As streets get busy with human movements and most offices become empty, the sounds of honking by vehicles grow in decibels. And for a Nairobi City dweller, these are signs that home is calling as dusk approaches. But not for everyone.
In the blur of headlights and honking matatus, tiny voices rise: those of children, some barely five years old, selling candies, biscuits and waffles to strangers. Their world was reduced to worn out boxes, small enough to carry, yet heavy with responsibility in the unforgiving streets of Nairobi in a bid to eke out a living.