Streetkids

I wandered through the market trying to block out the noise of all the onlookers screaming at me. I was in no mood to try and fend off the enterpreneurs, taxi drivers or beggars all trying to catch my attention in hopes of making their evening meal. I repeated hapana, hapana, hapana (no) as I walked with my eyes down trying to keep the attention I was getting to an absolute minimum. I was so in my own world that I almost snapped hapana at a little boy who came up to me asking for something to eat. I bit my tongue just in time and did a double take. The reason I came to Tanzania was to try and help children like him, and yet I almost dismissed him out of hand. He had sulked back into the shadows, expecting me, like everyone else, not to help him.

I told him to njoo hapa (come here) and three more little boys came out of the shadows and started following me. I took them to the pizzeria place down the street and after washing we all sat down for dinner. Nickolas, Jameson, Ngusha and Samwel (10-12) were soon joined by Brian (9) and were all very sweet and told me they wanted to come home with me. I explained that I couldn't adopt them (legally, the government of Tanzania won't let people adopt unless they have been a resident here for 2 years - so all of you back home can breath a sigh of relief!) but that they could go to an orphanage if they wanted a place to stay. They all told me they wanted to go, so I called Joseph who said he would be happy to take them in. I gave them all Fonelisco's address (it is close to the city centre) and they promised me they would go - I just hope they do.

Spending an hour with the boys made me feel so much better. It made me realise that even though being asked for money all the time is really frustrating, and feeling like I am constantly being ripped off is a bit frustrating, I am so lucky. I can't imagine the resilience of being nine years old and trying to scrape together my next meal every day and a place that's safe to sleep each night.