Chapter one: Around my house in Manica live many kids that have been growing up in front of my eyes over the past five years. The great majority of them lives in absolute poverty and come from broken and harmful homes. Naturally then that as an informal part of our program we care and guide many of these kids.

Like Zambito: both his parents are alcoholics and pretty violent. Zambito found some refuge and pride by completing our computer course. His fees were paid by a Johannesburg teenager that saw ‘Zambo's' potential when visiting Manica. Today Zambito (13) teaches other kids. One day I met Zambito and his dad on the street, the father being totally drunk said: "If you want to buy him you can take him, no problem." I am still stunned by that sentence, one of the cruelest scenes I have witnessed in my life.

Then, recently I was away from Manica for more than a month and upon my return I heard that Zambito was kicked out of school because he didn't attend classes. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to leave his home, because his parents gave him house tasks or duties to perform. To my great surprise, two days after my return to Manica Zambito's mother shows up and blames me for causing Zambito to be kicked out of school because he is always playing with me instead of going to school. Poining out to her that I wasn't even on the continent during the events leading up to and during the kick out, didn't seem to ease her temper. Helping a kid and getting blamed by the parents isn't really what I'll call a positive or motivational incentive to keep it up! For those who saw the soccer World Cup finals- It's kind of like a Zinedene Zidane head-butt on the chest, stopping you dead in your tracks...

Chapter two: Across the street from me live two brothers: Paizinho (13) and Alilo (10). Their mom died a long time ago and two years ago their dad simply disappeared. I saw and confirmed that they live alone in a large house with no water, electricity or windows. They were both kicked out of school, for not having money to pay. They survived by eating green mango's of other peoples trees. Orphans. We started helping them: getting them back into school, buying them uniforms and shoes, giving them food to eat every day, checking homework, teaching them good manners and discipline. The result was amazing, a turnaround in personality and character that everyone could observe. Previously parents prohibited their kids from playing with these two, now they encourage them! Yet, there are still plenty of hardships and tears. They recently started asking me for my flashlight on a regular basis, always having a new excuse for what they have to look for or what they want to check. Then I realized that after they had been robbed they were simply scared to go into the dark house by themselves... now a friend of mine bought them each a little headlamp.

Chapter three: Last week, out of the blue Paizinho and Alilo's father returned. Zambito told me they were crying, fearing that all the help and love will cease. I anticipated another Zidane world-cup final head-butt, perhaps accusing me of stealing his children or undermining his parental authority. So, when I got on my bike to leave my house at 7pm and I saw the tall strong figure of the dad approaching me I felt tired and dejected even before a word was said. He came up to me, stood before me and with an intense and serious face said he wants to speak to me- now. I felt the chest pain in anticipation of the blow... and then he started: First, he explained why he was away for two years. Then, he said that for the first time in his life, upon his return, the kids greeted him with respect. He said for the first time he didn't have to nag them to help with tasks around the house. He said that for the first time they are at school, doing homework and being home on time. He said that his kids have changed and became decent young men. I waited for the but, that normally follows such positive sentences. You tried well, but... But, there were no ‘buts'. The father then started to thank me out of his heart, begging me not to stop the help. He was going to stay for two weeks then go again. So, he kept on thanking me and asking me that we should continue doing what we're doing. I told him that I'm just a kid myself and that I know I'm not their dad, but that I will do the little things I can. He then said that if you give someone a little thing like 10 Meticais (50 US cents) with love it is received as if it is a million Meticais. The big man, a non-church going war veteran, then with uncharacteristic emotion said: "You showed, no you became God for my children, you brought God into their lives."

Five years is 1825 days, which is a long time. After five years of living in Mozambique this was the first thank you I ever received from a Mozambican...