This week we addressed why a new Netflix documentary sends the wrong message about orphanages, at the wrong moment. Rukhiya Budden endured a traumatic childhood in a Kenyan orphanage, and is now a passionate advocate for their closure. She explains why such documentaries can be unhelpful, and where we can go from here.
“The recent release of a high profile documentary featuring children in institutional care has reopened painful and urgent questions about how we, as a global society, safeguard vulnerable children when celebrity influence and institutional power are involved.
I write from lived experience, professional practice, and global advocacy.
I am a survivor of institutional care, a global ambassador working to end the use of orphanages, a child psychotherapist who volunteers in UK schools, and a mother of three daughters whose safety and dignity I protect fiercely. I am also the author of two books: Jannah & Pepo: The Healing Drum of Kenya, a diverse and inclusive story about grief and loss, co-authored with my ten-year-old daughter, and The Healing Mandala colouring book, designed to help children ground themselves and find their centre while experiencing grief. Both books are being developed as wellbeing resources to support UK schools in meeting new government requirements for teaching about death and loss, while aligning with safeguarding standards coming into effect from September 2026.
I chose not to watch the documentary. That decision was deliberate. I will not contribute to the monetisation of children’s suffering. Nor would I retraumatise myself. But I have listened closely to the conversations surrounding it, and they have reopened memories that many survivors carry quietly for life.
As a child in a Nairobi orphanage, I was beaten to perform happiness. I was forced to dance and smile for visitors and donors. What the world never saw were the threats behind closed doors, the exclusion of children who did not meet the staff requirements, the fear, the abuse, and the powerlessness. Children in institutions cannot meaningfully consent to being filmed or featured. They do not have the power to agree or refuse, yet their images are shared globally to generate donations, attention, and influence.
More than 80 percent of children living in orphanages worldwide have at least one living parent or close relative. Poverty, mental health issues, not orphanhood, is the primary reason children are institutionalised. Orphanages persist because they are lucrative and emotionally compelling. They rely on moral narratives of rescue, reinforced by celebrity endorsement, and large institutions that are rarely challenged.
In my own experience, money raised in the name of children frequently ended up benefiting staff and their families rather than the children themselves. This is not an isolated experience. It reflects a systemic failure that continues when safeguarding standards are applied selectively depending on power, platform, or public image.
From a child safeguarding perspective, this raises serious ethical concerns. Practices that would be considered unacceptable in the UK or Europe are often overlooked elsewhere. We must ask whether any of us would allow our own children, whom we carefully protect from public exposure, to be filmed, branded, and distributed to a global audience without their informed consent or long term protection.
This is not about blame. It is about responsibility.
Good intentions do not replace safeguarding. Visibility does not equal protection. And influence must never override accountability. When celebrities and institutions engage with vulnerable children, their duty of care must be higher, not lower.
I believe lack of insight can lead even well intentioned people to cause harm unconsciously. For that reason, I extend an invitation rather than condemnation. I invite those involved to engage with the research, survivor testimony, and government level reform work led by organisations such as Hope and Homes for Children and Lumos. Their work demonstrates clearly that family-based care, security, safety, love and belonging not institutionalisation, is what children need to thrive.
As a society, we must ask ourselves what is genuinely in the best interests of children. Are we prepared to challenge powerful narratives when they compromise safeguarding? Are we willing to look beyond the polished exterior and see the children behind it?
Let us use this moment to deepen our insight, strengthen accountability, and centre children’s rights above all else. Children deserve protection, dignity, and belonging, not performance.
Let this be the moment we choose safeguarding over spectacle, and responsibility over influence. Safeguarding must never be selective or reserved for children whose parents, advocates, or institutions have platforms and power. It must apply equally to every child, everywhere.”
