Deliberately or not, Ian threw us in at the deep end. We’d conveniently arrived the week of the re-opening of Kimbilio’s day centre, so at 5am (yes, apparently it does exist) we found ourselves covertly wandering Kenya Market, trying to find local street children before they rose at sunrise & dissolved into the market’s daily bustle. Under the moonlight the shadows & eerie silence were a little unnerving, a few people shuffled about, well wrapped up from the chill; whilst several huddled around fires burning the previous day’s rubbish. Inhaling the smoke felt toxic & the ambiance as a whole was slightly uncomfortable. It’s hard to believe that these rows of semi-sheltered stalls were home to children half our ages, although promisingly we only found a couple of young boys asleep under a rickety stand – so perhaps the numbers of street children had fallen since Kimbilio’s last sortie. We invited them for the following day to Kimbilio, & at the mention of breakfast, footy & lunch, more children, all boys, began to appear from the shadows. As the sun rose, early morning traders began to filter in as if in a well-rehearsed play; our time to leave. The following day, 36 Chegues were excitably waiting at the cathedral gates.