Shumi (left) holding what looks like a sucker, but is actually a broken piece of someone's discarded toy |
I met Shumi in August, just a couple of weeks after moving to Dhaka. We met when I shared some crackers with her while I was out grocery shopping with Mom and Dad. She was running around the north entrance to our neighborhood, where there are train tracks flanked by cardboard and cloth shacks and cooking fires made from rubbish and tree clippings.
Sometimes we walk around with biscuits or a shirt, or even a pair of shoes and hope we'll run into her, but it's hard to know when we'll see her. Once, we sat in her hut and played games, but the next time we tried to visit, the huts had been torn down by the police. Now they're back, but each time that the police kick all those people out, they come back with different color sheets and have to set up in a different place. So, now I don't know where Shumi's house is.
Somehow, though, Shumi knows how to get around, and she often finds us when we are outside. Last time I ran into her, she had a friend with her and we played for about half an hour. She even went and picked me a guava from a tree, but I just thought it was a fun, green ball!
I really like to see Shumi, but don't know if I should give her money or give her snacks or be asking her to come and sleep in the extra bed in my room. She has a mom, so I probably can't do that. One of the times I shared some money with her, she ran up to me about ten minutes later with tears on her face. She tried to dry them off, but I asked about them and she said someone had taken the money she was holding.
I so wish she had a home with an air conditioner and a stove and a bed like me. Why doesn't every kid have those things? Why doesn't she have a mom who makes sure she goes to school and a dad who says that if she needs a uniform for school, he'll make sure she gets it? I'm guessing it's because their moms and dads didn't do those things. I wish I knew how to help her.
crying...
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