Arif Salman Kahn

This is twelve year old Arif Kahn. Arif has a story. I don’t know much of his story, and despite much prompting I’m struggle to discover it, but I’ll tell you what I do know. Arif can’t read or write, and he has never been to school. I asked him if he would like to go and I got neither a yes or no, he just said it had nothing to do with money, the usual reason; but his father died and he has to work. The shop is owned by his relatives and he works there from eight in the morning until nine at night. It’s not hard work, as like a lot of work in India; it involves sitting around waiting and trying to attract customers, in reality he’s lucky he’s not carrying loads or selling things. He is paid one thousand rupees a month, about fourteen pounds, and this is sent back to his mother. I tried to discover where that was but he didn’t seem keen on answering the question and I didn’t want to push him. His English is excellent and I never feel a need to grade my language like I do with many people. He doesn’t just work in an internet shop though, he runs the place and I’m constantly being told off for doing something wrong, despite his constant surveillance. 

But Arif’s life isn’t out of the ordinary in India. His is the story of millions of young boys, and even more so young girls. The one common factor being wealth, or lack of it, and although the finer details of the reasons may change, the poor of this new ‘Modern India’ don’t seem to be seeing much of the benefits the politicians and elites seem so keen to tell everyone about. The idea is that the wealth will trickle down and will eventually benefit everyone. The reality is that child labour, although in India it’s just called labour, is nothing out of the ordinary. Just ask Arif, who doesn’t complain about it, expect or ask for anything, but with a smile on his face he simply gets on with it. He isn’t suffering enough so his face won’t appear on the celebrity career building Comic Relief or on sponsorship forms or any of that other bullshit people do in the west to give themselves some self-satisfied feel good, and to convince themselves that they’re ‘doing their bit’. His story is just about the reality of life in India and across the developing world too. There’s no point giving him pity or getting sentimental as it will achieve nothing, and that’s not my aim. I just wanted you to be aware of this one cool little boy and his life, and to just ask you to give him a moments thought before getting on with your own life.