They roam the streets at night. During the day you see them at stoplights with sad faces and arms outstretched. Sometimes you see them grouped in a shop buying sweets or huddled around an arcade game. If you meet them on the streets you give them the right of way, they own the streets after all. Even just looking at them, you instantly sense the fact that they know what they’re doing and you do not. Later on in the dead of night they’ll be curled up in the orange glow of a streetlight trying to sleep.
Who are they? They are the lost boys of Maputo, Mozambique and I have fallen in love with them.
This month my team is working and living with an amazing organization called Masana. With all the rebellion and deception street boys believe in, it is a much more complicated process to try to get them to return to their homes. Most of them are actually not orphans and have chosen this lifestyle. Masana is loving and patient with them though and committed to seeing their lives change. The boys hear about Masana house by word of mouth and about 30 of them show up regularly Monday-Thursday around 7am. (Because they sleep on the street and wake up with the sun.) They have breakfast & lunch and are taught some basic math and Portuguese lessons by the awesome staff that lives here. The boys are discipled by awesome men of God and there is also time to just play, sit and talk with them during the day. 2 o’clock is now the saddest time of day for me as I hug them goodbye and watch them choose to head back out onto the streets for the night. There is a lot of joy here though. It’s awesome watching the boys laugh and play and opening their minds to a life outside of the streets. Many boys have successfully returned home and are now thriving there. There are also more in the process of returning home right now. With God’s help, these lost boys will find themselves.
Most of these boys have run away from home and are living the supposed high life. They would have you believe that they are tough and independent, and in some ways they are. If you have anything stolen, they can find out who stole it and tell you where to go to get it back in 30 minutes. They are also the ones stealing it most times. They are 11 years old but they can pick me up in a bear hug. They are strong and they have to be; it’s survival of the fittest on the streets. They choose to come to Maputo, seeking independence and money, and they think they have found it on the streets. I see their freedom differently than they do however.
What they see as being rich young men, I see as kids blowing money they’ve earned begging on candy and video games.
What they see as freedom and being an adult, I see as children getting STD’s, becoming addicted to drugs and alcohol, getting into fights and moving to different places to sleep at night so they don’t become prey to others.
What they see as filling a sexual need, I see as stronger boys raping weaker boys until the weak ones become strong enough to return the favor.
The streets have made them hard and tries to turn them into adults but I can’t get past their 9-17 year-old faces. When they smile, I forget about the crude jokes they make in a language I don’t understand. I forget what they may have done last night or how many times my chest has been sneakily touched. When they smile, they melt from the tough, small men they think they are to the young boys I see them as.
One of the most beautiful experiences we’ve had at Masana so far was taking the boys to the beach to celebrate Children’s Day a week and a half ago. That day, over 30 lost boys became just boys again. They played soccer, jumped waves, and threw each other in the pool. The hardness on their faces melted and they smiled and laughed.
They may run the streets at night, but I get to love on them during the day.
