Friday, March 07, 2008

Our Work in Orphanages



Marnie Gustavson:
A Friend to Afghan Women and Children
by Colin Hume

I sat behind her, a middle-aged American woman, in a conference room at the Ministry of Martyred and Disabled in Kabul, Afghanistan. I was amazed at the poise and confidence with which she addressed the Afghan officials and leaders of several important international organizations who were sitting before her. This remarkable meeting had been coordinated by Physiotherapy and Rehabilitation Support for Afghanistan (PARSA), for which Marnie Gustavson serves as executive director. The importance of the day’s topic, conditions in the government-run orphanages across the country, was not lost on any of the attending Afghans and internationals. Gustavson’s focus was on the living conditions in the national orphanages where more than 8,000 children live. She was trying to get the children the care they deserve. And she was putting her professional reputation on the line.

A social worker and Seattle native, Marnie Gustavson has been working in Afghanistan since 2003, following the fall of the Taliban, and living there with her husband, Dr. Norman Gustavson, since 2004. After starting an educational and well-being program in the large Alluhoddin orphanage in Kabul the previous fall, Gustavson and her Afghan staff members found conditions so upsetting that they began a movement to overhaul the inner-workings of government-run orphanages.

This day’s meeting was presided over by the deputy minister of Martyred and Disabled. In attendance were leaders of at least five other domestic and international organizations that work with orphans, including Save the Children and the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC). The meeting came about in response to the circulation of a report Gustavson had written which detailed what she and her PARSA staff members had found in their six months of working in Alluhoddin. The conditions described in the report were distressing: inadequate access to hygienic facilities and medical treatment, allegations of abuse by staff members, and a lack of night-time supervisors in girls’ dorms were just a few. Once circulated, the report and the conditions described in it could no longer be ignored by Afghan officials.

The report achieved exactly what Gustavson wanted: A hearing before the ministry. After officially welcoming the meeting attendees in English, her colleague Mahbouba Seraj presented the findings of the report in Dari. Seraj is the once-exiled granddaughter of King Habibullah, a progressive Afghan king who reigned at the turn of the century, and her presence lent weight to the findings. Finally, Gustavson and Seraj acknowledged that the report was unofficial, but that the findings warranted further investigation by the ministry. They asked that a committee comprising domestic and international representatives already working in the country’s orphanages be formed to preside over an official investigation into government-run homes for children across the country. And they wanted continued oversight by this same committee to ensure long-lasting systemic changes.

After listening to supporting statements by other representatives in attendance, the presiding minister acknowledged the report. He agreed to the recommendations and promised to form a committee. He then went on the defensive and began attacking the allegations that had been made, calling into question the integrity of Gustavson’s organization. He stated that as PARSA had not been given permission to write a report, the problems documented had no concrete basis.

After listening for 15 minutes, Gustavson interjected. She stood up and stated that the meeting had begun to turn in the wrong direction. She was unwilling to defend the work of her organization or the veracity of the report, as it would shift the meeting’s focus. She thanked the deputy minister for agreeing to the formation of a committee to undertake an official investigation into the conditions of the government-run orphanages. She stated that she expected the minister to abide by his word and with that, walked out of the meeting.

As I followed Gustavson out of the conference room, accompanied by her husband and Mahbouba Seraj, I looked back to see the stunned faces of the deputy minister and other Afghan officials. Though not diplomatic, Gustavson had certainly made her point. As we found out later, the report she had circulated almost got her expelled from Afghanistan for the stir it raised. I had never felt more proud of my mother. It was the spring of 2007 and I had just arrived in Kabul for a month-long visit with her and my stepfather.

Gustavson’s love of Afghanistan stems from the four years she spent there as a child from 1964 to 1968, during the “Golden Years” of relative calm in that historically turbulent country. Her father, looking for adventure, had packed up his wife, three daughters and cat, and accepted a teaching position there. “As a child, Afghanistan was wonderful, mostly because there was such a sense of community and relationship with Afghans and other internationals,” she recalls. “We made our own entertainment, and I enjoyed a wonderful childhood of adventure and learning in an amazing culture. I still enjoy living here because of the sense of close relationship with people that we don’t have in our own culture.” The experience shaped each member of the family in lasting ways. Exposure to the lives of the truly poor and vulnerable at such a young age clearly left an impression on the 9-year-old Gustavson, who has since spent much of her adult life as a social worker in Seattle.

Married with two children by age 25, Gustavson began her social work career in her early thirties in Seattle, becoming the executive director of the “youth at risk” program Steps Ahead at Rainier Beach High School. In 1991, she cofounded Washington Works, an organization that specialized in helping welfare mothers transition back into the workforce. In 1996 she cofounded Creative Economic Opportunities, which focused on helping the most “hard-to-serve” people, including addicts, the mentally ill, teenage mothers and the developmentally disabled integrate into their communities and find employment.

It was not until the Taliban regime fell that Gustavson fixed her attention on Afghanistan. The living conditions of women and their children are especially important to her. Since returning to Afghanistan she has worked for a number of organizations, including Refugee Women in Development and Equal Access Radio. At the helm of PARSA, she directs work on issues such as the development of economic capacities for widows, education for women, as well as physiotherapy and rehabilitation of war wounds.

In a report on the conditions of the Alluhoddin orphanage as of this fall, Gustavson had this to say: “….we made a difference in Alluhoddin ... you wouldn’t recognize the place ... kids are clean, have uniforms, TV in every room, kitchen brand-new ... some toilets work ... “
People always ask my mother why she has chosen such a difficult place to work. Her response is, “In spite of how hard it is in Afghanistan ... I believe in the Afghan people and their ability to make their country right ... and my work reflects that. Most people just go around the Afghan government. I challenge them because I want Afghans to run this country well ... and I believe they will do it ... and last week that man I walked out on invited us back to work in the orphanages ... we are now good working partners.”

For more information about PARSA, visit www.afghanistan-parsa.org.

Colin Francis Hume has volunteered in Russia, Ethiopia and Afghanistan and has been a wildlife researcher for various government agencies in the U.S. He is also a top-ranked snowboard instructor