Maama Wange?

This morning was hot, and inescapably sunny. I was walking alone down the dusty dirt path that leads to UVP's office. Next door to UVP is a small building called 'Happy Hours Nursery School'. As I passed by, I saw a child about 4 years old, standing next to the road in tattered clothing that had all turned rust colored from being coated with dirt for so long. Chants of children in the school sounded like a high pitched song, but this child was clearly too poor to be a student, and was just outside listening from his post by the road. As I passed by, he held out his hand to me and said in a small polite voice: "Mzungu... oli maama wange?"

I was reminded of the story of the ugly duckling that wanders around the pond, querying everyone it meets because it has lost its family. The child's question meant, "You are my mother?"

I don't think I could make up something sadder if I tried.