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I remember it was a beautiful, sunny day. The harsh air wrapped over the table and the rays of the sun surrounded every inhabitant of Cape Town. I went to Iziko Slave lodge when I heard loud sounds. At first I didn’t draw any attention to it. “A day like every day in the heart of a big city” I thought.

However, they were becoming increasingly vibrating and my innate curiosity won. I came back to see what’s going on. It turned out that strikes that had taken place a few days before went ahead of Parliament’s building. The crowd fought for better working conditions, decent wages and non-discrimination on the basis of skin color.

The crowds were shouting and joined into one mass. There were also reporters around them who tried to fit into the strikers to get as close as possible to the government building. I tried to capture the chaos with my eyes when suddenly I saw a child. That was awesome. I had the impression that the world around me had ceased to exist. He was a boy who was watching what was happening near him in concentration. I wanted to approach and warm him because at first I felt that he was overwhelmed and I did not know what was going on. He needed care.

When the first emotion was seen, I decided to look at it. His position was ambiguous. He was standing at a safe distance  from the center of the event.  On the one hand, he was against the wall as if he was protesting himself. On the other hand, his approach suggested openness to the world, a lack of fear and hope. He did not recover, he was simply standing and looking/observing.

I will be honest: I didn’t know the exact demands of the striking people. I don’t know what the numbers are, the data. I have no idea when the strikes ended or how they finished and what was their finale. But in such moments, this is not what is important to me. The most important thing for me is the energy that floats around. For the highly sensitive person that I am, it can be overwhelming.

A few days later, I flew out of Africa and then the world was swept by a pandemic. A lot of memories began to blur, but this boy is still in my memory and it’s a very expressive picture. I don’t know if he’s alive. Prosperous, or just the opposite? I don’t know what his needs, dreams, worries are, but I hope that his future will be good and that he’ll have the opportunity to live as a fulfilled man. Because everyone has the right to do so.