Serbia's horrific institutions a relic of the past

When Srdjan learned that his child had Down Syndrome, he felt he had little choice other than to send him to an unknown institution. He's never held him, never heard the sound of his voice, never met him. But knowing what we discovered about conditions in Serbia's mental institutions , we wanted to learn what life was like for his son.  We did. We find Srdjan's son, Uros, in what human rights advocates call one of the worst institutions in Serbia.

The conditions here have clearly taken their toll. He spends most of his days in a crib.  He is 11, but looks like he may be six. And he still needs help walking.

Ann Curry: I'm surprised at how small he is.

For a brief time every day, he sits at a table and plays with the same Lego blocks. His eyes are vacant. Attendants tell us he rarely shows emotion. He cries, rarely smiles and never laughs. The meager, overwhelmed staff tends to him and many others the best they can. On holidays and birthdays, they sometimes call the more aware children, posing as their mothers, offering words of comfort.

Ann Curry: You do that? You pretend to be their mother.

Nurse: Da. [nods head yes]

When we talk to Uros's father, Srdjan, 150 miles away, he says he hopes that he can someday rise above his anguish and do what we have done: Meet his son.

Ann Curry: I have several pictures here.

We ask if he would like to see some pictures we took.

Srdjan: OK, OK, yes.

Ann Curry: Of your boy.

It's almost too much for him.

Ann Curry:  I think to anyone listening - to any parent listening, it is very touching how much you care for this son you have never seen.

Srdjan: Da.

But what happens when parents are unwilling to put their mentally disabled children in institutions?

Remember Dusica? Like Srdjan, when she discovered her newborn son, Stefan, had cerebral palsy, she was urged to put him in an institution. But unlike most parents here she refused. She kept her son, and her decision cost her dearly. Many in her family shunned them. Her husband abandoned them.

Dusica: He didn't accept Stefan, saying his world had fallen apart. It probably did. He certainly couldn't be having a harder time now than me.

Stefan is nine now... A robust boy who likes Mcdonald's food. Dusica devotes nearly every waking hour to him.

Most days, he goes to a special school for two hours -- the only time dusica can work.  A van brings him home, where she wheels him up flights of stairs, into an elevator, down more stairs.. And into their modest one-bedroom apartment in Belgrade.

With little government help, each day is a struggle.  Still, from the day he was born, she never doubted her choice.

Ann Curry: What gave you strength?

Dusica: Stefan. Stefan ..  is my engine.

Ann Curry: He's enriched your life.

Dusica: A lot. A lot. In a sense, every movement of his gives me strength. Every smile of his, every new word of his is for me the most beautiful thing in the world.

Mental disability rights advocate Laurie Ahern says the Serbian government is responsible for the hardships faced by these families.  She says alternatives to crowded, understaffed institutions are vital.

Laurie Ahern: It's not like those children can walk out and leave. And if family can't keep a child then, you know, the next best thing would be a foster care situation or maybe a small, small group home. 

Ann Curry: How does Serbia compare to other nations where you've seen this sort of dilemma?

Laurie Ahern:  I have to say that the level of tying children down and confining people to cribs and confining adults to beds who can't walk, I've never seen it to this level.

Ann Curry: Anywhere in the world?

Laurie Ahern: No, no. The state is responsible for what they're doing to people. The state is absolutely responsible.

One of the government ministers in charge of the institutions is Rasim Ljajic. He told us at the time that he was new to the job and had not yet visited the institutions. So we showed him some of our footage.

Ann Curry: Are these conditions, in your mind, humane?

Minister: These conditions are far from humane. Far from humane, well below any acceptable level.

Ann Curry: So, you agree that it is hurting the children, hurting these people with disabilities to be in these institutions.

Minister: Of course, of course. Our general policy is to close down institutions like the ones you visited.  They should not be existing.

Ljajic says the current Serbian government inherited the problem and doesn't have the resources to fix it. But, he says his office is working with rights advocates to develop ways to assist families in need.

Ann Curry: How long is this going to take? Years?

Minister: Sadly, yes, yes.

Ann Curry: So, in the interim, should doctors be stopped from telling families to give up their children?

Minister: Absolutely.

Off a wooded path, on a hill overlooking a peaceful valley, stands a tattered, overgrown cemetery. This is where the Kulina institution buries those who die here, young and old. The town says there is not enough room in its cemetery.

Priests won't preside over funerals here because there is no money to pay them . Some graves are unmarked. No one knows how many are buried here. Alone in life, alone in death. They are the forgotten.

Laurie Ahern: The idea of being locked away and the idea that somehow these people, that their lives aren't valuable, that they are less than human, because they were born with a disability. It's horrendous.  And it's awful. And it shouldn't happen.

MORE FROM INTERNATIONAL

International Section Front

Billionaire's mysterious death in Monte Carlo Former drug dealer saving kids in Congo What happened to little Madeleine? To catch a baby broker Photos: Children of Jalapa Photos: Inside the Hogar Primavera orphanage Photos: At home with the Galicias Photos: Behind the scenes in Guatemala Missing: Enma Galicia Photos: Together again International Section Front   Add International headlines to your news reader: