Toys

She pulled an old shampoo bottle from her box. Two small sticks had been drilled through the front and back. Four bottle caps were attached to the sticks making tires. Another “truck” was made with an old pill box. “These are the toys the children made. They have to make their own.” She returned the two “trucks” to the bottom of the box which was a hand drawn checker board.

I met her by chance in a store and we ended up having tea and coffee together. Although she was the Brit and I was the American she had the coffee and I had the tea. A grandmother, who looked as if she could have just graduated from university, she stumbled on a Kenyan orphanage during a trip and it was a life-changing moment.

Now her entire life is spent providing for the 100+ kids, former street children whose parents died of AIDS. She doesn’t want much, clothes, games, books. And toilets. There aren’t any and they orphanage may have to close if they can’t get more sanitary conditions.

Later in the day I was back in the same tea room and a five-year old was brought in. While his mother and aunt had tea, they tried to keep him amused with toy after toy they carried with them. “I have nothing to play with,” he complained. “I want to go shopping,” he whined.

I wanted to show him the shampoo bottle.