Lost boys

Lost boys

I’ve just returned to Lagos and noticed how hard the faces of the local area boys were. Boys in their teens with scars and penetrating eyes, screwed up mouths and desperate husky voices. They wanted some naira for forcibly washing our windscreen. I had no money having just returned that morning. That’s when I realised the 50 naira is what you give to not have to listen to the please of those who beg by day maybe mug by might, to wonder at the harshness of life’s lottery. When i got home I said to my husband what kind of life must they have had to look like that. He replied you don’t want to know. London immediately seems light years away.

We worry so much about the fine points of our children’s education we forget about those who have yet to breathe the rare air of a school room.

Slum to School is a charity I really like because they are trying to provide schooling to the many school kids in Lagos for whom school is like something they dream about when their hard day comes to an end. It kind of puts everything into perspective.

I have yet to donate or do anything with them because of ebola and I’m worried about heading into the slums of Makoko. It takes some courage.

But do check them out – they are doing a fantastic job.



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