Putting Troubled Lives on Hold

When the hacked-up body parts of her friends began turning up around San José three years ago, Jackeline Brenes, 12, knew she had to leave her life on the streets—so the drug-addicted child of a prostitute entered a Salvation Army drug-rehab program, which the government financed.

The treatment was supposed to last 13 months. After three months, Brenes quit and rejoined her gang. But when she tried returning to drug rehab, she found the Salvation Army center had closed. The government agency that paid for the rehab program was $90,000 behind in its payments and locked in squabbles with the ministry over rules and other issues. The Salvation Army had to shut down the program.

Determined not to return to her gang, Brenes turned to Christ for the City International and its weekday rehab program. Last November, she was the first youth to enter CFCI's 15-month residential program, called Renacer. It is supported completely with private funds. In June, Renacer staff led Brenes to Christ.

Brenes's tale highlights just one of the difficulties Christian ministries may encounter when working with government agencies. A representative from the Catholic Casa Alianza ministry said that Costa Rica's child service agency, PANI, causes problems through arrogance.

"I've worked with government contracts since the 1970s," said David Befus, president of Miami-based Latin America Mission. "Working with government is always risky." He has seen government agencies, including ones in the United States, start programs in partnership with Christian ministries, but when politics change, funding dries up.

Evangelicals in Costa Rica have long offered programs to help needy children. The country has at least 3,000 street children. Beginning in 1999, Costa Rica's government sought to channel aid to nongovernmental organizations (NGOs).

PANI recognized the Salvation Army's success in treating addicts and street people. It asked the ministry to take over a failed residential youth treatment center. With no church-state separation rules to restrict religious programs, evangelicals saw a chance to make lasting change in troubled young lives (CT, April 24, 2000, p. 32).

Salvation Army spokesman Carlos Cháves says that while PANI and the Army drafted a contract together, they lacked common goals. "We set our own goals, but in the end, [PANI] didn't know what its goal was."

When residents destroyed bed sheets, there was no money to replace them because PANI had fallen behind in its payments. Inspectors cited the ministry for neglect. When one street girl—not Brenes—attacked a worker, the Army would not allow her to stay at the facility, although she could continue eating there. The girl complained to PANI, which withheld more money.

Charging breach of contract, the Army sued PANI. Costa Rica's highest court ruled in June that the government agency's actions were arbitrary and ordered repayment of $30,000. Yet it is a hollow victory. The Army has yet to see any of the disputed money.

"When the Salvation Army programs closed, our public image suffered greatly," Cháves says. "But the children were more damaged because they were abandoned yet again."

Maria Eugenia Montero, director of the Renacer Restoration Center, says she opted not to rely on state funding. Instead, 85 percent of its $82,800 annual budget comes from Costa Rican businesses and individuals.

PANI offered Renacer "a good sum of money" for its outreach, which Montero suspected it could not provide. "NGOs can sign agreements [with the state], but in most cases the funding provided is much less than what was agreed upon, and always it's late," she says. "PANI's problems with bureaucracy, lack of planning, and bad administration have made PANI an ineffective entity."

Rosalía Gil, Costa Rica's minister for child and adolescent issues, claimed the Salvation Army administered the program poorly, but she offered no specific examples. The Salvation Army says its successful lawsuit against PANI proves the state agency was in the wrong.

Latin America Mission's Befus isn't surprised that CFCI's program thrives while the Salvation Army's government-funded program collapsed.

"The person who pays the fiddler calls the tune," he says. "You can accept funding from other sources, but if you become dependent on it, you take a big risk."

Now 15, Brenes wants to be a veterinarian. Renacer leader Deliana Solis believes Brenes will make it. "The most important thing about her is her desire to get out of that lifestyle."