Friday, May 10, 2013

Street children prayer requests, Fred and HenryHenry





Fred in the programs



Fred
Fred Natovu
 Fred is a small boy. He says his age is ten but he looks to be maybe seven at the most. What he lacks in size he makes up with spiritedness. He seems to hold his own fairly well with the other boys at program although he is definitely smaller then them all. This is part of his story.



My mother's name is Coleen. I have never known my father. I came to the streets of Kampala sometime in April and I have been living on them for a month now. I ran away from home because of my mother. She used to beat me and sometimes deny me food. When I left my home in Waskiso and started traveling to Kampala I was helped by a man. He was on a boda boda and he let me ride with him to Kampala. My plan was to visit my uncle. He lives in Kampala. The problem was that when I got to his house it was locked and no one was there. The neighbours told me that my uncle was in prison but they didn't tell me why. I didn't know anyone in Kampala other than my uncle. I came to the streets because I have nowhere else to go. I do not want to go home. Life on the streets is not good. It is hard to get things to eat. I don't have clothes like I did at home. I sleep on the ground with other boys and sometimes we get chased away from where we are sleeping at night.  When this happens we have to walk in the dark to find another place to sleep.



Please pray for me. I want to go back to school. I also want to have a safe place where I can live and be happy.

Before he came to the streets Fred reached primary 3 in school. When he grows up he dreams to become a teacher. He explained that teachers teach people new things and help them become what they dream of through education. 
Henry

Kiyemba Henry



Henry says he is 12 years old. He has started coming to program in this last month. He cut his foot and heard about the clinic through a friend. Since getting treatment there he has been coming often to the street programs. He is a friendly and engaging boy with a quick smile. This is part of his story.



I have no interest in remembering my parents names. They are both living. My father is living with my step mother. My mother lives in Kampala. I was living with my father and stepmother. We used to live in an area of Kampala called Karerwe. My father decided to move from the city to the village. The village we moved to was called Kiti. When we moved there I lived with my family for three months but all this time I did not go to school. In the morning I would do my chores but then after that I would have nothing to do. I was bored so I would walk around and often go to visit my aunt who lived not too far away. When I came back home I often found I had missed meal time. My family never kept any food for me.  I would ask why they didn't leave anything for me but they would never reply to me. Instead they would tell me to get water. Sometimes I had to fetch water three times a day. often my family only ate one time a day so it was not a good situation for me. I was hungry so I would looked for jackfruit in the bushes.  My father and my stepmother sometimes threatened to send me to Kampiringisa because I was stubborn.  One day I was out with some friends. I stayed out too late and when I came back I found that my house was locked and my family was all asleep. I was afraid to wake them up since I knew they would be very upset with me. So instead I made a makeshift bed using a sack and string. I hung it in a big tree near our house. In the morning my father was very angry with me. He beat me with a stick that also had wire on it. He also hit my foot very hard. My foot was hurting me a lot and it took some time to heal. I waited some time after this at my home but things were not getting any better. I decided to come back to Kampala. My mother lives in Kampala, although I do not often see her. When I came to her house she was angry at me for coming to her and told me that I needed to go back to my father. She refused to let me stay with her. I did not want to go back to my father's house so I stayed on the streets. I found a plastic container and started fetching water to make some money. Slowly I learned more things about street life and how to survive. I met a boy named Big who brought me to Kivulu.  I did not like Kivulu though so I did not stay there. I have been on the streets of three years now.  Right now I sleep in Wandegerya in front of a restaurant called  Chicken Tonight.



Please Pray for me. I have an injured foot right now. I would like prayer for healing. I would also like prayer for an opportunity to go back to school.