STRANGE NAMES

“Will I ever know how it feels to be loved? I have never known how it feels to be a family! I grew up in the streets! Never known my mother, I wasn’t told my father, only strangers all around, calling me names I don’t like!”

Those are words in the first para of a song “Street Kid” by Oliver Tuku Mutukudzi, one of the most innovative African musician from Zimbabwe.

Oliver talks about the lost communal composition of the African nationalities in the townships and cities. The cultural fusion between rural, urban and foreign has resulted into flames of fire in all sectors of our lives.

There are classes of people and Street Children belong to one of it. In the past, the African society used to have stable clan networks which were the basis of cultural organization.

Everybody as an individual had a direct link to the rural mystic energy and ritual practices, today the township community acts as a kind of no-man’s land where different people, languages and customs are melted into something new.

Children grow up in the streets and they hard get to know their parents. They only meet strangers who call them names, different names, and strange names!

Pay a visit to Arusha for instance, The Eden of Africa. Its main bust station has become a home for many homeless children. Strangers from all walks of life, take it for granted and call them names like Chokoraa, Chalii, Homeless or Street kids and many more!

This clan, made of children with no ancestral connection, no provision of education, only surviving the hard way, is growing without notice almost everywhere in the country and beyond.

What and how do each of us do to help the children survive and thrive, get them to school and provide them with a protective environment? I pose the questions  as a reminder to everyone in the community to start or persist doing something for the better of this group instead of just calling them strange names they don’t like or even know! END! 

The deceiving power of advertisement, at the Arusha main bus station, 

“Maisha ni Kufurahi” against the desperate unprotected Chalii on the ground, far from being happy.

The streets are home and wild at the same time. A Chalii with a bell 

stabbed with a nife by a rival friend.

Not always easy out here, no breakfast, lunch and sometimes dinner, 

leaves you very thoughtful!

Without knowing who used the blade a Chalii picked it for 

his convenience.

Once or twice a week we go down the stream to bath and wash our 

clothes but we wait until they dry and dress them immediately.

When night falls, the Chalii hang around and make fun 

before they find a place to squeeze for a night long sleep.

This is our life style and we are as happy as anybody else. We enjoy it.