FEAR FOR CHILDREN WHO ARE PICKING CAREER IN COCAINE

In Britain students pick apples and potatoes to earn extra cash over
the summer. In France they pick grapes. In Colombia, children such as
nine-year-old Pedro Lopez pick coca leaves to boost their holiday income.

But since its introduction 20 years ago, coca growing has destroyed
many rural communities and traditions, and there are fears that a new
generation is becoming inexorably involved in the drug trade.

"We start work at 5.30 in the morning and finish at six in the
evening," says Pedro. "It's a long walk to the plantation and hard
work. But I enjoy it and I am becoming an expert picker. I earn $100
a week."

Pedro's "walk" is a steep three-hour trek in tropical heat, but such
an income is irresistible in this area of northern Colombia which
otherwise survives on subsistence farming.

Pedro is one of 150 children in the town of Simiti who spend their
holidays in the coca fields, highlighting the social changes which the
crop has brought to many rural areas.

When Colombia's marijuana bonanza ended in the early 1980s, Pablo
Escobar's Medellin cartel began to spread and introduce coca to
farming regions.

Few ignored the arrival of a cash crop and today virtually all the
families in Simiti are dedicated to the cocaine industry.

Farmers now find themselves in a vicious economic circle: they moved
into coca to increase their incomes, but this caused a steep rise in
living costs, forcing communities further into illicit
cultivation.

When Pedro and his friends finish work, they arm themselves with
sticks, paint their faces, and play "guerrillas and
paramilitaries".

Social workers and local officials claim that children such as Pedro
are being tied to the cocaine business from an early age. Truancy,
especially among the under-12s, has rocketed in recent years.

"Aside from easing the economic hardship of their families, these
children earn enough to buy designer clothes, trainers and personal
stereos," says local councillor Freddy Martinez. "This causes jealousy
and competition, and encourages other children to dedicate themselves
to coca picking. The long-term consequences for the local community
are disastrous."

The government's Plante scheme is supposed to offer crop-replacement
options and encourage peasants away from planting coca.

Around Simiti, locals have been promised communal cattle ranches,
subsidized land use and schemes to develop river fishing as an
economic resource.

But the lack of alternatives worries Vincente Mejia, a social worker.
"Assuming these children finish school, what will they choose - an
impoverished student life in one of the big cities, or a lucrative job
further up the cocaine ladder?" he asks. "It's not difficult to
imagine the more entrepreneurial of them becoming the cocaine barons
of the future."

At nine years old, Pedro Lopez does not know what he wants to do when
he grows up. But his short-term aims are clear. "I want to be like 'El
Negro' and be the one to collect the most leaf and earn most money,"
he says. "He picks double what I can, and he's really cool."

Checked-by: "Rich O'Grady"