“That was interesting use of language”, said Shelley as we walked on, “I like the way he said ‘Do you want to promote us?‘”. I’d actually not spotted it.
We were walking in Nairobi on Sunday and talking about condoms and masturbation in the wake of my having attended an HIV/AIDS awareness day on Saturday (that I should also write a Blog entry on).
“We are two poor street kids”, said two teenage street boys approaching us from the muddy verge, “do you want to promote us?”.
I shook the hand of the first, he wore a pair of Clark Kent glasses, but without lenses, that somehow managed to lend him an air of sophistication despite the fact that his muddy clothes matched the street.
I shook thehand of the second, it was sticky; my smile congealed.
“What will you give us?”
“I will not give you anything”
“How will you help us?”
“I will not help you”
This is a tough line, but not as tough as their lives.
The previous day in almost the same place, I’d been approached by a middle aged lady whose missing front lower teeth, I believe, mean she blelongs to one of the western tribes who do that to their children (hey, I’m not against body mods, but I chose mine).
“Can you give me a job working in your home?”
I explained my situation, that I live near Kangundo, by the hospitatlity of the Holy Rosary Sisters, teaching at a secretarial college.
“The Catholics?!”, she exclaimed.
“Yes, the Catholics”
“You yourself, are you a catholic?”
“I am an Anglican”, (well, its true technically)
“God bless you for helping our children”, she said as she walked on.