Oketch is only five years old, yet life in Gutang village has already taught him more about survival than many grown people ever learn. His tiny body bears the marks of hardship—dust on his clothes, hunger in his eyes, and a quiet maturity far beyond his years. Every morning, he woke up before the sun rose, listening to the roosters crow and the distant chatter of older children heading to fetch water. Oketch often followed them, not because he was asked, but because he wanted to help his grandmother, the only guardian he had left.
He rarely complained, even when his stomach growled or when his clothes tore from too much wear. He moves through the village with a gentle innocence, always observing, always learning. When other children played, he sometimes sat quietly, watching them with a longing smile. He wished he could play too, but hunger often robbed him of strength.
Today, the peace of Gutang village was warmed by a rare and beautiful sight—visitors carrying food, snacks, and love. Among them, bringing hope wrapped in simple blessings. Oketch’s eyes widened when a tray filled with colorful snacks and food was lowered into his small hands. For a moment, he stared, as if unsure whether the gift was real. Then he lifted the tray onto his head with a strength that surprised even the adults around him.
As he stood there, holding his blessing high, a stillness came over him. It wasn’t just the food he felt—it was the feeling of being seen, being valued, being remembered. That day, Oketch tasted the joy he had almost forgotten existed. And as he walked home with the tray balanced perfectly, his little heart whispered its own quiet prayer of gratitude, knowing that God had not forgotten Gutang village, nor had He forgotten a boy named Oketch.
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