Addressing child labour through CARE protection program

Desperate to earn any income for his family, a boy wanders the narrow streets of a crowded neighborhood on the edge of Amman. He stops into each shop, trying to sell plastic bags to storeowners. It is the height of summer and the heat is sweltering. At the end of the day, after 12 hours of working, he returns to the small apartment his mother is renting. He has heat stroke, but worse – he thinks – he hasn’t sold one bag. 

Ahmed was only nine when his mother, UmMohammad, knew they must escape Syria. “We couldn’t sleep with all of the bombing. We were putting cotton balls in our ears so we wouldn’t hear it. We don’t like to remember those days. It felt like we were waiting for our death.” 

UmMohammad, 50, is the divorced mother of four, and with few means to support her family, she and her sons were trying to earn whatever income they could. Some days she prepared food for neighbors, while her sons looked for other small jobs. While Ahmed didn’t return to work, quitting after his first day, his brother Suleiman, then 12, found employment in a nearby shoe store. 

Suleiman, 15, with mother UmMohammad holding grandson, Faris, 2. Photo: Mary Kate MacIsaac/CARE​

“I worked from 8am until 8pm,” he says, remembering their early days in Jordan. 

“The shop owner made him stand all day and wouldn’t give him breaks,” his mother says. “I wasn’t comfortable with this. I was worried for him. I would check on him to make sure he was okay. I feared for his safety.” 

Suleiman’s long 12-hour shift earned the family 3JODs each day, (USD4.20 or EUR3.70). 

While he had helped his mother in Syria, selling her homemade ice cream, he did so only after returning from school. But in Jordan, their situation was much more difficult. They needed money for rent and food, and school expenses would be too costly – all of it only adding to the family’s mounting debts. 

A new study by CARE International in Jordan finds that 89 percent of Syrian refugees are living in debt, with 66 percent using negative coping mechanisms, and 13 percent resorting to more harmful methods such as child labour or early marriage for teenage daughters. The CARE study says that 6.8 percent of Syrian refugees reported their children are working either occasionally or every day, only a slight increase from the 2016 report. 

Most families with working children cite their reasons being financial constraints and needing their child to support the family. But whether working in construction, shops, or selling goods in the streets, working children are exposed to increased protection risks and exploitation. 

For Suleiman, he happily left the shoe store when he found a better job in a local coffee shop. There he could earn 4JODs/day for eight hours of work - more money for fewer hours. 

But UmMohammad continued to fear for her son. I worried that Syrian youth may be mistreated by shop owners. We had seen it happen in the public market and heard from other children that this was occurring.

Then, through CARE’s case management program, she learned about cash-for-education assistance that could provide financial aid for her family, and increased protection for her son – ensuring Suleiman returned to school. The mother was elated. 

CARE’s protection-focused cash-for-education program aims to eliminate child labour and early child marriage by targeting out-of-school children, those at risk of dropping out, and girls at risk of early or forced marriage. Through providing monthly cash assistance (USD100/month for 10 months per household), CARE is helping parents like UmMohammad address critical financial needs while ensuring her children’s rights to education are fulfilled. 

“I wanted to keep him in school,” UmMohammad says looking at Suleiman. “I was so happy when I learned he could enroll in CARE’s program. This is why I hope it will continue.” 

Her eldest son, Mohammad, 22, earns what he can through day labour, but sustainable jobs are more difficult to find, and he has a wife and two children to support. His wife was only 16 when they married. 

“The girl’s mother agreed,” UmMohammad says, shrugging. Then she adds how her own attitudes on early marriage have changed since the crisis began. 

“My daughter, Huda*, is 16. A relative asked to marry her and she refused,” she says with no hesitation. “Actually, I was surprised when she voiced her opinion. Her response changed my mind. She refused because she’s too young to marry. When we lived in Syria, I thought it was a good way to protect the girl, but more girls who marry early are also divorced, or the grandmother needs to care for the children. Now I feel girls who marry are too young for all of the responsibilities.” 

“There’s a change happening in society. From inside, I feel happy about it, but I was surprised,” the mother admits. “Still, I supported Huda’s decision. When a girl is mature, when she has the skills and is educated and knows proper parenting, then a girl can marry.” She points to her daughter-in-law, who married at 16, as a reason to rethink early marriage. “My daughter-in-law doesn’t know how to deal with her own children.” 

“I didn’t marry until I was 22,” UmMohammad adds. “My father didn’t believe in early marriage – and in those days it was the father who made the decisions.” 

Huda, UmMohammad’s only daughter, is taking informal classes now and hopes to re-enter school next year, while her mother has also taken advantage of workshops offered by CARE. 

“I attended parenting skills sessions – stress management for children. I became more careful with how I communicated with my sons and grandson,”she says. “Fleeing our home had a psychosocial impact on the boys. First they were very angry, and not communicating well. They couldn’t attend any psychosocial activities because we lived too far away, and transportation is expensive. Now they usually participate in the local sports club, playing soccer and swimming.” 

UmMohammad’s nephew, Omar, 13, remembers when he, like her sons, sought work. “I helped paint for two days – but then I quit,” he laughs. “I would prefer to be an engineer.” Suleiman agrees, and says that he also dreams of becoming a civil engineer to help build improved infrastructure not only in Syria but in Jordan, too. In the midst of protracted crisis, getting children back into school is the first step towards that. 

This year 677 children are participating in CARE’s cash-for-education program, supported by the European Commission, the German Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the US Bureau of Population, Refugees, and Migration. 


By Mary Kate MacIsaac, Regional Syria Response Communications Coordinator 

For more on our work in Jordan click here.