'You'd better get born someplace else." That phrase from the Christy Moore song, Go, Move, Shift, originally written about the conditions endured by Travellers, could well apply to the children of asylum-seekers. The Irish Refugee Council has published a report based on research in Cork, Limerick and Ennis entitled Beyond the Pale; Asylum-Seeking Children and Social Exclusion in Ireland.
There has been some debate as to whether Irish-born children of asylum-seekers should retain their constitutional right to citizenship, which in turn entitles parents and family "leave to remain". Reading this document would make you wonder how desperate you would have to be to arrive pregnant in Ireland with a view to staying here.
The experiences of pregnant women and women after birth make for shocking reading. One woman describes having to walk for an hour to the maternity hospital for appointments. On her way to an ante-natal appointment, walking there with her three-year-old son, her waters broke, although she was not yet due. She had no option but to walk the rest of the way. She had no one to mind her child, until another asylum-seeker whom she had known for two weeks agreed to do it.
She had to stay a week in hospital, and due to lack of transport she had to walk an hour there and an hour back to post-natal check-ups. She is quoted as saying: "It really dawned on me for the first time; yes, you are out of your country, you are in the wrong place . . . a feeling that you don't belong and people don't care."
Since the advent of direct provision in April 2000, asylum-seekers are no longer entitled to social welfare. They receive accommodation, usually in hostels, three meals a day and an allowance of £15 per adult and £7.50 per child. They can be dispersed to any part of the country. Children under three may receive up to £20 allowance a week, but it is at the discretion of a social welfare officer. It is not an entitlement.
Under direct provision, entire families are crowded into one room, including in some cases adolescent boys and girls. They can be moved from room to room to make way for newcomers, so they do not even have security of tenure in one room.
Aside from the bedroom shared by the whole family, all other facilities are communal. This results in situations which are sometimes akin to bedlam. One mother reported trying to keep her son in their room because she was so worried about the effect that running wild with other children was having on him, but eventually she had to let him back to the communal area. Foul language and adult videos unsuitable for children were other difficulties.
Parents felt that, because their children saw them in situations where they perceived them as weak and vulnerable, their children lost respect for them.
Often malnourished during pregnancy, asylum-seeking women stressed by crowded living conditions after birth found their milk supply drying up and so had to resort to formula. Many of them would automatically breast-feed if they were still living in their own countries, which are supportive of breast-feeding in a way which Ireland is not. Forced to live in accommodation where there is no privacy and no control over their lives, they give up and bottle-feed. Once infant formula and nappies are bought there would scarcely be money left for a rattle, much less trips to doctors.
In many of these hostels there are no facilities for children, not even baby food to wean babies. The standard diet for children in one hostel was sausages, beans and chips, day after day. As a result babies are bottle-fed way beyond the age they should be.
The picture is not entirely negative, due to the efforts of volunteers who run mother and child groups, and try to help with accommodation and advice on rights. But it tells you how awful the system is when hostel-owners who buy nappies in the cash-and-carry and resell them at cost to mothers or provide milk for bottles are seen as exceptional.
The relative income poverty line is one tool used to measure poverty. One hundred per cent would constitute the minimum needed for a dignified life. Children under the 60 per cent relative income poverty line are considered to be consistently poor and in a situation of basic deprivation. Various family types among asylum-seekers, from a lone parent with one child to two parents with three children, are assessed. They range from below 8 per cent to below 16 per cent of the relative income poverty line: asylum-seeking children are among the poorest of the poor.
Admittedly, income poverty does not take into account the provision of a hostel room and meals. However, one room and meals which almost invariably have to be supplemented from the weekly allowance hardly constitute riches.
Although one person interviewed for the survey described moving from the hostel to private rented accommodation as like moving from hell to heaven, the main gain is independence. Poverty remains a problem, and unemployment hinders people's integration into the community. Receiving full social welfare is an improvement, but several Combat Poverty studies have shown that the costs of maintaining a child far exceed what is given in social welfare. If this is true of Irish children, think of the difficulties experienced by children who may not speak English and who may be the victim of racist bullying.
The Government has claimed that the report is unrepresentative, but since it introduced the punitive direct provision regime that is hardly surprising. If we had a humane system, which treated asylum-seekers and their children fairly, then perhaps we could institute a debate as to whether a constitutional right to citizenship for children born here is the best way to integrate people into our society. Since we do not have such a system, and instead we force adults into dependency, refuse them the right to work, and plunge their children into poverty, we should not embarrass ourselves further by continuing to discuss removing this one alleged privilege.
bobrien@irish-times.ie