Russian Federation: Rustam's story
By John Varoli In a siege that lasted a little more than 50-hours, nearly 1,300 children and adults sat in the sports gym rigged with explosives at Beslan's School No. 1. Heavily armed terrorists threatened to execute them if they spoke, cried, moved suddenly, or disobeyed any order. Hungry, thirsty, and terrified, their lives could be extinguished at any moment. One boy, Rustam Kabaloyev, 11, sat under one of the powerful homemade bombs, which was strapped to the basketball board rising three metres above his head. For two days, Rustam faced thoughts that no child should ever have to face.Six months later, we sit in the living room of his Beslan neighbours. We are joined by four other families whose relatives were held hostage. Rustam, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Macaulay Culkin in the 1990 American film, Home Alone, understands why we’re meeting, and his withdrawn and sullen look confirms my worry that he’s not terribly enthusiastic to meet me. “The worse thing for me was knowing that my son sat there for two days and was convinced he was going to die and never see his mother again.’’ Albina, Rustam's mother. I had been warned that armies of journalists have marched through Beslan over the past six months, and many children are tired of the attention. The children chosen for this meeting, so I was told by a local psychologist, have made strides in their rehabilitation and should be ready to speak about their ordeal. Since I have no reason to doubt her, I can only imagine that if Rustam is ready to speak, the other children must be far worse off. I begin our conversation with small talk about life, video games, and travel abroad. Rustam relaxes and lightens up, relieved that he may not have to discuss his horrible memories after all. Each one of my carefree questions, however, is met by his request to repeat it. “Huh, What’d you say?’’ asks Rustam politely, much the same way an old man with hearing trouble might ask. “That’s his bad ear,’’ says his mother from across the room, saying his ear drum was smashed by the blast. “Speak louder.’’ I soon disappoint Rustam, however, when I unexpectedly ask what exactly he remembers that fateful day. Rustam suddenly falls silent, squirms in his seat, looks at the ceiling, and does not open his mouth. Realizing he can’t continue, I leave him alone and cross the room to speak to his mother, Albina Sakiyeva, who is speaking to some of the other mothers. Visibly relieved by my exit, Rustam begins to chat and play with his friend and former hostage, Sasha Chedzemov, 12. “You have to understand their situation,’’ says Albina, her voice suddenly choking and her face becoming flushed. “The worse thing for me was knowing that my son sat there for two days and was convinced he was going to die and never see his mother again.’’ At these words, Rustam stops horsing around with Sasha, and begins to eavesdrop on our conversation. His mother continues. “He sat there and stared at the door [during the siege], thinking if only somehow he could slip through, and run away,’’ recalled Albina, a young and energetic woman who works as an accountant. “We’re not religious and I’ve never taught him to pray, but somehow for the first time in his life, Rustam began to pray for God to save him.’’ When the first bomb detonated, Rustam momentarily lost sense of time and space amid the chaos, but managed to stay conscious. The deafening sound shattered his eardrums, left him contused and in shock. His vision failed and his eyes began to shut, but he held on to life; he thought he was dying. “Suddenly he came to and saw the door had been blown up by the blast; he got up and bolted for the door,’’ his mother continued emotionally. Albina relates many other details, in such details that one might think she was present in the gym with her son. In a way, I am sure she was. UNICEF responds: the Vladikavkaz Centre The moment the siege began, UNICEF staff saw that survivors would probably need long-term psychological and emotional support and began to draw up plans.Within a month of the siege, UNICEF, together with the Republic of Ossetia's Ministry of Education, launched a psychosocial rehabilitation programme in the republic’s capital, Vladikavkaz, to provide that support. The programme began operating on October 12, and is run by caring and committed specialists, some of them trained with UNICEF support. The programme is set to run until the end of 2005. “Our centre offers children and families a complete basket of rehabilitation services,'' said psychologist, Larissa Yukhanova, adding that the centre offers medical assistance --- on the premises are neurologists, and pediatricians --- as well as psychological counseling.
