Autistic children need continued support

A crowd of boys and girls with inflatable rubber rings around their waists splashed around in an outdoor pool, closely watched by three women at the Rami Institute for autistic and slow learners in the Mansour district of the western part of the Iraqi capital, Baghdad. Rami Saba, 10, after whom the semi-private centre is named, took a few steps back, then did a running jump into the pool, splashing everyone nearby. He emerged, laughing, and introduced himself with a hearty handshake as water dripped off of him. Saba and the other autistic children at the centre play together. Almost all of them had smiles on their faces and a couple hummed to themselves. None of them had any idea of the political and financial dealings swirling around them. Some 40 children go to school at the centre in a quiet neighbourhood; several of them also live there. The centre appears to be the only one of its kind in the country, although there may be at least 3,000 autistic children in Iraq, Sabah Sadik, national adviser to the Iraqi Ministry of Health, told IRIN, adding that he did not know how many people were affected by autism as much of the country's health records had been destroyed. Some parents are able to pay the US $200 per month it costs for their children to go to the school, but most cannot. Aid agencies supply most of the food there. The British-based Muslim Hands NGO has been paying workers' salaries, said Nawfal al-Rawi, Iraq director of the group. Enfants du Monde, a French-based children's aid agency, recently furnished a special speech therapy room with colourful puppets and other tools of the trade. Saba's father provides some of the funding but can't be expected to be able to pick up the tab forever, said Nebras Sadoun, director of the centre. "Workers at the remaining small number of international aid agencies in Baghdad are said to be leaving Iraq," Sadoun told IRIN, a prospect that made her nervous. However, Al-Rawi said Muslim Hands had no plans to leave. At least two of the remaining small number of NGOs in Iraq have said they will close their doors for as much as two weeks before and two weeks after the scheduled handover of sovereignty to Iraqi officials on 30 June. US-led Coalition troops are expected to stay in Iraq after that date, but only at the request of the Iraqis and it is not known yet for how long. Since an interim government is expected to work after the handover, officials should take on more responsibility in looking after social agencies and centres such as hers, Sadoun stressed. "This is our worry. If the NGOs leave, we will have a very bad situation," she said. "We need some help from the government to take care of these children. They should support us." Former President Saddam Hussein was notoriously tight-fisted when funding such centres, but workers used to receive their money from the Ministry of Labour and Social Affairs or the Ministry of Health, said Sadek. "Now we're discussing how we can support them," he said. "Our budget is a very limited resource, but we support their ideology." Other centres around Iraq face similar worries. Several orphanages around Baghdad receive food under a food ration card system now handled by the Ministry of Trade. But most are also dependent on outside help. "We're helping them because the Ministry of Labour and Social Affairs says it doesn't have the money to pay them," al-Rawi said about the Rami centre. "We also bring them food and clothes. If we can do something for them, we will do it." Even basic infrastructure problems plague the centre, according to Sadoun, who ran around switching off air conditioners during the 100-plus degrees Fahrenheit day before a colleague switched on a generator outside. "Under the former regime, at least our water worked, and we had electricity most of the time," she said. "Now, the price of cooking gas is sky-rocketing and we have a lot of other troubles." Inside, children with more severe cases of autism were stringing coloured beads onto wooden rods. Haneen, 7, was able to shout out the colour of each bead as she picked it up from a bowl of beads. Mohammed, 8, sang softly to himself and does not talk to visitors. The centre can only teach the children until they reach the age of 12, the director of the centre said. After that, their families have to find another way to teach them and take care of them. "Their mental capabilities are so weak," Sadoun said, shaking her head. "Our society doesn't know anything about disabled and handicapped children. We need more education to teach them," she stressed.