Innocent Dreams In A Broken System?
Little Ache is four years old. She is beautiful, expressive and her young eyes still have hope in them. Just like her sister, Khadijah, who wants to be a doctor and a fashion designer, yet, their brimming childhood expectations about life is hinged on a shaky sociopolitical system. A system they barely understand; not like the rest of the adults understand.
https://www.dropbox.com/s/htt6es7i2veduj2/Maruwa%20Outreach.mov?dl=0
Like every other Sunday, this small community in Maruwa exists as a recluse. An open space of pale, creamy sand is semi-enclosed by wooden tents, wrapped in old tarpaulin sheets. Each detached tent is scantily rooted in the sands, just deep enough to be easily drifted. It’s all sand because these people do not have a home, about 300 of them. They are transients from different communities gathered together by their shared struggles and the common need for shelter, security and community. For most of them, it’s only about survival. While the kids can muster the strength to play in the sun, the young adults linger in the shed with eyes void of lustre and hope. As with most slums, the men tend to submit themselves to a potent mix of liquor and weed; an attempt to escape from their brutal reality. Perhaps, if they got high enough, some things won’t matter.
Here’s the truth for these kids: it’s Nigeria and they won’t get an equal fighting chance. A chance to explore the possibility of achieving their dreams or even room to change those dreams and choose new ones. Rather, they would likely be thrown into a chaotic system of disarray and inequality. The older they become, they will notice the disparity, first, with the other chubbier kids in brightly coloured uniforms. It won’t be the other kids’ fault nor theirs, but they would grow to understand how unprivileged they are. They would notice how limited their options are and, some would see those options as no options. Most would repeat the cycle because it’s all they have ever seen and ever experienced. Some might be angered by the system and seek out to hurt other people. Some might be motivated to rise above their circumstances. Who knows?
One thing is certain, without deliberate exposure to regenerative ideas, perspectives and experiences, the mind will reproduce what has seen and experienced.
There might be hope, they have community. They have each other, something most of us, Nigerians, barely grasp. In the putrid mess, the weight of tribe, religion and ethnicity weakens. Little Ashe and Ogochi go to school together and play every morning. Their lesson teacher, a pastor sponsored by The House On The Rock church, teaches both kids devoid of religion. For them, in the grand scheme of survival, it doesn’t matter where a person is from. When the bane of your survival is glued to a community, sticking together is the only option. A person’s religion, tribe and ethnicity isn’t the first thing you look out for. You look out for each other because it’s all you’ve got. That’s the force that keeps them going.
One afternoon will not be enough to make everything in little Ashe’s life simple and full of good food but, it might leave an impression. It could be the day a good memory was made; a day to dance on the sands she calls home and that’s enough for a day. We can all start with a day. One day at a time to look out for each other.
This outreach was made possible by the numerous donations from around the world to Bottom Pot. During this COVID season, Bottom pot has fed over 800 children scattered across slums in Lagos. The goal is to feed over 5000 children and with your help, it is possible. Join the movement and let’s make kindness viral. Call +2438141271922 for more information.
