Mr. Speaker, I enter into the Record the story of a young Honduran girl who resisted being robbed for $5, was clubbed over the head, dragged out by two men who cut a hole in her throat and left her in a ravine. [From the New York Times,…
Mr. Speaker, I enter into the Record the story of a young Honduran girl who resisted being robbed for $5, was clubbed over the head, dragged out by two men who cut a hole in her throat and left her in a ravine.
[From the New York Times, July 11, 2014]
The Children of the Drug Wars
(By Sonia Nazario)
Cristian Omar Reyes, an 11-year-old sixth grader in the
neighborhood of Nueva Suyapa, on the outskirts of
Tegucigalpa, tells me he has to get out of Honduras soon--
``no matter what.''
In March, his father was robbed and murdered by gangs while
working as a security guard protecting a pastry truck. His
mother used the life insurance payout to hire a smuggler to
take her to Florida. She promised to send for him quickly,
but she has not.
Three people he knows were murdered this year. Four others
were gunned down on a nearby corner in the span of two weeks
at the beginning of this year. A girl his age resisted being
robbed of $5. She was clubbed over the head and dragged off
by two men who cut a hole in her throat, stuffed her panties
in it, and left her body in a ravine across the street from
Cristian's house.
``I'm going this year,'' he tells me.
I last went to Nueva Suyapa in 2003, to write about another
boy, Luis Enrique Motino Pineda, who had grown up there and
left to find his mother in the United States. Children from
Central America have been making that journey, often without
their parents, for two decades. But lately something has
changed, and the predictable flow has turned into an exodus.
Three years ago, about 6,800 children were detained by United
States immigration authorities and placed in federal custody;
this year, as many as 90,000 children are expected to be
picked up. Around a quarter come from Honduras--more than
from anywhere else.
Children still leave Honduras to reunite with a parent, or
for better educational and economic opportunities. But, as I
learned when I returned to Nueva Suyapa last month, a vast
majority of child migrants are fleeing not poverty, but
violence. As a result, what the United States is seeing on
its borders now is not an immigration crisis. It is a refugee
crisis.
Gangs arrived in force in Honduras in the 1990s, as 18th
Street and Mara Salvatrucha members were deported in large
numbers from Los Angeles to Central America, joining
homegrown groups like Los Puchos. But the dominance in the
past few years of foreign drug cartels in Honduras,
especially ones from Mexico, has increased the reach and
viciousness of the violence. As the
United States and Colombia spent billions of dollars to
disrupt the movement of drugs up the Caribbean corridor,
traffickers rerouted inland through Honduras, and 79 percent
of cocaine-smuggling flights bound for the United States now
pass through there.
Narco groups and gangs are vying for control over this
turf, neighborhood by neighborhood, to gain more foot
soldiers for drug sales and distribution, expand their
customer base, and make money through extortion in a country
left with an especially weak, corrupt government following a
2009 coup.
Enrique's 33-year-old sister, Belky, who still lives in
Nueva Suyapa, says children began leaving en masse for the
United States three years ago. That was around the time that
the narcos started putting serious pressure on kids to work
for them. At Cristian's school, older students working with
the cartels push drugs on the younger ones--some as young as
6. If they agree, children are recruited to serve as
lookouts, make deliveries in backpacks, rob people and extort
businesses. They are given food, shoes and money in return.
Later, they might work as traffickers or hit men.
Teachers at Cristian's school described a 12-year-old who
demanded that the school release three students one day to
help him distribute crack cocaine; he brandished a pistol and
threatened to kill a teacher when she tried to question him.
At Nueva Suyapa's only public high school, narcos ``recruit
inside the school,'' says Yadira Sauceda, a counselor there.
Until he was killed a few weeks ago, a 23-year-old
``student'' controlled the school. Each day, he was checked
by security at the door, then had someone sneak his gun to
him over the school wall. Five students, mostly 12- and 13-
year-olds, tearfully told Ms. Sauceda that the man had
ordered them to use and distribute drugs or he would kill
their parents. By March, one month into the new school year,
67 of 450 students had left the school.
Teachers must pay a ``war tax'' to teach in certain
neighborhoods, and students must pay to attend.
Carlos Baquedano Sanchez, a slender 14-year-old with hair
sticking straight up, explained how hard it was to stay away
from the cartels. He lives in a shack made of corrugated tin
in a neighborhood in Nueva Suyapa called El Infiernito--
Little Hell--and usually doesn't have anything to eat one out
of every three days. He started working in a dump when he was
7, picking out iron or copper to recycle, for $1 or $2 a day.
But bigger boys often beat him to steal his haul, and he quit
a year ago when an older man nearly killed him for a coveted
car-engine piston. Now he sells scrap wood.
