PREFACE

      It has now been more than a decade since I first learned about the life and death of child rights activist Iqbal Masih and embarked on a journey that would forever change my life. It all started with one bold headline: “Battled child labor, boy, 12, murdered.” As a Grade 7 student from a middle class suburban neighbourhood, I was shocked to discover these words glaring back at me from the front page of the newspaper one morning. This, my first encounter with injustice as experienced by a child like myself, dramatically changed my ideas about the world. More importantly, it made me realize the world had to change.

      In the beginning, Free The Children was little more than a small group of classmates eager to raise awareness about child labour. None of us had much experience with social justice work—just a desire to take action. Having discovered that children around the world were being forced to work in terrible conditions, toiling away day after day without the hope of going to school, we became determined to work toward change. While striving to free children from poverty and exploitation, we also sought to free our peers—and ourselves—from the idea that we were too young to make a meaningful difference in the world.

      At the time, youth activism had yet to come into its own. A more broadly inclusive approach to children’s issues had yet to appear on the agenda, let alone become a priority. Children’s interests were almost always represented by adults, and young people’s voices were rarely acknowledged. In those days, the idea of children helping children was practically unheard of. As children speaking out on children’s rights, we were an oddity. While our families and friends were always there to cheer us on, others were generally skeptical about what we could accomplish. In the early days, few decision-makers were willing to listen to what we had to say, and fewer still were supportive. With adults unwilling to get involved, we began to make connections with the one group of people we knew would understand: other young people.

      Excited at the prospect of making a difference in the world, children and youth flocked to our organization. With this influx of energy and creativity, Free The Children was able to expand the scope of its activities. Soon, we were speaking to groups across the country, and people were beginning to listen. All our hard work began to pay off as more and more people started to pledge their support.

      It was around this time that I first got the idea of travelling to the developing world. I knew that if we were to help child labourers, we needed to learn from the children themselves. Of course, I didn’t yet have any idea how to arrange a trip like this, let alone convince my parents to let me travel halfway across the globe. I just knew that this was something I had to do.

      My trip to South Asia was to mark a significant turning point in my role as a children’s rights activist, as this account of my adventures makes clear. During my journey through Bangladesh, India, Thailand, Nepal and Pakistan, I had the chance to witness children’s challenges first-hand. I had left home expecting child labour to be something secret and hidden, but to my surprise nothing could have been further from the truth. Working children were everywhere, and eager to talk to me about their experiences. Kids nearly half my age told me that they had no choice except to work. Time and time again they explained how hard they struggled, hoping for a better future. I was in awe of their courage. Often, I felt frustrated by how little I could actually do to help my new friends. Slowly, I came to realize that the one way I, a twelve-year-old from Canada, could really make a difference was by sharing their stories. I could return their friendship by making certain they would never be forgotten.

      While travelling in South Asia I came to understand that child labour is both a cause and consequence of poverty. I began to see that it wasn’t enough to simply be against child labour when children and their families were desperately in need of basic necessities and new opportunities. It was then that I first came to understand that freeing children means more than ensuring that no child be enslaved: it means empowering young