That’s how I had felt because there was such a spark of life in her burning always. I was prepared for a miracle, but at the end, nothing.”Lumiti is a believer. He was studying to become a Catholic priest until he received the call to work at Nyumbani. He may yet complete his studies, his faith unshaken by the cosmic injustice to which he is a daily witness. “Of course I ask the question: Why do innocent children have to suffer, why do they go through all this? But I still believe. Somehow our spirituality, our faith in God, is strengthened in this place.

Maybe it is because we are so close to death, to the great mystery. But also because the children die in dignity.”I put it to him that he is in the hope business “Yes”, he says, with a large, easy smile “That is what we do. If you look at these children’s backgrounds here they are in heaven. We give them a vision of heaven on earth.”Before leaving Nyumbani I walk out of Lumiti’s office, past the playground where the children are playing on the swings, behind the cabbage patch, and on to the children’s cemetery under the eucalyptus tree I read the names under each little white cross. To the sound of children laughing 40 metres away in the playground, I find the two inscriptions I am looking for. They could not be simpler, more honest and unpretentious, more faithful a reflection of the spirit of Lumiti “Caroline 1987 to 1999″ and “George 1991 to 21/7/95″ Brother and sister are buried side by side.

Flowers grow over the neatly tended little mounds.I go back to say goodbye to Lumiti. A child that might have been Caroline’s age comes up to him, takes his hand.I get in a car and drive to Nairobi in a taxi with a labourer and a car mechanic who have been working at Nyumbani for several years. I say that Lumiti is a wonderful man and they nod effusively, in a very untypically African display of feeling before a stranger “An extraordinary man,” says the mechanic The labourer and the taxi driver nod again. “You know, he knows the names of each and every child,” the mechanic continues “Each and every child,” joins in the labourer. “He is just like a father to all of them.” “He is the best of men,” says the mechanic “Everybody loves him.” “Yes,” says the taxi driver “Everybody loves him.”May he live forever..