Story contributed by Hani, Community Worker
Children were staying out late, playing in unsafe places, sometimes breaking things. Footballs hitting windows. Shouting matches between neighbours. At first glance, it was easy to see mischief. But beneath the frustration, most residents were asking the same question: “Are they safe?”
And so, we started reaching out to the children who were often seen wandering the blocks – fifteen of them, mostly in primary school – who would become what we called the Children Task Force.
In the early weeks, it became clear they weren’t being difficult on purpose. They just didn’t yet understand what safety meant – not in a neighbourhood sense, not in a way that was rooted in their own experience. No one had walked them through what safe looked or felt like.
So that became the core of the work. Not managing behaviours, but understanding them.
We used games, sports, art. Anything that kept them meaningfully engaged. We created space for questions they hadn’t been asked before. We talked about people they trusted, places that felt comfortable, times they felt unsafe. We slowed things down when needed, and kept showing up. Over time, they did too.
In our final session, we invited them to reflect on everything we’d explored. We handed out polaroid cameras and asked them to take a photo of what “safe space” meant to them.
Some chose stairwells. Void decks. One girl took a photo of the rooftop carpark where she used to sell ice lollies with her grandmother – a place tied to a safe memory, even if she no longer went there.
But most of the photos weren’t of physical spaces.
They were of each other.
That’s when we knew. Safety hadn’t been handed to them, it had been built through connection, routine, and the kind of familiarity that tells you you’re not alone.
The group is on pause now. The children are older. Their needs are shifting. What once held them may no longer fit. And that’s not a loss, it’s just the natural shape of growth.
Some have started speaking about a proper football court. One that’s caged, where they can play freely without worry. We’re exploring how to support them in bringing the idea to the Residents’ Network and MP. Something they can take the lead on.
There’s always a tinge of grief when something meaningful comes to a close. But in community work, endings don’t mean absence. What matters most is that the connection remains long after the initiative ends.
If you’d like to support the next chapter of this work and other initiatives by Beyond, visit: bit.ly/BSSCharityDraw