Sleeping In A Bed Is A Luxury Many Children Don’t Have.
People always ask me, “How do you do what you do?” “I couldn’t. It’s sad. So depressing.” From the moment I stepped foot on the continent of Africa more than eight years ago, I wasn’t ever overcome by sadness or depressed by the encounters I had. I believe that is a testament to the African people. They innately accept the lives they were born into, which to outsiders may seem bleak; their resilience in overcoming hardship fills me with admiration, not pity.
That was until I began spending time with the street kids of Kiseyni.
These days, there is no place I’d rather be than hanging with these kids. The afternoons we spend together are filled with laughter, love, and appreciation. I enjoy every minute I spend with them—until the sun goes down and it’s time for me to leave.
Hassan napping at our 2nd Annual Christmas Party.
When night settles in and the slum turns to darkness, the kids begin to fade. Overcome by exhaustion compounded by hunger and the effects of nonstop glue sniffing, their eyes start to get heavy, though they try to fight it. Sleeping leaves them vulnerable.
Most of the younger kids, 6 to 15 years old, are forced to sleep outside or under a container on the ground — leaving them wide open to theft and assault. The older ones are a little more fortunate, bullying their way into securing the insides of a container or constructing a makeshift house out of a discarded tarp, allowing them more protection. The more exposed the child is, the easier a target they become.
When the sun begins to fall, and it’s time for me to go, I become sad. The thought of going home to a bed with a mattress, pillows, sheets, and blanket weighs on me. I constantly ask Ben (Country coordinator), “Can’t I take them home with me just to give them a safe place to sleep?” He always replies, “Absolutely not.” The ride home on the back of a boda has become a time for reflection.
Little Hassan and his friends are chilling on the ground.
Shubra and Angel show off where they sleep.
Hassan is resting on his mattress.
Before meeting the street kids of Kisenyi, I never thought about whether someone had a bed. I never thought of a bed as a luxury. I’m now acutely aware that there are children everywhere forced to sleep on the floor or even outside on the ground—just like my friends, the invisible children of Kisenyi.
Without the protection of family, government services, or shelter, these children will never know what it feels like to sleep in a warm bed — unless we do something about it. I ask you to join us in buying these children’s beds, mattresses, sheets, and pillows so that we can move them off the streets and into a loving and safe environment.
Shule Foundation will rent a home to be used as a rehabilitation center for the children of Kisenyi. In groups of 20 at a time, we will move children off the streets of Kisenyi and into our home. There, we will rehabilitate them, help locate their families in the hopes of reuniting and resettling them, and prepare them to go back to school.
Help us raise the money we need by April 1 to open our doors and begin helping these children heal.
