Kids in the red dust

I took the shot before I got to them because I liked the way- the care free way, they ran along the unpaved village path, on their way to the bore hole, to fetch water for their parents.

My little sister was amused at the kind of pictures I loved to take, like the ones of a dilapidated shrine I had taken not long ago, like this one. But I told her she wouldn't understand.

And we rode on.

When we got to the kids , I pulled over and asked them " kids, how do I get to the parish house?"

I had been looking for an easy way to get there, to deliver a parcel to the priest. Mother wanted to give the priest a welcome present, like everyone else was doing. So, she had asked me to help her deliver the bottle of red oil, on my way to enugu.

My little sister was surprised and asked why I had chosen to ask the kids for directions when we could have just asked some adults who were sitting close by.

But, I  already loved the kids. I already loved their plain innocence. That's what my sister didn't know.

The kids looked on for a while, first at me and then, at my dust coated car. Their eyes were bright, twinkling with questions or should I say admiration. They giggled.

The tallest amongst them, whom I also thought was the eldest yet, still a kid himself, smiled and instead of answering my question, asked "how do I become a doctor like you when I grow up so that I can hang that thing in front of my car, too?" He became shy and covered his face using his palms.

Really?

I was taken aback. I  didn't know what to say.  Yet, their eyes begged for answers and I couldn't just ignore them. So, I said "You have to read your books everyday. Obey your parents and God. Pay attention in class. But, remember, you must read you books......"

They looked on, attentively.

Then, the small one asked "that is all it takes?" nodding thoughtfully, before turning to his brothers "then, it is very easy to become a doctor then, okwa?"

They all nodded in unison. But, they were silent for a while, their eyes focused on the Litman's stethoscope, hanging in my car.

I  wondered what they were thinking.

But, I was running out of time; Enugu Onitsha express way is not a good road to ply in the dark. Yet, I had to wait for the kids to finish their thinking. I  loved their facial expressions.

After a while, I asked my initial question once more and then, startled back to reality, they pointed me to the easiest route to the parish house. "Go through the back of the church."

I  got back in the car, almost in tears. But, it was tears of joy.

Those kids, living in the village, in poorly built mud houses, with poor parents who almost wouldn't be able to train them, full of hope, dreams and optimism, gave me a reason to be happy at that moment.

And there were facts to back up their hope.

Almost every big shot in the town of Ukehe, came from that same red dust. Father never stopped telling me such stories since I was in kindergarten.

That has been our way. From dust to greatness.

I  drove away, almost certain that those kids weren't going to fizzle away. There were strong flickers of light, in their eyes.