As he approached me by walking bare-footed on a dusty road in one of the poorest villages of West Africa (not mentioned), his eyes wept tears of hopelessness, discouragement, and agony. Without any second thought, my eyes soon became filled with tears of sympathy as I slowly held my hands on his shoulders to ease his pain.
I said, "What's the matter?"
He said, "School fees," as the tears run on his cheeks onto his brown-dirty-shirt.
I then managed to calm him down and continued: "What else?"
He slowly but painfully said, "FOOD....."
I thought so, for he was not only feeling the pain of his teacher's cane, but also hungry.
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