THE CRY OF THE STREET CHILD.

Have you ever tried to put yourself into the shoes of a street kids?

Have you ever seen an ideal street kid and stare at him for sometimes?

Have you ever asked yourself why that kid is living on the street?

Having been troubled by this questions on my mind I tried to thematically put myself into the same shoes of Street kids.

and this is how it feel like to be a street kid.

THE CRY OF THE STREET CHILD.

Make me feel like I was born by fault, thrown to the bin but manage to survive the nasty environmental factors. Raised in orphanage and at the age of four find myself on the street responsible for my food, clothes and shelter. facing the tough world alone without a father or mother, term I knew exist, I never knew my name so they gave me the name “street child” yes indeed I am street child for I live on the street I know no other place I should call home than a street. How I longed to be at “home” a word I never knew exist.

Thrown to the dustbin and still force to go back to the litterbin to collect food for I know no other kitchen than the rubbish bin the only assets I have got.

They say I am nothing but a dangerous thug loitering the street to steal and rob thus they try to circumvent me at all cost hence, rendering me helpless, hopeless and hapless. Who can save me from this my state of despondent and downcast? 

Yet when I try to get adapted to this life and try to survive by my own way you start headlining and call me with all sorts of name and even condemn me to death now mister judge where were you when I almost got rotten and starved to death?

Strolling on the street like a litter, tiring rack like a Stone Age man in this modern era. thrown out from the shelter in the cool winter with no blanket to cover me. Sleeping in the old ruined building with my belly facing the sky and my entire bones expose, one would even say I am a living skeleton. Of what different have I with the mongrel?

And there you are going around fantasizing your charitability, hurling your millions gift to those who are already well off when you always arrogantly drive your car on my sight and would even bargain for the price of polishing your shoes, now tell me where is that generous heart to the one who gravely need your assistance.

It shudder me when I see people wrapping their noses and face different direction for no one would want to smell or see my filthy self. Make me feel like excrement. I need pity but no one pay attention to my presence, standing for long hours next to people whom I could think would help but they made me believe that I am an imperceptible for; their action shows no Signal of any detectable being. 

Tell me I am not a human being and show me where I belong for I don’t feel like I am a human anymore.

Tell me where my right is when you have included in your constitution the so called “human right” or am I the only human who has no right to associate with people? Haven’t I any right to eat decent food just like others? Or you think I don’t need to sleep on the clean bed? Haven’t I the right to go to school? Every morning I see your kids dressed up in nice school uniform and happily run toward their school van as I hungrily run toward the garbage site to check on previous night orts. Make me believe that I was born by accident and that I have no right to live on earth then show me where I belong and I will happily and majestically accept it without any query for you make me believe as true that I doesn’t fit here.

As you comfortably sleep tonight I want you to think about this.

Go on street tomorrow wherever you are and try to observe how it feel like to be a street kid.

You may be comfortably sleeping on your bed tonight but know that somewhere someone doesn't even know the word bed exist.

Somewhere someone is sleeping with an empty belly and not more than 2 miles away from you someone is lonely, hopeless and hapless.

It is the duty of very human being to show sympathy and love to these kids.