Christmas in a barrel
John ‘Bobby' Gilmore
Fr Bobby Gilmore reflects on the heartbreak involved in emigration.
A crisis of papers unfixed, two three jobs as a domestic and weathering the cold, the barrel in her kitchen-corner a ship's hold, constantly waiting to be filled - This time bargain clothes, employers' cast-offs for the children back home. - (Grace Nichols, Jamaican poet)
The words of this poem depict a situation that exists not just in Jamaica and the Caribbean but around the world where women have to leave home and children to find a life.
The human factor
The fracture in primary relationships between mother and child is profound with lasting ache and distress on both sides that do not register when emigrants remittances are discussed. Few at home realise the distress of the woman depicted in Grace Nichols poem. In Jamaica the children left behind by emigrants are called "Barrel Children."
Regularly, throughout the year they receive barrels of food and clothing from absent parents around the world. These barrels are symbols of love, affection and care, an effort to bridge gaps of loss and loneliness. For those emigrants who are undocumented, these gaps cannot be filled by occasional visits home.
Tommy's Case
One morning in Jamaica, Marian, the housekeeper at the rectory informed me that a young man named Tommy wanted to see me. Arriving at the door he was waiting for me. He was a fine, handsome, well-dressed 20-year-old. I invited him in. He started to talk with an American accent and after a few words this dissolved into terrible stammering.
To make him feel at ease I offered him a coffee. He told me with great difficulty that he lived with his grandmother since his mother departed for America when he was 5-years-old. His mother regularly sent money back and barrels of clothes for him and his grandmother.
Tommy's problem was that he was unable to write to his mother. His grandmother, also illiterate, didn't value education. She was lax in making sure that Tommy went to school. At the onset of the stammering after his mother left, Tommy was reluctant to attend school because his fellow students made fun of him.
He was now asking me to write a letter to his mother. It was one of the most difficult pastoral tasks that I ever took on. It was tedious trying to get Tommy to express himself and putting in words not just what he verbally expressed but what his heart wished to say to his mother who was physically absent but lovingly present.
After I had finished the letter and Tommy was off to the post office, Marian, watching Tommy walk across the yard said in the local patois, "Stammer start after him mother leave for farign. It must be shock of mother leave. Him granny could not get him go school cause him ashamed of him words." The incident gave me an insight into an aspect of migration that is seldom thought about.
Trying to compensate
People, like Tommy's mother, decide to leave in the hope of a better life for themselves and to improve the lot of the families left behind. ‘Remittance' is the word used to describe a transaction between emigrants and their people at home. It's generally
a monetary contribution from an emigrant's earnings to keep the food on the table at home. It can also take the form of barrels of food, clothing, furniture and other goods. Formerly, emigrant remittances got hardly a passing mention on government balance sheets even though they were a welcome package that boosted foreign exchange.
The value of emigrant remittances
It's estimated that Ireland benefited to the tune of five billion pounds sterling from Irish emigrants to Britain between 1950 and 1965. There was hardly any recognition of this by Irish governments until recently. Indeed, Irish emigrants were an unnoticed sector of Irish life unless of course they were successful and made a name for themselves overseas. Those who sent remittances, like Tommy's mother, were forgotten. Lately, emigrant remittances have become more important than foreign direct investment from multi-national companies. In Ghana, for example, foreign direct investment is worth
3% of national income; remittances are worth 10-15%. In most developing countries, emigrant remittances are the cornerstone of foreign exchange earnings used to pay international debts. In Jamaica emigrant remittances generate almost as much foreign exchange as the primary industry, tourism. The daily queues outside post offices and money transfer agencies are evidence of the dependency of people at home on money originating from abroad. Worldwide, in 2005 emigrant remittances totaled US$230 billion. The world's aid budget was US$105 billion.
Banking and remittances
This is a boon for the banking and money transfer agencies which charge from 5% to 8% for such transfers.
Having realised the importance of remittances, the Department for International Development in Britain has set up a website: www.sendmoneyhome.org to increase information about money transfer facilities in the hope of bringing down charges by creating competition.
Even the World Bank and the British Bankers' Association have begun to acknowledge the importance of remittances and have promised to work with the Department of International Development in Britain to make transfers easier, less costly and more transparent.
Human suffering involved
While this rising concern may be welcome news for Tommy and his mother, there is little consideration for the mental, emotional loss and stress being experienced by both, in the separation brought about by the breach in their primary mother/child relationship.
It's easy to quantify emigrant remittances in dollars; however, dollars and designer cast-offs don't fill the gap for parents who leave children behind. How could one quantify Tommy's and his mother's loss of each other and the deprivation that he has suffered
by his stammer and illiteracy over the years?
In our modern interconnected world why is it not possible to offer decent arrangements to emigrant to manage their affairs? Tommy and his mother and millions like them who miss each other would be enriched. Is it too much to expect?
