I am 11 years old, I have never met my mother; she left me with my father shortly after I was born, and my father took me to my grandmother’s place. Grandmother did not have a job so there was no money for food; sometimes we stayed hungry; I was not going to school and on top of that my grandmother always beat me up for slight mistakes. I lived on the streets of a Kampala suburb for two months; on the streets we slept on card-boards and covered with polyethylene sheets, it was always too cold at night. It was always a struggle to find something to eat, the security personnel mistreated us, and we were enemies to the public.
I was just taking a walk down-town when I met friends who had been on the streets but were now staying at the Youth Corps home, they told me about it and thought it was a better place than the streets; they brought me to the Youth Corps home where I have been staying for two years now. I enjoy staying in the Youth Corps home; now I have a bed, eat good food I am going to school. I like getting gifts and watching movies.