Kizungu (Rwandese intermezzo)

Today’s story comes from Rwanda; however I believe it fits into this blog as unfortunately it reflects the situation of many children in the whole of Africa and the whole world.

Today, while visiting the village of Muhororo in the South of the country, we also came across a small “orphanage”, in which about 15 children live crammed into only one room and in conditions of extreme poverty. As soon as they see me, the little ones run towards me, take my hands, get their little arms around my legs. It’s incredibly moving.

Maybe, by seeing me, the “muzungu” (or white person) they are reminded of the French nun that used to loive and work here until not so long ago. Or maybe they are so desparately in need of someone to look at them, smile at them, play with them, so that everyone who gets near them is a friend…

Among them there is a tiny kid whom everyone around immediately starts laughingly calling “kizungu”(or little “mzungu”), because he got hold of my hand as soon as he saw me and didn’t let go for one minute.

They tell me he’s six, while because of his body and height I would have given him maybe 2 and a half years. He only wears a very old and dirty t-shirt and his tiny legs seem almost unable to sustain the weight of his body. He has enormous eyes that speak of unbelievable suffering, but also of a hope that is hard to kill.

I can only think that there is absolutely no reason why someone like “kizungu” should live in these conditions nowadays and shouldn’t have the opportunities and chances other kids have. No reason. And we all have part in the responsibility to do something in order to have “kizungu” and everyone like him really believe in a better future.