SOS Children's Village mother with child Itahari Nepal…

A tree with sunlight  shining through at Children's Village Baku, Azerbaijan

In the small dusty yard of a shabby looking dwelling, Firuza is quickly spreading freshly washed laundry. It's almost five in the afternoon and Firuza will soon have to rush to pick up blankets from a nearby neighbour. Her working day will last until midnight.

This is the story of a brave mother.

Firuza is one of the beneficiaries of the family strengthening programme of SOS Children's Villages Azerbaijan. She and her four children live in a poor suburb of the capital, Baku. A story provided by Katerina Ilievska, co-worker with SOS Children's Villages Macedonia:

After carefully and slowly making our way up the narrow steep dirt pathway, Firuza welcomes us in her home, which is anything but a house. The two-room dwelling used to be a place where construction workers kept their tools while building the massive living blocks in the immediate surrounding. For the past two years, Firuza and her four children have been calling this place their home.

She takes us through a small dark hall into an even darker room. Light comes in only from a window high up in the ceiling. We're surprise visitors, yet the place is clean and arranged to the best of the circumstances. Firuza immediately instructs her daughter to put the kettle on and sits down to tell us her life story.

Life shattered

"I had a happy life... once," she begins. "My husband worked and I was a taking care of the children and the household. We didn't have much, but we were happy. Then the war came and we had to flee. In Baku, we got a small apartment in the suburbs. It wasn't easy, but I was happy that we got out alive and we were together."

The war between Armenia and Azerbaijan of the mid-nineties took its toll on many lives. According to the State Committee on Refugees and Internally Displaced Person there are 45,950 refugee families or about 186,000 refugees in Baku alone. The poor living conditions, lack of jobs and income, push people to desperation and note a growing trend of breaking up families. Firuza's family is one of them.

"One day, two years ago, my husband came home to tell me that he fell in love with another woman. He told me he had no room in his life for me anymore, and no place in the apartment. He told me that he wants me out. Then he said that I should take the children with me," Firuza's voice is solemn.

She couldn't move out of the apartment, because there was nothing to move. She simply took her and her children's documents and went out of the door. Without money they couldn't go far, so they found shelter in the shack only fifty metres from her old apartment block.

Mother above all

As she speaks, a little girl happily enters the room. Twirling the ends of her pink dress she rushes to Firuza's open arms. Before I have the chance to ask, she says: "This is the daughter of my husband and his new wife." The girl shyly smiles and turns to Firuza to give her a kiss. "Go outside and play. Zarifa is in the yard," says Firuza. "We are still married. He never filed for divorce. His two children with this woman come here every day. They practically grow up here. I accept them as my own, they are my children's sisters, but I will never accept him or his new wife," her eyes glitter.

Last year Firuza's two younger children had to stop their schooling because she had no money to buy school stationary or clothes. Twelve-year old Zarifa was in the fourth grade then, while her brother, 15-year-old Reshad was in the eighth. Their father wouldn't hear of helping them.

Zarifa comes in with the tea. Her 18-year-old brother Hamid follows her. He has to start the obligatory military service in fall. "It's my obligation as Azeri man and I will do it, but I still don't like the army," he admits. Firuza's oldest son is in the army at present, serving the last month of his term. He is stationed at the border with Armenia in Nakhchivan, one of the most dangerous regions where there is still occasional fighting. Hamid will be stationed there as well. The twinkling in the eyes of this young man tells of his refusal to accept the insanity of war.

Struggling with daily life

"But, I managed to find new strength in my misfortune," smiles Firuza. "I regained my faith in people. I never could even dream that people can be so generous and helpful." When she first moved to the shack, she found two worn-out beds on the dump yard which they dragged inside. A short time later, some distant relatives gave her a couch and an old dining table. An artist from the neighbourhood gave her a stove and a wall carpet, and neighbours started bringing clothes and toys for the children.

Firuza didn't sit and whine over her destiny, but looked for work. She offered her services as cleaner and washer to the neighbours. For a small fee, she washes people's blankets and carpets and she cleans homes. This is enough only to cover the electricity and gas bills which, as shabby as her dwelling is, come in regularly.

SOS Children's Villages for her family

Then, starting February 2007, SOS Children's Villages came into her life. Turan, the social worker of the programme, meets with Firuza at least once per week. The family is given regular monthly food supplies and hygienic material, and in addition they get individual counselling and trainings.

"Like with other families, we signed a contract with Firuza," explains Turan. "We specify the obligations of both parties, we make family development plans and together we strive to achieve the set goals." The first is clear and somewhat simple - Zarifa and Reshad go back to school in the coming school year. "As refugees, the children receive free books from the state. We will provide the stationary and clothes. Also, we ensured that Firuza gets legal assistance in getting the necessary identification papers for her daughter."

Being born amidst the war madness, Firuza's youngest child doesn't have all the needed documents. "One of our partners in the programme is AYLU, Azerbaijan Young Lawyers Union," explains Turan. "They provide their services pro bono to families like Firuza's." Another partner, UMCOR [United Methodist Committee on Relief] provides basic medicines, which the families cannot get free of charge.

Turan explains that there are many such cases all over Baku. "Most of our beneficiaries are single mothers with no income. Our help often starts with packages of food, cleaning products and medicines. Basic needs come first. Soon after, we provide them with counselling and trainings to increase their parental capacities. We strengthen communication skills, teach them to listen and do everything in our power to make sure the children's rights are fulfilled."

Hope for the future

The little girl in the pink dress comes storming back in straight to Firuza's lap. "My children keep me going," says Firuza while she gently strokes the girl's hair. "My children and the kindness of strangers," she smiles. "You spend your life with someone whom you thought was close to you and then..." A tear twinkles in Firuza's eye. "I cannot thank the people enough who help me. I hope I will be able to repay my debt some day somehow."

The smile on Zarifa's face and the hope in her eyes say the same thing. She can't wait to go back to school. "I will have to go back to the fourth grade, but I don't mind even if it's the third. I just want to study again." Zarifa hasn't decided what she wants to be when she grows up, but she knows one thing: "I want to buy a big house with many windows and a yard where my mother, my brothers and I will live."

As Firuza sees us off in the yard, she tells the little girl, "go home, now, your mother will be worried." Part of the way the girl walks with us to the neighbouring building. Upon reaching the steps, she turns back to wave at Firuza. She does it mechanically knowing that Firuza won't look away until she's in.

From the bottom of the pathway, we see Firuza already rushing back from the neighbouring building. The blankets she carries need to be clean and dry till tomorrow. Hopefully, Firuza too will have her tomorrow, a better one for her and her children.