Sticky Fingers

There are children everywhere in Kisenyi, but usually they’re scared of me and hesitantly curious, never wanting to get too close. But today, in a rather dodgy area of Kisenyi II, a 2 year old little guy spotted me in a store where we were doing a survey. He yelled out, “Mama! Mama, mzungu!!!” And from then on I was his property. He would let no other kid touch me, screaming at them when they got close. Under the beating sun, his sticky, sandy hand grasped tightly onto mine. He laid his sweaty cheek against my hand, his face covered in varying degrees of dried snot. My heart melted, I couldn’t help it. I guess its not made out of stone after all.