Untold misery of child brides in Syria

In a prefabricated cabin in the sprawling camp, a girl, 13, sat on the floor engulfed by a frilly white dress, and a hooded silk cape.
She was surrounded by children, not much younger than her, clapping and singing a nursery rhyme.
What looked like a game of dressing-up was in fact her wedding reception. Her Mother looked on from a distance and wept - for her war torn homeland, and perhaps for her daughter. She asked us not to give their names.
No choice Earlier, at a makeshift beauty salon, a fellow Syrian refugee curled the girl's hair and layered make-up on her face - the finishing touches to the end of a childhood.
The bride told me her 25-year-old husband had been chosen by her family and she had never seen him before. She appeared relaxed, and said she was happy to be getting married. The reality is she had no choice.
Almost one third ( 32% ) of refugee marriages in Jordan involve a girl under 18, according to the latest figures from Unicef. This refers to registered marriages, so the actual figure may be much higher. The rate of child marriage in Syria before the war was 13%.
Some families marry off their daughters because of tradition. Others see a husband as protection for their daughters, but the UN says most are driven by poverty.
City of the dispossessed "The longer the crisis in Syria lasts, the more we will see refugee families using this as a coping mechanism," said Michele Servadei, deputy Jordan representative for Unicef. "The vast majority of these cases are child abuse, even if the parents are giving their permission."
n Zaatari camp - a city of the dispossessed sprouting in the desert - some are married before they reach their teens.
Jordanian midwife Mounira Shaban, known in the camp as "Mama Mounira", was invited to the wedding of a 12-year old girl and a 14-year old boy. She could not bring herself to attend.
"I felt like I wanted to cry," she said. "I felt like she was my daughter. I think this is violence. It's a shame. If a girl is 18 or over they think she is old and will not marry."
Mounira tries to spare young girls from adult burdens. At her clinic she lectures refugees, sitting on benches in the sand, about the problems faced by young brides.
"They don't know how to cook," she said, "and they don't know how to read and write. They have to take care of their husbands, when they want to go outside and play. Many of them get divorced."
That is what is ahead for a slender 17-year-old we met who did not want to be identified. She was married at 15 and has a treasured baby girl.
'Not scared of divorce' The two-month old wriggled in her arms, snug in a pink and white baby-grow, and her mother's love. But her husband is threatening to take the child away, as the price of her freedom.