The little boy asked me, "What's that?". Looking up,his greasy face, bulging eyes, and almost dry lips, with an eager, sense of expectancy in him. He was barely, eight- i could tell,with his mischievous gaze and gritted teeth.A foot shorter than me-he was. I made out his ribs, black flesh,tightly wrapped around them. His arms,barely noticeable and the fingers- oh nevermind. "What the!?" I blurted out," Don't you know Pizza? The Italian delicacy prefered worldwide?" " Is it a kind of bread,made of dough? what's the shape? what's so special in it? If you are talking about flour bread, then i certainly have tasted it. it's round, and plain. Do they really like it out their? it's hard and tasteless. The brown textured one right?. Yes mother makes them, for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. We eat them with leaves.From the few trees that grow here- dried and brittle, usually.We eat them everyday- try hard swallowing, you see- we do not have much water here. HAve to save our share for the end. Father's strict with the water. Not a drop more, but always a drop less" he grinned. i gulped, heart twisted in a knot. My mind swivelling as utter realization crashed on me. My head bent down in shame.In mere rebuke. In a jitter of emotions. "How have they been left out?" i asked, myself. I shook my head in utter disbeleif.How had i been so stupid, so so obtuse? After all this is Africa. They have never been among the world- never considered. The little boy gazed at me,waiting for an answer. Not realizing, my agony, my speechlessness in dim reality. Not realizing, how ignorant, how selfish, i had been.

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