A Night on the Street in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - part 4

"epraim's house ... and hope"
ethiopia journal - feb 19 part 4

As we left the first group, one of the guys who was following us earlier got up and followed us again but he soon gave up interest. However, we did attract the attention of another man who happily followed us. After walking a couple of miles through the streets, we arrived at Ephraim’s living place. (I call it a living place because if I called it a house everyone reading this would have some preconceived idea about what it looked like. And your idea would be much bigger and more spacious that this place.) No one followed us as we entered Ephraim’s “house.” As we entered we woke up his sister who already thought we were crazy.

Ephraim asked if the boys were hungry – they all said they had not eaten since the morning – leftovers from a restaurant. Ephraim got out a big bowl of leftover pourage – something like oatmeal. He set it on the table with three spoons. At that moment, another amazing thing happened. None of the boys began eating and one of the boys offered the bowl to Andrew and I. I can’t describe the feelings I had. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to me. It amazed me that they were able to place us in front of their hunger – it was priceless. We quickly refused and the boys began to dig in. They all ate quietly and we asked on of them how long he had been on the streets and what happened to his parents. He told us (through Ephraim’s translation) that he grew up in the countryside. He said his mom died when he was about 5 years old and he decided he needed to go to the city, so he began walking to the city. Just listening to him was hard to take – as Ephraim translated his words I couldn’t help but cry. I simply can’t fathom the thought process of a five year old deciding to travel to a city of 5 million people to live on the streets. My thoughts went to my own son Jacob and the fact that I can’t imagine him having to make any kind of decision like that. My stomach ached for this boy. He never mentioned his dad and we didn’t ask. There was already enough sadness in the room.

I am trying again to describe a feeling that I have no words for – surreal or “real/unreal” is maybe the best. Everything in my mind says that there is no way that this happens in this world… there is no way that 5 year-old boys make those kind of decisions… there is no way that 3 boys band together to survive in a city of 5 million people… there is no way that the boys are eating at a strangers house at 1:00 am and no one cares that they aren’t at home… no one is calling for them, searching for them or wondering where they are. It has to be an unreal dream… a nightmare… NOT REALITY! And yet I know that I am alive and awake and experiencing this REALITY. I can smell the boys. I can hear the rattle of their spoons against the tin bowl. I can see their black skin with an ash white covering because it is dried out. I can see their eyes and hear their voices. I know that they are real boys… with real feelings… with real hunger… with real need… with real pain… AND with real LOVE for each other.

Half way through eating I could tell that one of the boys didn’t look good at all. I asked Ephraim to ask about him. The other boys said that he had a sore throat and a fever and hasn’t been feeling well all day. For whatever reason I hadn’t noticed other than the fact that he was the one who fell asleep earlier. I was amazed at the care the other two boys had for this boy. Ephraim gave him some Tylenol.

(By the way, Ephraim’s house is a 12X12 room with a small bench that the boys sat on, a small table that they ate off of, a large cabinet, a small fridge, a bookshelf and a very narrow bed. A ladder goes straight up to another room the same size. Very humble yet livable.)

The sick boy took the medicine and they all drank a lot of water. Quickly the sick boy quit eating and the tallest boy put his arm around him and began to make him eat a little bit more by feeding him. He did this over and over until the boy fell asleep sitting up. When he fell asleep the tallest boy propped the boys head up with his arm so that his head wouldn’t fall over and wake himself up.

We asked the other boy (the one who left home at 5) if he thought he would be on the street his whole life. He quickly answered Ephraim and Ephraim told us he said “no – that he did have some hope. Hope that one day he could get some help from a NGO (non-government organization) and this would get him a home and some education.” Again it is amazing that hope endures in this boy. But you could see it in his eyes and all over his face (he is the boy on the right in the picture of “displacement 2”). He really did have hope and a smile –simply amazing!