Twenty-Seven Boys Chose a Different Path, Kwetu Home of Peace
On the 29th of January, we welcomed twenty-seven boys into our programme at Madaraka. This is what that day looked like and what it took to get there.
We want to be honest about something. The morning of 29th January did not feel like a celebration. It felt like responsibility.
Twenty-seven boys, aged between eight and fourteen, arrived at our Madaraka Centre. Some came quietly. Some were visibly unsettled. A few had that particular look we have come to recognise over the years – part relief, part wariness of a child who wants to trust but has not yet decided if it is safe to do so.
We have been doing this work since 1993. We know that welcoming a child in is only the beginning, and that the beginning is often the most delicate part.
The work that led to January 29th started long before January 29th.
Our social worker had been visiting these boys on the streets over a sustained period. Not once. Not twice. Week after week, building familiarity, answering questions, listening more than talking. He has spent years cultivating relationships with local police officers too, which matters more than people might expect. When a child is ready to come in, the process involves formal registration at the nearest police station every child receives an OB number, a legal record that says: this child exists, this case is documented, someone is accountable. It is not glamorous work, but it is necessary, and she does it with a consistency that makes the whole process possible.
Getting twenty-seven boys to agree to come in on the same morning is not a small thing. Each of them had to decide, individually, that this was worth trying.
“I have stayed for three days without showering. I am glad I have a place to even sleep out of the streets.”
One of the boys said that shortly after he arrived. He wasn’t performing. He wasn’t trying to move anyone. He was just stating a fact, and in that fact, telling us everything we needed to hear about what these children’s lives looked like before they walked through our doors.
Others expressed something similar in their own ways. Gratitude for a bed. For a bathroom. For bedding that was waiting for them. These are things that are easy to take for granted, and we do not take lightly the moment when a child encounters them, sometimes for the first time in a very long time, and understands that someone has prepared this space with them in mind.
The day itself was not without difficulty. A room full of children’s officers, board members, partners, and volunteers is an unfamiliar environment for a boy who has spent months or years navigating the streets on his own terms. Structure, for a child used to an entirely unstructured life, does not always feel like safety at first. It can feel like pressure. Like surveillance. Like something to push back against.
Some of the boys were not at ease during the process, and we did not pretend otherwise. Our team is trained to read that, to give space without withdrawing presence, to allow a child to feel what they feel without making it a problem. This is part of the work too.
Of the twenty-seven who came in that day, three have since relapsed. We share that figure not to diminish what happened, but because we think our supporters deserve honesty. Moving from an unstructured life to a structured one is genuinely hard. Three percent is not a failure rate. It is a reality rate, and for those three boys, our door remains open and our relationship with them continues.
The twenty-four who remain are now in rehabilitation at Madaraka. The days ahead will involve informal learning, psychosocial support, and the slow work of helping each child reconnect with who they are beyond the streets. We will also be working to locate their families — because our goal has never been to keep children at Kwetu. It is to return them home, and to make sure home is ready to receive them.
Twenty-seven boys chose to begin on the 29th of January. That choice did not happen by accident. It happened because our social worker kept showing up. Because our team prepared a space that was worthy of them. Because thirty years of this work has taught us that the most important thing we can offer a child is not a bed or a meal or even an education – it is the consistent, unhurried message that they are worth coming back for. We will keep coming back.
In line with our child protection policy, no children are identified by name in this article. Direct quotes are shared with the full knowledge and support of our team. We are grateful to our board members, partners, and volunteers who were present on the 29th and whose support makes this work possible.
If you would like to support more boys like the twenty-seven we welcomed in January, you can donate at kwetuhome.org/donate