Restless/ Unrest
During the post election ethnic riots in Kisumu Kenya, Sister Philomena wouldn’t let the children of St. Clare’s orphanage outside. She was afraid a Kibaki’s police would kill them. The children had plenty of time to think. Their lives are hardly ideal, but they want to be engineers, doctors and teachers and pilots.
Months later I was at the orphanage for six weeks, and time after time I saw the juxtaposition between the children’s most freeing moments and their most bored. Slices of their environment tell of a general restlessness. The boys are mostly pensive and graceful; the girls strong and bold like the housemothers that are raising them. They all seem to be waiting to grow up so they can carry on with life.
The dichotomy between freedom and boredom fascinates me because it mimics a trait that I see in my peers at home. They too seem to be waiting to grow up and have freedom even though they are for the most part in their mid-twenties.
