Friday morning was an important morning for the Zamfam. We finally got to meet some of our local partners, most of which we will be placed for our academic internship. Following an early wake-up call, a hearty breakfast and a much needed Zambian coffee, we were off to Bwafano Community Centre. The two main languages in Zambia are Nyanja, mostly spoken in our area, and Pemba, rather common in the southern provinces. In Pemba, Bwafano means ‘helping’, a perfect word to describe the organisation.
Our route to Bwafano followed snaky paths past small and congested homes, filled with mass crowds of children screaming “how are you!” or “muzungu!”. Most only know how to say ‘How are you’ yet don’t know how to answer. Instead of answering I just started to repeat the question or reply in Nyanja throwing most of them into fits of giggles. Adults along the way more than appreciated our attempts to greet them in Nyanja, though some just laughed at our obvious failure to speak their language.
Just before Bwafano, there is this sizeable sandy soccer field that we came across for the first time today. Its immensity was one thing, but the heaps of children running after ONE ball was a sight beyond what I’ve ever seen. I watched them for a whole minute while they all chased this soccer ball intently around the field, until the first child to spot us screamed “MUZUNGU!”. The way those kids were playing, I was sure nothing could disturb their focus and intent. Apparently, a group of muzungus does the trick. One minute they are 100m away from us, the next we are being swarmed by these beautiful smiling children who just want to use the little english they know and shake our hands. Since its winter here in Zambia, and most of the kids are running free infected with snotty colds we’ve learnt quickly the best way to entertain them is to fist pump. Even better, we’ve started teaching them the explosion at the end of a solid fist pump. The explosion causes such hysteria among the children, it entertains us as much as them. I've never experienced anything like it. We learnt later that those hundreds and hundreds (nearly a thousand I believe) of children running around in that field were all part of the OVC program at Bwafano. OVC stands for Orphan and Vulnerable Children. In only one district, there are 7,000 OVCs registered at Bwafano. Note those are the ones who are registered, there are so many more. While most of these children have lost their families or have been through thing you and I will most likely never experience, I've never seen such pure happiness.
Finally, after swimming through the crowds of children we arrived at Bwafano to attend our meetings. I could tell you about the different departments we met with, but I think that is enough for today. More next time.
What do you called an "asian person or squinty eyes person" in Nyanja?
ReplyDeletePS. Everytime I do my fist pumping I'll think of you..
Thanks, Lydia. You're saving me the cost of travelling to Africa.
ReplyDeleteDo you know if the kids prefer to play with one ball, or if they only have one ball? And I wonder if when you say children, you mean boys and girls? And what ages?
Pops, to answer your question, regarding that specific game, I do believe that may have been the only ball. The kids ranged from probably four to 12 and they were all part of the OVC program (Orphan and vulnerable children program at Bwafwano Community Centre.. one of our partners). Both boys and girls were incredibly engaged in the game! At that age, I see most of them playing together. It is only once they hit puberty where I've noticed they tend to separate.
ReplyDeleteXO