For 8 weeks we have been living in a shithole.
Not like Yemen. We have sausages. Toilet paper.
I take the dog out for a pee. That's freedom isn't it. I'm not shot at. I can go home and make toast. Kiss my son.
Kiss him again.
The babies with their heaving bones. Old man faces. Struggling to breathe. Huge frightened eyes.
I can't think about it.
So: to local problems. There is damp everywhere. Nothing dries. The morning skies take your breath away but by 4pm it's dark. So dark. I won't buy a lamp as I have a load of lamps in storage. It's costing a thousand pounds a month to rent here, and cover storage.
I earn 742 pounds a month. That's working full time. That's what most TAs earn. I don't know why we earn so little. We're not worth it. I have to accept that.
An army of women are educating your children. An incredible band of foot soldiers who go into school early, giving children words...words! WORDS. Reading. Phonics. Number beads. Denes. More words. A wonderful waterfall of words. Written on whiteboards....buying our own pens. Time and again. Scribbling, laughing, running clubs, doing disclosure forms for all the crap many of them suffer. Words. Giving them a vocabulary. A way out.
The end
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