As Christian Aid launches its Christmas Appeal, SARAH JONES reports from Kenya, where a generation of young people are growing up robbed of their childhoods by HIV. She discovers first-hand why funds are needed so desperately this year.

STRETCHING out his tiny hand to welcome us to his home, it is an unusual way to be greeted by a seven-year-old.

But all the norms of family life have been turned upside-down in this child-headed household.

And a solitary Fisher Price toy lying broken in the dirt by the doorway is one of very few admissions towards Gilchrist Ochieng’s tender age.

For, along with his three older brothers, the little boy lost the only parent he knew to HIV – and they are now trying to survive alone in a very adult world.

They are part of the estimated 2.4 million children in Kenya who have been orphaned by the epidemic that has been obliterating the country since the first case was reported in 1984.

Living in the heart of the Korogocho slum – one of the largest in Kenya’s capital, Nairobi – the stench of rotting rubbish hangs constantly in the air.

Around 150,000 people live crammed into 1.5 sq km of land, next to the city’s largest dumpsite.

In a place where criminal gangs rule the disease-ridden streets and there are no state hand-outs, these boys were forced to grow up even faster when their mother became ill.

Inside their makeshift one-room home, flies busy themselves in the dusty air of the dark and dingy shack.

Gaps in the walls are covered with sacking, and a dirty strip of sponge on the floor is bed for the boys who sleep huddled together each night.

While the oldest of the brothers is 14, he has been in hospital for over six months with a back injury, leaving his younger brothers to cope without him.

As a result 13-year-old Vincent Walong, who wears a dirty yellow jumper emblazoned with a teddy bear, has found himself promoted to head of the household.

Perched on a worn-out chair with his two younger brothers sitting next to him, the boys are encouraged to open up by a translator.

It is ten-year-old Athanas Owino who tentatively starts to reveal details of their harrowing story.

“My mother got sick, she was bedridden in the house and we were taking care of her,” he says. “One day we were at school and my mother became very ill and was taken to hospital. She never came back. We were told she had died.”

Losing their mother to an HIV-related illness last October, the children found themselves rejected by their relatives at her funeral.

Viewed as a bad omen, because they all had different fathers, the boys were now outcasts.

The only one of their fathers who had taken responsibility for them had himself died of the disease when their mother was pregnant with Gilchrist.

The only beacon of light for the children throughout their gruelling experience was KENWA, the Kenya Network of Women with Aids.

Although stretched beyond its limits, the charity – supported by Christian Aid – provided the boys with a little food while their mother was sick and took her to hospital when she became gravely ill.

And when the boys could not afford the rent their landlord was demanding after she died, it was a KENWA member (who themselves would be living on the breadline) who drummed up support among the community to start helping the children to make their monthly payments of almost £45.

But the charity’s funds are incredibly tight and the boys are now left to their own devices when it comes to finding money for food.

Living on their wits, like thousands of other people here, they spend their days picking through the streets, sewers and the huge mountain of rubbish which towers over Korogocho, for plastic bottles and containers which they can sell for recycling. For every kilo they collect, they make the equivalent of just 10p.

Day after day, they must collect two to three kilos to afford to make breakfast, before the hunt begins again for lunch and then supper.

Each of their meals consists of kale and ugali, a staple East African dish of maize flour mixed with water.

They go to school when they can – and receive lunch when they are there – but the fees (around £1.68 a month) make it impossible for the boys to attend regularly.

Their few belongings consist of a small pile of bowls and a jerry can, a worn-out table and a couple of armchairs, a dirty rag, a scrap of cardboard and a dog-eared German women’s magazine from 1978.

But their most prized possession is a dilapidated radio, which they struggle to tune into Koch FM, the slum radio station, when they can find a battery.

With their eldest brother in hospital, the younger boys say they miss him very much. Mescheck Koi used to earn money for the family by transporting stock for a neighbour who sells radios. He should be ready to come home soon but he won’t be allowed to leave until his hospital bill has been paid, which a fortnight ago stood at almost £255.

It is a staggering amount for the boys to comprehend and will continue to rise until he is discharged.

KENWA cannot afford to help, so the boys must wait and hope that the Government will waiver part of the fee. In the meantime the daily grind that these brothers call life continues. A dirty calendar fixed to the wall documents that yet another day has passed.

Sadly – unless charities like Christian Aid can raise enough money to help them – there seems little chance of an end to their nightmare.

If you would like to donate to Christian Aid’s Christmas Appeal, or find out more about its work on health and HIV, visit christianaid.org.uk/christmas or call 0845 7000 300.

The income from this appeal will go towards all areas of Christian Aid’s works including health and HIV projects in East Africa.