But all of this was nothing, he says, compared to the
relentless pressure to join narco gangs and the constant
danger they have brought to his life. When he was 9, he
barely escaped from two narcos who were trying to rape him,
while terrified neighbors looked on. When he was 10, he was
pressured to try marijuana and crack. ``You'll feel better.
Like you are in the clouds,'' a teenager working with a gang
told him. But he resisted.
He has known eight people who were murdered and seen three
killed right in front of him. He saw a man shot three years
ago and still remembers the plums the man was holding rolling
down the street, coated in blood. Recently he witnessed two
teenage hit men shooting a pair of brothers for refusing to
hand over the keys and title to their motorcycle. Carlos hit
the dirt and prayed. The killers calmly walked down the
street. Carlos shrugs. ``Now seeing someone dead is
nothing.''
He longs to be an engineer or mechanic, but he quit school
after sixth grade, too poor and too afraid to attend. ``A lot
of kids know what can happen in school. So they leave.''
He wants to go to the United States, even though he knows
how dangerous the journey can be; a man in his neighborhood
lost both legs after falling off the top of a Mexican freight
train, and a family friend drowned in the Rio Grande. ``I
want to avoid drugs and death. The government can't pull up
its pants and help people,'' he says angrily. ``My country
has lost its way.''
Girls face particular dangers--one reason around 40 percent
of children who arrived in the United States this year were
girls, compared with 27 percent in the past. Recently three
girls were raped and killed in Nueva Suyapa, one only 8 years
old. Two 15-year-olds were abducted and raped. The kidnappers
told them that if they didn't get in the car they would kill
their entire families. Some parents no longer let their girls
go to school for fear of their being kidnapped, says Luis
Lopez, an educator with Asociacion Compartir, a nonprofit in
Nueva Suyapa.
Milagro Noemi Martinez, a petite 19-year-old with clear
green eyes, has been told repeatedly by narcos that she would
be theirs--or end up dead. Last summer, she made her first
attempt to reach the United States. ``Here there is only
evil,'' she says. ``It's better to leave than have them kill
me here.'' She headed north with her 21-year-old sister, a
friend who had also been threatened, and $170 among them. But
she was stopped and deported from Mexico. Now back in Nueva
Suyapa, she stays locked inside her mother's house. ``I hope
God protects me. I am afraid to step outside.'' Last year,
she says, six minors, as young as 15, were killed in her
neighborhood. Some were hacked apart. She plans to try the
journey again soon. Asking for help from the police or the
government is not an option in what some consider a failed
state. The drugs that pass through Honduras each year are
worth more than the country's entire gross domestic product.
Narcos have bought off police officers, politicians and
judges. In recent years, four out of five homicides were
never investigated. No one is immune to the carnage. Several
Honduran mayors have been killed. The sons of both the former
head of the police department and the head of the national
university were murdered, the latter, an investigation
showed, by the police.
``You never call the cops. The cops themselves will
retaliate and kill you,'' says Henry Carias Aguilar, a pastor
in Nueva Suyapa. A majority of small businesses in Nueva
Suyapa have shuttered because of extortion demands, while
churches have doubled in number in the past decade, as people
pray for salvation from what they see as the plague predicted
in the Bible. Taxis and homes have signs on them asking God
for mercy.
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees recently
interviewed 404 children who had arrived in the United States
from Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala and Mexico; 58 percent
said their primary reason for leaving was violence. (A
similar survey in 2006, of Central American children coming
into Mexico, found that only 13 percent were fleeing
violence.) They aren't just going to the United States: Less
conflicted countries in Central America had a 712 percent
increase in asylum claims between 2008 and 2013.
``If a house is burning, people will jump out the window,''
says Michelle Brane, director of the migrant rights and
justice program at the Women's Refugee Commission.
To permanently stem this flow of children, we must address
the complex root causes of violence in Honduras, as well as
the demand for illegal drugs in the United States that is
fueling that violence.
In the meantime, however, we must recognize this as a
refugee crisis, as the United Nations just recommended. These
children are facing threats similar to the forceful
conscription of child soldiers by warlords in Sudan or during
the civil war in Bosnia. Being forced to sell drugs by narcos
is no different from being forced into military service.
Many Americans, myself included, believe in deporting
unlawful immigrants, but see a different imperative with
refugees.
The United States should immediately create emergency
refugee centers inside our borders, tent cities--operated by
the United Nations and other relief groups like the
International Rescue Committee--where immigrant children
could be held for 60 to 90 days instead of being released.
The government would post immigration judges at these centers
and adjudicate children's cases there.
