Steam lifted off the sufurias before the queue was halfway through. By mid-morning at ETCO, metal spoons clinked against plates and someone laughed too loud — the kind of laugh that means relief, not a joke.
This was another Saturday feeding: over 350 children lined up with elders and a handful of youth, everyone holding a plate or a cup as if it were a small flag. New interns moved between tables, learning names, passing chapati, getting schooled by kids who know the drill better than anyone.
School fees and rent still bite. Hunger still arrives on Tuesday when Saturday feels far away. But on days like this, the room smells of stew and soap, and the noise is a kind of proof — that people showed up, that someone cooked, that a child ate until the belly went round.
Bring ugali flour on a Saturday, or come early to help chop vegetables — the interns will show you where the knives live.
