The boy who wanted water (by John)

Even though we have been here a while now – every now and again something new impacts you. Life is a struggle for so many.   When driving in the city of Mombasa it is fairly typical for people who are begging to come up to the car at various points of the journey and ask for ‘something small’. The needs vary. One elderly woman who is blind is escorted by her daughter to beg, one skinny little girl asks for some coins. Some people approach the car in order to sell something.

And so it was last week on one of our trips when, as we pulled up to a junction two small boys, probably about 8 years of age approached the car as we were waiting in a queue of traffic. One boy held out his hand and asked for money – I didn’t have any for him. Then the second boy approached. He caught sight of my litre bottle of water and mimed to drink. I lowered the window down a bit further and gave him my bottle. He shouted ‘asante’ (Thanks) and we drove off.

I will never forget this moment. The bottle was half full of tepid water. His need was so desperate, so elemental, that it brought all my feelings of injustice and hatred of the causes of poverty to the fore. I don’t know his name and I doubt I will see him again.

I want to find him, ask his name and say ‘asante.’