“Can’t I give myself a name?”

Chali's second day at school with Biivuma's son.

The bus makes a number of stops before it reaches Chali’s school. Each morning, when Chali boards the school bus, he looks around for familiar faces. Many children are already seated in the front and the back, chatting softly but never Lilly.

Ever since the day they started school together, Chali had always arrived before her. Not once had he climbed onto the bus and found Lilly already there.

That morning was different. Chali could not stop wondering how she had managed to get on the bus before him. Beacuse the school bus gets to her home after it has picked Chali and almost ten other children.

“Where is my friend?” she asked.

Chali, still in shock, just stared at her, not noticing that the head of Biivuma’s son was already finding its way out of his backpack. Slowly, with its nose protruding, its head became more visible to the bearer of the question.

“I might need a name,” it said.