Not fiction. Not fiction; the routine and fictional post will proceed on the next post.
But this morning I awoke and first recalled what happened yesterday:
On a professional engagement, I met a man yesterday; a tall, slender, and dark gentleman, who’d a back-pack and a notebook. In the course of our interaction, I heard him talk to a colleague of his for long on phone (that I had to excuse myself awhile from time to time), about buying stationery for some kids somewhere, as pupils would need during an examination; and provisions as of lunch and drinks.
When our interaction ended, he gave me his card, which revealed more about his person, and I presently understood and appreciated the nature of his occupation. The man works at Kawangware Education Center, whose motto speaks: A school and safe haven for orphans in Kenya. Having been a partial orphan myself, and felt what orphans might experience, I remain beholden to all persons, of what age, of what race; of what tribe, of what religion; who, in their generous and compassionate hearts, brighten the faces and raise the hopes of orphans.
Here I say, as the man said, the Center educates and feeds, and shelters for the day—for free, about 200 orphans who report at the Center every day. The Center relies on donor funding and individual donations of whatever nature (like cloths and shoes and books and goodwill), to meet its obligations to the beautiful children. This encounter got me thinking about this children’s song, and I have sang and played it ten times this morning:
The Center may be contacted through the contacts displayed on the Contact Us Page, as is indicated on its website.
#Thank you for reading.
Yours, Taifa Mkenya.
[Breaker of English. Creator of words. Attempter of waggish things. Marveler of nature. Enjoyer of life. Lover of strangers. Taster of cultures. Author of Tom James. Editor. Snap-shooter. Storyteller. Future husband. Teacher. Learner. Soon a traveler]