Stephen Mwiti holds up a blue check shirt and dark shorts that Samuel, his eldest son, wore to school. They and a few old photographs are all he has left of the children and wife he lived with in Malindi, a tourist town on the Kenyan coast.
It is early morning. Outside, through the door of Mwiti’s one-room home, I can see other children in the same check shirt making their way through the slum along a path of red earth to school.
Bizarre doesn’t begin to describe this.
