Opening Day
The children on their first day of school wore excitement and joy on their faces. Even the most lively, restless kids sat properly with their arms on the long tables and their backs ramrod straight, gazing silently at their new teacher.
On the one hand, they could learn things here—at the very least, they could read books and recognize words. On the other, they could get a filling lunch.
Many elementary schools in Somalia provided students with lunch. After all, many families struggled to make ends meet and often couldn't manage even one meal a day. Many children went to school just to get something to eat. During long holidays, some even starved to death.
Staying at school was also relatively safe. They wouldn't be exposed to the many dark sides of society, bullied, or struck by some unforeseen disaster. In this lawless country, growing up healthy was already a tremendous stroke of luck. Many children died for one reason or another before they even reached adulthood.
School was heaven on earth. That was the shared conviction of every child in Somalia.
On the school's opening day, all the children came to enroll of their own accord, without any urging from Li Bai or the town chief. Some had come from tribes more than ten kilometers away.
It was hard to imagine how they had braved the downpour, trudging through mud and puddles, one moment sinking deep and the next barely lifting their feet, all the way here to attend school.
Naturally, the school wouldn't turn any of them away. As long as they were the right age, the doors were wide open to them.
The school building had plenty of room inside. Even with eighty or a hundred people seated, it was still spacious, with no crowding