'ORPHANS' OF THE DRUG EPIDEMIC

Kerman, Iran-Hamideh Baghban no longer wakes up in a home ruined
by drug addiction.

Like hundreds of other virtual orphans of Iran's drug epidemic,
Hamideh now lives in a shelter operated by a local charity whose
founders were concerned about the effects of the drug problem on children.

"When my mother and my half-brother would argue over money for drugs,
he would hit me," said Hamideh, 15, one of thousands of children in
Iran whose families have been ripped apart by dependence on opium and
heroin. "Now she's in prison, my half-brother keeps sending me out to
get money for him, to borrow from people who won't even talk to him
anymore."

In a country where the government considers about 2 percent of the
population of 70 million to be drug abusers, the number of children
growing up in homes upended by drug abuse far exceeds the capacity of
the Mashiz Charitable Institute, established in 1994 by a group of
wealthy citizens. It is the only charity of its type in Iran. The
government funds some detoxification and rehabilitation centers for
adults, but the children of the country's afflicted families are
largely at the mercy of the institute, which has 11 centers housing
nearly 400 children.

Ten of the charity's 11 centers are earmarked for girls, because they
are more vulnerable to exploitation than boys, officials said. The few
lucky to be placed at one of the centers are provided schooling and a
stable environment where they also are trained to fend for themselves
eventually.

"We tell the kids that we're not just here to feed and clothe them,"
said Parvin Abbaspour, the institute's managing director. "We're here
to instill in them a sense of independence and to help them with their
families." Besides accommodation and food, the centers provide
counseling, religious instruction, health care and vocational training
for older children.

Hamideh ended up at the shelter here in Kerman last month after
confiding in her school counselors about the physical abuse and the
general disorder she faced at home. They helped place her with the
all-girl shelter - other shelters are spread out over the surrounding
province - where communal bonds help ease the pain of separation from
parents and other loved ones.

"We talk to each other about it all, but we tell each other not to
tell anyone else at school because we're embarrassed," said Maryam, a
wide-eyed 12-year-old with a soft, hoarse voice. She has been living
in the Kerman center for four years. She wants to be a heart surgeon.

"When I was young my mother was smuggling drugs, and they arrested
her," Maryam said. "When my mother was taken to prison my dad took
advantage of the situation and married a woman who is a bad woman."

The stepmother, Maryam said, beat her and her 7-year-old sister, who
was born deaf and with a damaged leg. School officials, as with
Hamideh, helped place Maryam and her sister at the shelter. In each
case, a court oversaw the transfer of custody.

Maryam's mother has served five years in prison and has three more to
do. Every other weekend she is allowed out of prison to see her
children. Maryam loves to see her mother, but when asked whether she
would like to live with her or at the institute's home, she is unsure.

"I don't know," she said, squirming in her seat and smiling at the
women who now look after her. "I might want to go to live with my mom,
but they are like my mom, too."