Every Tuesday afternoon, we go to Fountain Boarding and Primary School, a local school for kids aged 6 to 14. As soon as our van pulls up to the school, it’s like a bunch of preteen girls who’ve seen Justin Bieber’s limousine. The monos (white people) have arrived, and the children are more than excited. When we step out of the van, we’re instantly mobbed, especially my 3 male teammates and me. Shouts of “Pick me up!” are heard as they pull and climb on us. I now fully know what it is like to be an African jungle gym. Despite the craziness, being able to show love to these kids, even by performing an act as simple as picking up one of them, is such an awesome opportunity to have. Even though their shouts and pulls can be a bit overbearing (and slightly annoying, if I’m to be truly honest) at times, their acts are truly motivated by just the simple desire to be loved.
Last Tuesday, I met Solomon, a boy around the age of 7 or 8. He at first was just one of many children treating me like a jungle gym and demanding to be carried. But as the crowd settled, he remained. And for the rest of the time, he simply took my hand and escorted me all around the school. He showed me his bedroom, a large room crammed with triple-bed bunk beds; he showed me his classroom, being sure to point out his drawing which was posted on the wall; he even introduced me to his father, who was talking to the headmaster. The demeanor he held as he gave me the tour was incredible. There was nothing special about what he showed me, not his bedroom that he shared with at least 30 other boys, nor his classroom that had concrete floors, wooden desks and one simple chalkboard, but he showed everything to me with such joy and pride. He eagerly pulled on my hand to lead me to each place. Even more astounding to me was that he didn’t even know me. He had just met me, but he was eager to invite me into his life and show me every part of it. I am confident that the simple joy and love of a child will never cease to amaze me.