To ensure this isn't a sham process, asylum officers and
judges must be trained in child-sensitive interviewing
techniques to help elicit information from fearful,
traumatized youngsters. All children must also be represented
by a volunteer or government-funded lawyer. Kids in Need of
Defense, a nonprofit that recruits pro bono lawyers to
represent immigrant children and whose board I serve on,
estimates that 40 percent to 60 percent of these children
potentially qualify to stay under current immigration laws--
and do, if they have a lawyer by their side. The vast
majority do not. The only way to ensure we are not hurtling
children back to circumstances that could cost them their
lives is by providing them with real due process.
Judges, who currently deny seven in 10 applications for
asylum by people who are in deportation proceedings, must
better understand the conditions these children are facing.
They should be more open to considering relief for those
fleeing gang recruitment or threats by criminal organizations
when they come from countries like Honduras that are clearly
unwilling or unable to protect them.
If many children don't meet strict asylum criteria but face
significant dangers if they return, the United States should
consider allowing them to stay using humanitarian parole
procedures we have employed in the past, for Cambodians and
Haitians. It may be possible to transfer children and
resettle them in other safe countries willing to share the
burden. We should also make it easier for children to apply
as refugees when they are still in Central America, as we
have done for people in Iraq, Cuba, countries in the former
Soviet Union, Vietnam and Haiti. Those who showed a well-
founded fear of persecution wouldn't have to make the
perilous journey north alone.
Of course, many migrant children come for economic reasons,
and not because they fear for their lives. In those cases,
they should quickly be deported if they have at least one
parent in their country of origin. By deporting them directly
from the refugee centers, the United States would discourage
future non-refugees by showing that immigrants cannot be
caught and released, and then avoid deportation by ignoring
court orders to attend immigration hearings.
Instead of advocating such a humane, practical approach,
the Obama administration wants to intercept and return
children en route. On Tuesday the president asked for $3.7
billion in emergency funding. Some money would be spent on
new detention facilities and more immigration judges, but the
main goal seems to be to strengthen border control and speed
up deportations. He also asked Congress to grant powers that
could eliminate legal protections for children from Central
America in order to expedite removals, a change that
Republicans in Congress have also advocated.
This would allow life-or-death decisions to be made within
hours by Homeland Security officials, even though studies
have shown that border patrol agents fail to adequately
screen Mexican children to see if they are being sexually
exploited by traffickers or fear persecution, as the agents
are supposed to do. Why would they start asking Central
American children key questions needed to prove refugee
status?
The United States expects other countries to take in
hundreds of thousands of refugees on humanitarian grounds.
Countries neighboring Syria have absorbed nearly 3 million
people. Jordan has accepted in two days what the United
States has received in an entire month during the height of
this immigration flow--more than 9,000 children in May. The
United States should also increase to pre-9/11 levels the
number of refugees we accept to 90,000 from the current
70,000 per year and, unlike in recent years, actually admit
that many.
By sending these children away, ``you are handing them a
death sentence,'' says Jose Arnulfo Ochoa Ochoa, an expert in
Honduras with World Vision International, a Christian
humanitarian aid group. This abrogates international
conventions we have signed and undermines our credibility as
a humane country. It would be a disgrace if this wealthy
nation turned its back on the 52,000 children who have
arrived since October, many of them legitimate refugees.
This is not how a great nation treats children.
Mr. Speaker, I have a parliamentary inquiry.
Mr. Speaker, again, if there is discretion that can be shared, that was directly from the article that I asked to be entered into the Record. On many occasions I have been on this floor and been part of many debates in the 5 years I have been honored to serve with the Congress and have used the exact same approach and have never been charged. Is there any discretion that the Speaker can give us direction on?
Mr. Speaker, I have a further parliamentary inquiry.
Mr. Speaker, with that being said to debate, even though the same practices are used by Members, rulings can change by the Chair on this particular issue?
Mr. Speaker, for clarification, that is exactly what I did, which is I read a statement from the article.
I am confused, Mr. Speaker. I am just maybe a junior Member from a small farm in New Mexico, but it seems that if I am reading from the article directly, that I don't appear to be violating any rules to be charged time.
Mr. Speaker, I have a further parliamentary inquiry.
Mr. Speaker, this was not an embellishment. This was a direct quote from the article. It appears to me that my understanding of an embellishment are my own words being added.
Mr. Speaker, last week, we were part of a conversation and debate around strengthening antihuman trafficking laws. We all came to this floor, and Democrats and Republicans found a way to talk to one another and talk to the American public about what we should do to protect these children that are in harm's way, not just fleeing street violence, but being brutally murdered and raped, Mr. Speaker.
This week, what my Republican colleagues are doing is coming out of a conference and weakening antihuman trafficking laws.
Mr. Speaker, at this point, all I can say is God help this Congress if it is now our policy to weaken human trafficking laws. It is a sad, sad day, Mr. Speaker, and I certainly hope that my colleagues take a chance to look at this and look into their hearts and pray on that and come to the floor and do the right thing.