the drug trade’s “soldiers” is high, and most do not reach the age of 21.

The drug barons say they employ teenagers not because they can only be tried as minors, but because they are more dedicated, loyal and obedient.

One case that made a particular impression on Van Buuren was that of an 11-year-old “soldier” who carries an AR-15 assault rifle. Since the boy did not want to turn the gun in at the end of his shift, he and the drug gang that employs him agreed that his wages would be withheld until he had paid off the cost of the weapon, 8,000 reais (3,400 dollars) – a small fortune in Brazil’s favelas.