MONROVIA — On a hot Wednesday afternoon in Monrovia, while most children were tucked away in classrooms, 10-year-old Kebbeh Johnson and 12-year-old Telema Zayzay sat on a cracked sidewalk in Buzzy Quarter, one of the capital’s sprawling slum communities.
By Augustus D.R. Bortue
Spread before them were small plastic bags filled with roasted peanuts, their hands dusty from hours of walking, selling, and surviving.
They are not playing or daydreaming like children their age often do. Instead, Kebbeh and Telema are working — not by choice, but by necessity.
“We are selling peanuts to survive,” said Kebbeh, her voice soft but determined. “We sell every day except Sunday. After selling, we go home to do work and then study. Whatever we make from the selling is what our parents use to feed us, send us to school, and pay our rent.”
The two children, like many others in similar circumstances across Monrovia, have become symbols of youthful resilience in the face of urban poverty. Their story is not just one of hardship, but also of a quiet strength shaped by struggle.
Kebbeh lives with her aunt, Kebbeh Mulbah, and is a second grader. Telema, in third grade, also lives with his aunt, Loupu Koulubah. Their relatives, unable to make ends meet alone, rely on the children’s daily earnings from peanut sales to supplement household income.
“Just imagine, Mr. Journalist,” Telema chimed in, “we are small children, but we have to help take care of ourselves. It’s not easy. We want to go to school and stop selling, but there’s no other way.”
Both children expressed hope that kind-hearted individuals or organizations might come to their aid — not just for them, but for other children in similar predicaments.
Street children are a growing concern in Liberia’s capital. Every day, children can be seen selling water, plantain chips, chewing gum, and other small goods, weaving through chaotic traffic or standing under the blazing sun for hours on end.
These children, like Kebbeh and Telema, face more than just hunger or lost educational time. They are exposed to dangers that range from traffic accidents to physical abuse, exploitation, and exposure to diseases due to inadequate healthcare and sanitation.
Some of them, according to child protection groups, never make it back home. Others are slowly pushed further into the margins — school becomes a dream, not a priority.
Recognizing the urgency of the issue, the Government of Liberia, through the Ministry of Gender, Children and Social Protection, launched the National Street Children Project.
This five-year initiative, in collaboration with international partners, aims to remove children from the streets permanently and reintegrate them into homes and schools.
The project offers shelter, education, counseling, and healthcare. Officials say it’s part of a long-term plan to break the cycle of poverty and protect the rights of Liberia’s most vulnerable children.
But for many like Kebbeh and Telema, help is still far away. They have yet to see the impact of this initiative in their lives. Their daily reality is dictated by the number of peanut bags they sell — and whether they can sell enough to cover the next meal or the next day’s school fare.
Despite the odds, both children remain hopeful. “We just want to go to school and stop selling,” Kebbeh said, looking down at her small tray. “We want to be somebody tomorrow.”
It’s a simple plea, echoed by hundreds of Liberian children trapped between childhood and survival. For now, they will continue selling peanuts along the dusty streets of Monrovia — carrying not just their goods, but the weight of dreams too big to be ignored.
