• Journal of a black lady

    Dear 24 year old me

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    • Dear 24 year old me

      Dear 24 year old me
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    Where is humanity i asked myself..

    Where is humanity I asked myself…

    On 2nd of October I was on my way to Nairobi, via Arusha with a bus when i saw it happen, By the bus station at ubungo a boy was passing by with a tray of boiled eggs trying to sell them to anyone at the bus station he was ranging from the age of twelve to fourteen i am not sure since i am really not good at determining or guessing what age a kid is but he was younger than my young brother who is fifteen. So as i was saying the boy was passing by selling his boiled eggs with oh so much salt on top but i guess that is how people like their boiled eggs. Okay let’s go back five minutes before that, i arrived at the bus station with my mom who was driving and usually when you get there,dozen men would chase your car as soon as they see you enter the gate and until where you park your car and they would convince you to take their bus not even asking where you are going and some offering to carry your luggage to where the bus you will be boarding will be, despite the fact that you are less than five feet away from there so that day was no different but that morning there was a drunk man offering to clean the car , actually he was already doing it by wiping the dust at the back of the car with a piece of towel  mom told him to stop and he did.

    We went to the bus i wanted to take and as i was paying for my bus ticket i saw the drunk man standing nearby us doing drank man things at 8AM , i mean it was a Friday morning standing there smelling of nothing but liquor and looking like he had not had a proper bath for a week or so , but i cannot judge him so i went on minding my business trying to find the window seat because i have a thing for window seats. Then that is when the incident happened the girl standing nearby the guy handing me my ticket sad in sorrow  ” jamani….”  while looking behind me so i turned around to see what made her say that that is when i saw the boy with his tray of eggs standing opposite the drunk man who was holding a half crashed egg with some pieces already on the ground between them , i took a look at the boy who was trying to rub off salt and egg shells from his forehead while his eyes were watery like he is about to cry, there were alot of people around some minding their business others looking at what just happened , i asked the lady what happened? then she told me that the young boy holding his tray was passing by and the drunk man took one of the boiled eggs from his tray and literally crashed it on the boy’s forehead , I felt a pain on my chest and something on my throat that i could not even talk and watched the boy who was now crying while still trying to rub off salt from his forehead , i could see from his eyes how hurt and humiliated he felt a man who was also watching the whole scene took both of them aside and was trying to tell the drunk man to pay the boy for the egg. i went to pick my luggage from the car with mom since my bus was leaving soon and my eyes were watery too mom asked me why i was crying and i brushed it off , on our way back to the bus i saw him seated somewhere with his tray of eggs beside him still crying.

    I was still in pain as i was writing this story  on my notebook that day on the bus and telling myself i would share it with my readers when i got the chance to write a blog post . I wanted to go talk to him ask him what is he doing here at 8am on a school day, where are his parents? but i guess i already had the answers to my own questions , i kept wondering about the drunk man too, did he have a family? is this the way he also treated his wife and kids when he got home? maybe it was even worse. So many unanswered questions but i vowed to my mom that day that one day i will fight for the rights of street kids and children’s right in general. i have always wanted to open up an orphanage center , i also want to do a documentary on something related to issues facing people in general in Tanzania but i can’t document everything so inshallah when i have the right equipments like a camera and basic things to do a documentary i will do one on street kids and kids who are not getting their rights in Tanzania .

    I wrote this with hopes of sharing with my readers what i thought was one of the most inhumane thing i have seen and  inshallah with time i will be able to help not one but dozen of kids who are facing issues like this and more, hoping that they will one day get the education they deserve and maybe be the ones that can change and make the world into a better place one kid at a time as they say.





    1. Pedro
      October 5, 2015 / 7:56 am

      The saddest part of all this is that if the kid continues to walk through this path of hardship, chances are that he might turn out as bad as the drunk man or worse. The vicious circle of the street life.
      Good read and good luck in making a difference.

    2. Wakazi
      October 5, 2015 / 11:17 pm

      Pole Sana for experiencing this… It’s a crazy world we living in

      • October 6, 2015 / 11:27 am

        It is but hopefully we can make it a better one.

    3. Larry
      October 12, 2015 / 11:28 am

      Its a sad story in any language…i’ve always felt a lot of pain watching how the street children are offended considering their age level.I believe that together….we can help at promoting a better life for them and create a sustainable enviroment to pursue their dreams. Thanks for sharing with us.

    4. October 12, 2015 / 5:37 pm

      What a story… May Almighty guide you and lead you well to fullfil what He has plant in you, a golden helpful heart .

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