“We all need help, all the people in our republic,'' Zhanna Tsutsieva, Centre Director. About 25 to 30 Beslan children come to the centre each day, but besides these, the centre also has its main task to fulfill --- each day welcoming up to 180 troubled children from across the North Ossetian republic. If the child’s trauma is substantial, intensive rehabilitation may last more than three weeks. If not, two weeks usually suffices. “We have already rehabilitated 70 children, but certainly have a long way to go,’’ said Zhanna Tsutsieva, the centre’s director. While the children and faculty of School No 1 obviously bear the worse scars, according to monitoring carried out by the centre and UNICEF, all 7,000 children of Beslan have been affected in one way or another by the tragedy. “We all need help, all the people in our republic,'' says Ms. Tsutsieva, becoming tense, her face suddenly flushed with emotion. “All of us who saw that terrible day or who even just heard about it, even children from Vladikavkaz, have suffered an enormous psychological shock, and need assistance.'' The Ministry of Education has a fine team in place at the centre, and they understand the problem is long-term, but finding the financing will prove a thorny question. “Over the years, we’ll need prophylactic programmes against possible drug addiction and alcoholism for all Beslan children,’’ said Larissa Khabayeva, the Coordinator of the programme. “At the same time, we must be careful not to cultivate in these children a dependence syndrome, where they get used to many gifts and lavish foreign travel.’’ Ms. Khabayeva said that plans are afoot to open a branch of the centre in Beslan so families won’t have to make the 30 to 40 minute journey to Vladikavkaz. UNICEF’s role in the centre varies, according to requests from the Ministry of Education, which provides lists of the most urgent needs. To date, UNICEF support has included a computer class, a bath for water therapy, physiotherapy equipment, and speech therapy computer programmes – essential for the many children who suffered severe head injuries. The main area where UNICEF is having a real impact is in funding the training of local personnel. Some have been sent for further studies in St. Petersburg, and outside experts have been brought to the centre in Vladikavkaz. “I built this centre slowly over the past 14 years, literally by gathering crumbs here and there to make this a pleasant place for children, but with UNICEF's assistance this centre has taken a gigantic step forward that I never thought possible,’’ said Dr. Tsutsieva. “UNICEF is an organization that just doesn't speak pretty words, but it really lives up to its promise, and it's an organization that is really helping the children of Beslan.'' Training the Vladikavaz specialists, however, has proven to be a delicate issue. Dr. Tsutsieva explains that people in her city are wary of psychologists. “Many often confuse psychologist with psychiatrist and believe there is a stigma attached if a person turns to such assistance,’’ she says. Still, as Larissa Yukhanova aptly puts it, the best training can never replace what she believes is a natural ability to work with children in need. Intuition and empathy are two important traits that make an effective psychologist, she says. “Just because someone is a trained and experience psychologist doesn’t mean they can work with children who have suffered through terrorist attacks,'' said Ms. Yukhanova. “It’s important to choose the right people so mistakes aren’t made that only end up reinforcing the child's feeling of isolation and pain.’’ Indeed, all the children are very different, and each requires a unique approach. Some children have foundered in a state of depression so deep that it is very difficult to reach them. Others have become more emotional and aggressive. An important way to create both a relaxing environment for the children at the Vladikavkaz Centre, and to make treatment even more effective, is by involving the parents and other relatives. “The attitude of the parents to the child's condition and continuing rehabilitation is an important factor,’’ said Dr. Tsutsieva. “If a child goes back to a home where the parents are still under duress, then the assistance we offered will be undone.'' John Varoli, an American, has lived in Russia since 1992. He worked with street children in Moscow for nearly four years before becoming a writer and journalist in 1997. Now based in St. Petersburg, he writes for Bloomberg News, the New York Times, the International Herald Tribune, the Art Newspaper, and many other publications. For more information: Anna Chernyakhovskaya, Communication Officer, (7 095) 933 88 22/18
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