M can hardly sleep the night before her Reading and Writing Cafe, drags me into her classroom by the hand, serves me mandazis and marshmallows. We sit outside on a red Masai blanket while she reads aloud to me, doesn’t want me to leave.
P strings beads together, names them Larry and Barry. Writes on the walls with a green marker, her name over and over, proving she is here.
At night M cries about having no friends, no one to play with at recess. She says it’s so hard not having one loyal friend. I leave the room and cry too.
There are slugs everywhere, on the door knobs, in shoes. Today i step into one in my shoe, cold and wet against my toes.
When we go to the playground P’s bike is a horse, she never stops moving.
The girls have built a Playmobil hospital in the corner. Four Valuetales books stacked into a high rise with wooden columns. Their hospital is beautiful and colourful, flowers everywhere.
J wants to help with supper, is hurt and betrayed when there is no work for her to do. She wants to carry hot pots, heavy bowls. I hinder her helping.