The bustling streets of Lagos were alive with the sounds of horns blaring, vendors shouting, and children laughing as they played in narrow alleyways. Among the chaos, a small figure moved quietly, unnoticed by most. Ten-year-old Fumi, dressed in torn and dirty rags. She walks round the street hungry and hopeless but ignored by the crowd. She tries to get food but she doesn't know where to get food from.

Her stomach made her very uncomfortable. It had been two days since she last ate—a few scraps of bread someone had tossed her way. Hunger gnawed at her insides, but it was a familiar companion by now.

"Please, just a little food," she murmured, holding out her small, grimy hands to passersby.

"Get away from me, you filthy child!" a woman shouted at her, the woman pulled her bag closer to her.

"You're cursed, aren't you?" a man muttered, glaring at her. "Bad luck follows you everywhere."

attacked them. Her father had tried to protect them, but the men were ruthless. Shots rang out, and in the blink of an eye, both her parents lay lifeless on the ground.

Fumi had been spared, but the loss left her adrift. With no relatives to turn to, she was cast onto the streets, where survival became her only focus.

The Streets Were Unforgiving

Life on the streets was harsh, especially for a child. Fumi quickly learned that trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. She kept to herself, sleeping in abandoned buildings or under market stalls, and scavenging for whatever scraps she could find.

The other street children avoided her, frightened by the rumors that she was cursed. Even the adults, who might have shown her some pity, crossed the street to avoid her.

"Stay away from her," she overheard one woman whisper. "Her parents died because of her. She's bad luck."

The words cut deep, but Fumi held her head high. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city lights began to twinkle, Fumi sat on the steps of an old church, clutching her knees to her chest. Her stomach growled again, but she ignored it, staring blankly at the ground.

"Are you hungry, child?" a soft voice asked.