Homevisit of Ssebunwagi Marvin and his family

Volunteers Maria and Kristina visited Marvin who is a student in top class. He lives just a couple hundred meters from Twinlight Children’s Centre school together with his aunt and her children. Read the volunteers story about the visit below.

A small girl with purple cotton dress is standing in the door. She gives me the biggest smile possible, while she is holding the piece of paper in front of her. I bow down to see; a collage with pictures of celebrities. Besides her, on the dirt floor, sits her mother. Outside, under the roof of the kitchen hut, stands a boy. Another boy is leaning his weight towards the wall. Slightly confused, shy. With the tumb in his mouth, dirty uniform and muddy shoes.

I have seen him before, in another setting. I have seen him at school, playing. His name is Ssebunwagi Marvin and the story is the same as for so many other children; his parents are both dead and he is an orphan. Two of his siblings are living with other relatives, the last one is dead. Still, he is lucky – for someone to take care of him, for the opportunity to get an education.

Right nearby the school, in a house of less than ten square meters – and most possible less than your bedroom – he is living with his aunt and her two children. The house contains one room, a combined living room, bedroom and eating room. In addition there is a kitchen hut used for cooking. During day, the mattresses are placed up against the floor – the space is needed for eating. And like many other inhabitants of the village, the aunt cultivates the most substantial food herself.  At this moment it is pouring rain, we are six people visiting, but there is no room to go inside.

With the rain pouring around us, the aunt is repeating how grateful she is; how grateful for that the two boys can finally go to school. Next year the little girl will also be a part of Twinlight Children’s Centre, but for now she is still too young and far too busy with celebrities. I ask her if she is looking forward to go to school, well knowing that she is too little to understand what I say. The English will have to wait – until next year, when she will also be part of the playing children in baby class. And with the rain still pouring around me and a wet notebook, I leave the three children behind, waving a last time before we go.